The parking lot at Ashford Technologies was half-full at this hour—the particular occupancy of a building mid-morning, the early arrivals already inside, the late ones still somewhere in the city's traffic. Aurora pulled into a space and cut the engine.
She sat for a moment.
They had a joint session today. Items to finalize—the compliance response to Sterling's office, two contractor decisions that had been waiting on both their signatures, a timeline adjustment that couldn't go through assistants because it required judgment calls that assistants weren't paid to make. Liam hadn't reached out. He hadn't confirmed. He had simply said nothing, which was his preferred method of communicating that he was still angry, which was fine, because she was not going to be the one to perform contrition for a fight in which she had been correct.
But the work needed to happen.
