My stomach coiled into a tight knot as I watched the sea of reporters surge forward, microphones thrust like weapons toward the podium. The air in the Halgate Group conference room felt electric, charged with anticipation and the acrid smell of fresh coffee and designer perfumes.
I smoothed down my navy silk blouse, grateful Tina had insisted on the power suit this morning. "For the cameras," she'd said, as if she'd somehow known what today would bring.
Michael stepped up to the podium, his shoulders squared beneath his tailored charcoal suit. His jaw tightened—that familiar tell when he was steeling himself. Eight years apart, and I could still read him like a well-worn novel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice."
His voice—deeper than I remembered from o
