Martin sat at the head of the long conference table on the 45th floor, sleeves rolled up, staring at the projected slides without really seeing them.
The marketing team was presenting updated crisis-response strategies for the inclusivity event. Numbers, timelines, revised influencer outreach all the things that should have demanded his full attention. Instead, his mind kept drifting back to the same image: Fiona's front door closing in his face while Caleb Reed stood there like he owned the ground beneath his feet.
"Mr. Mole?" one of the directors asked cautiously. "Should we move forward with the emergency teaser drop this week?"
Martin blinked, forcing his focus back to the room.
"Yes," he said curtly. "Push it. We can't let Moonshine own the narrative."
The meeting continued, but he was only half-present. Every few minutes his hand twitched toward his phone. He had already called Fiona countless of times that morning,and all the times it had gone straight to voicemail.
