He looked like he'd slept maybe four hours, with dark circles under his eyes and hair even more disheveled than usual. But somehow he still looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. Life wasn't fair that way.
He nodded at me as he passed. "Kim. What's on the schedule?"
"You have a video call at 10:30 with the investors from Titan Ventures. The conference room is booked. I've prepared the files you might need and sent the agenda to your email."
He nodded. "Right. Thanks." He disappeared into his office.
I let out a deep breath. Everything was fine. At 10:15, I reminded him about the call. He emerged from his office with his jacket on, tie straightened—for once—and followed me to the conference room.
I'd prepared everything. Checked the video system twice, made sure the connection was stable, and arranged the files in order of likely relevance. Water pitcher, glass, pen, notepad. Everything was perfect. Everything was under control.
Xavier settled into his chair at the head of the table. I went back to my desk and tried to breathe. I twisted my hands together. Someone must have seen Zoe at this point. Since no one had stopped at my desk to ask what was going on, she probably remembered my instructions and the ‘game’ we were playing.
Fifteen minutes in, like a horror movie playing out in front of me, I saw movement in my peripheral vision. Small movement. Low to the ground. Coming down the hallway from the direction of the break room.
My blood turned to ice.
Zoe was walking toward me, her stuffed elephant clutched under one arm.No… Zoe, please, go back.
But she just kept moving with fierce determination in her eyes. She must have gotten bored. Must have forgotten the rules. Must have decided that whatever she needed was more important than staying hidden.
I rose from my desk, keeping my movements slow, trying not to attract attention. If I could just intercept her, redirect her back to the break room before anyone noticed…
"Zoe," I whispered urgently, bending down, trying to catch her eye. "Zoe, baby, come here. Come to Mommy."
She saw me and smiled. But at the last second, she changed direction. I watched, horrified, as she walked toward the conference room.
"Zoe." My whisper was desperate now. I glanced around. No one was watching yet. I speed-walked down the hall, grateful for my shoes that didn’t draw attention. I tried to close the distance without running, without causing a scene that would be worse than what was about to happen. "Zoe, stop. Come here, baby. Please."
She reached the conference room door. She pushed it open.
I froze in the hallway, three feet too late, and watched through the glass as my daughter walked right up to Xavier Dubois in the middle of his meeting, tugged on the sleeve of his expensive jacket, and reached up with both arms.
The universal gesture. Pick me up.
Xavier stopped mid-sentence. His mouth hung open for a fraction of a second, words dissolving into silence. On the screen, four executives stared. One of them frowned, deep lines carving into his forehead. Another looked confused, glancing off-screen like he was checking if someone else was seeing this.
My career flashed before my eyes. I saw the termination meeting, saw Jennifer Holloway give me that awkward handshake. I saw myself carry my box of personal items to the elevator while everyone pretended not to watch.
Zoe tugged on Xavier's sleeve again. "Up, please."
And Xavier picked her up.
He settled her on his hip like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he turned back to the meeting.
"Sorry about that, gentlemen. My lucky charm decided to join us."
I remained frozen in the hallway, terrified of what awaited me if I walked into the conference room. Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt him more than Zoe already had.
He kept talking. Didn't miss a beat. His hand rested casually on Zoe's back, steadying her against his hip.
Zoe, comfortable in his arms, looked at the screen. At the serious men in suits staring at her. She tilted her head, considering them with the frank assessment only children were capable of.
Then she scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue.
One of the executives laughed. He made a face back at her—crossed his eyes, puffed out his cheeks.
Zoe giggled. Another executive, an older man with silver hair and a skeptical expression, smiled despite himself. The tension in the room—tension I hadn't even noticed building—dissolved like sugar in hot water.
