Page 61 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

Jeffrey studies me across the table, his expression shifting slightly. He knows where my attention has gone. “We can keep your after-speech obligations tighter this year.”

Sara glances at him, then at me. “I can cut half the social introductions if needed.”

“No,” I say. “If I’m there, I’m there. We do it properly.”

Neither of them argues.

Sara moves to the layout plans, and the meeting returns to structure.

We work through the entry sequence, stage positions, lighting cues, investor flow, security, then the technical redundancies built into the demo. I make it clear that the backups aren't there to hide failure. They're there to preserve continuity while we identify exactly what went wrong.

By the time we’ve finished, almost an hour has passed.

Sara gathers her notes first. “I’ll revise the event sequence and have the communications deck updated by tomorrow.”

“Cut anything that sounds rehearsed,” I say.

“It’s a gala,” Jeffrey says. “Rehearsed is the point.”

“Not for me.”

Jeffrey smirks. “Yes, we’re all painfully aware of your personality.”

Sara ignores him. “You’re still doing the investor dinner next week?”

“Yes.”

“And the magazine interview?”

“No.”

She looks up from her tablet. “You already postponed it once.”

“Then they can wait again.”

“They won’t like that.”

“They rarely do.”

Jeffrey stands, gathering his folder. “You know, one day you could simply lean into being the mysterious billionaire CEO and let everyone project competence onto you without effort.”

“I already have competence,” I say. “Projection would be redundant.”

“That’s almost charming.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

He grins. “That’s usually when it happens.”

I let them leave before I return to the windows.

The city looks colder today.

Not in weather, exactly. In tone. The light over the river is pale and clean, flattening the movement below into something almost abstract.

Three months.

Enough time to perfect the demo. Enough time for the board to continue pretending the gala is as much about optics as substance. Enough time for me to tolerate hearing Megan’s name in my own head every time someone at the event asks whether I’m bringing anyone.