ALLEGIANCE

Chapter 22 — Long Nights

Monday morning arrived beneath a sky polished silver, low clouds drifting lazily across downtown Los Angeles before surrendering to the California sun.

Inside the Cross Foundation, the executive floor hummed with its usual rhythm. Telephones rang in distant offices. Printers whirred steadily. Coffee drifted through the corridors, mingling with the scent of polished walnut and fresh paper.

Deborah stepped off the elevator balancing two folders against her hip. Before she reached her desk, Sandra Collins appeared from the conference room.

"There you are."

Sandra's smile carried an unusual warmth. "The board would like a word with you."

Deborah slowed. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing bad."

Sandra motioned toward the boardroom.

"They're waiting."

The long walnut table was already occupied. Michael Harris sat near the far end, flipping through a folder.

Several department directors looked up as Deborah entered. Julian remained at the head of the table, reviewing a document.

Only when Sandra closed the door did he lift his eyes.

"Good morning, Miss Carter."

"Good morning."

Sandra gestured toward an empty chair. "Please."

Deborah sat carefully, resting both hands in her lap. Julian closed the folder before him.

"We have an announcement to make."

He looked toward Sandra.

"It's a matter that concerns continuity."

He glanced briefly toward Deborah.

"Claire's transfer will take several weeks to complete." Sandra continued.

"Rather than appoint someone permanently before the restructuring is complete..."

"...the board recommends maintaining the current arrangement."

Michael looked toward Deborah. "You've adapted exceptionally well."

Sandra nodded. "The executive office has remained ahead of schedule since you began assisting."

Another director smiled.

"We'd like you to continue." Deborah blinked.

"For... another week?"

Sandra exchanged a glance with Julian. "Longer."

"Only until the restructuring is complete," Michael added quickly.

"We'll review everything afterward."

Deborah blinked again, certain she had misunderstood, she looked from one face to another. Everyone seemed perfectly comfortable. No one appeared to think the request unusual.

Chairs scraped softly across the polished floor as conversation broke into smaller groups. Deborah remained seated for another moment, still trying to understand how another week had quietly become several.

The weeks that followed settled into an unfamiliar rhythm. Meetings stretched longer, projects multiplied. Departments competed for Julian's attention.

By six o'clock each evening, most of the building emptied. The executive floor rarely did. One Tuesday evening Deborah glanced toward the clock "7:18."

She leaned back, rubbing tired eyes before returning to another budget summary. A soft knock sounded against her open door. Julian stood there holding two paper bags.

"I thought you'd forgotten dinner."

She let out a heavy breath. "I forgot lunch too."

"I noticed."

He placed one bag beside her keyboard. "The Italian place downstairs."

She unfolded the paper bag. Warm steam escaped the container. Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and the lemon tea she ordered almost every Thursday. She looked up.

"You remembered."

"I pay attention." He said it so simply that it almost sounded accidental.

"Thank you."

He nodded once before returning to his office.

The following Thursday another meeting ended after eight. Rain tapped softly against the windows, blurring the lights of downtown into streaks of gold.

Deborah gathered scattered reports into neat piles. A yawn escaped before she could hide it. Julian looked up from across the table.

"How long have you been awake?"

She thought for a moment. "Five."

"This morning?"

She smiled sheepishly. "A.M."

He closed his notebook. "You should go home."

"I still have tomorrow's briefing."

"It can wait?"

She looked at the stack. "It'll only take another thirty minutes."

Julian studied her for several seconds, then reached for his phone.

"My driver will take you."

"You don't have to do that."

"It's raining."

"I drove."

"I know."

He looked out toward the parking garage.

"So will my driver."

She laughed softly. She had planned to argue. Instead, she found herself nodding. Somewhere along the way, his concern had begun carrying more weight than her own exhaustion.

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

Ten minutes later she stood beneath the building's covered entrance while a black sedan pulled around. The driver stepped out immediately.

"Miss Carter."

"You really didn't have to come."

"I was instructed not to leave without you."

She sighed with amused resignation.

"That sounds like him."

The driver smiled politely and opened the rear door as the car pulled away, Deborah glanced back through the rain-speckled window.

High above, the lights in Julian's office still burned. His silhouette crossed slowly behind the glass. She watched until the building disappeared behind another block. She wondered, briefly, whether he had gone back to work or simply waited until he knew she had left safely.

Without realizing it, she smiled.

"He works harder than anyone I know."

Later that night Margaret stood in the kitchen wrapping Deborah's untouched dinner before placing it inside the refrigerator. The clock read 9:42.

She smiled to herself. "Our little girl's becoming important and she's working herself far too hard"

She switched off the kitchen light. Upstairs, Deborah slipped quietly into the house, believing everyone was already asleep.

She never noticed the handwritten note waiting beside the covered plate.

Heat this before bed.

I'm proud of you.

Love, Mom