Chapter 17 #2
“Patterns,” he repeated with a faint smile, as though she’d said something adorably ambitious. He tapped one finger against his clasped hands, a soft, rhythmic motion with an edge to it. “You always see the patterns. It’s one of the reasons I value you.”
Value. Usually the word felt like praise. Today it nudged at something uncertain—but she forced herself to remember the years he’d invested in her career.
“I’m not imagining this,” she said. “The data’s been scrubbed. Someone removed outliers, smoothed variance that shouldn’t have smoothed.”
His smile didn’t fade, but the warmth behind it cooled a degree. Less frost, more fatigue. “You have to be careful not to overinterpret. You’re brilliant, but brilliance can run away with itself if you let it.”
Hale stood then, coming around the desk. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, paternal. It only made her pulse jump. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder—light, but impossible to shrug off without escalating the moment.
“I’m telling you there is nothing to worry about the NorthBridge account. You found something initially. That’s excellent work. But when a second look shows no smoke? There’s no fire.”
Her jaw tightened in frustration at not being able to bridge the gap between her instincts and his confidence. She forced her voice to stay level. “I’m not overinterpreting, Richard. I ran the data three different ways. The anomalies weren’t noise—someone intentionally removed them.”
He lifted one shoulder in a mild, almost indulgent shrug, the kind he used in staff meetings when someone brought him a problem he’d already decided didn’t matter. “Or it was simply cleaned up by the vendor. These things happen all the time. NorthBridge has always been . . . thorough.”
He wasn’t hearing her—not because he didn’t care, but because he’d already decided the political momentum mattered more. She kept her hands clasped to hide how they wanted to curl. “Not this thorough. And not all at once, overnight, with no version logs showing the changes.”
Hale’s expression didn’t shift, but the pause that followed was just a hair too long. A recalibration. Like he was mildly annoyed to be pulled sideways from the narrative he believed in.
“At some point,” he said smoothly, “you have to trust the system. Not everything is a conspiracy.”
“I didn’t say it was a conspiracy,” she replied, more sharply than intended. “There’s a lot she’s not sharing, even with us.”
“Every candidate keeps a few cards in the inner pocket, Norah,” he said lightly. “It’s politics, not treason.”
“I don’t want Summit tied to something unstable.” She inhaled through her nose, steadying herself. “If NorthBridge data is being manipulated while Morris is positioning herself for a presidential run, that should matter to us.”
“You sound nervous.” His tone remained warm, but the air shifted a degree colder. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Her breath caught and she hoped he didn’t hear it. She thought of her apartment. The overturned drawers. The missing notebook.
The sudden certainty that someone at Summit had been looking over her shoulder all along.
“If you are as ambitious and intelligent as I have believed for the last ten years? As I have advocated to the partners? Then you’ll recognize that in the end what matters,” he said, “is that Summit is aligned with the winning coalition. Senator Morris has vision, momentum, and influence. Being close to her helps the firm. It helps all of us. Including you. You’ve worked hard to be where you are. ”
Her pulse thudded harder. Had she never noticed the pressure under the praise?
“And the gala is part of that alignment,” he went on. “A show of support. A signal that we’re in the room, not watching from the hallway. The NorthBridge account is fine.”
He softened his tone again—coaxing, persuasive, the voice of the man who had built her career with encouragement and open doors. “Enjoy yourself at the gala. Make connections. Stand beside me when Morris speaks. After this week blows over, you’ll see everything much more clearly.”
“I’m being cautious,” she said. “We both know public alliances can turn quickly if the foundation isn’t solid.”
Hale’s smile didn’t falter, but something calculating moved behind his eyes. “Which is exactly why I need my best strategist there. You have a way of grounding people, Norah. You make them feel safe and certain. Even Morris trusts your analysis. You should be proud.
“I can see you’re tired,” he said gently. “Did you have a good time at the wedding? Did this boyfriend of yours attend?” He waggled his eyebrows as though he were her father, teasing her about a new love interest.
She flushed. “Oh, well, I—”
“That’s lovely, Norah. I’m very happy for you. It’s about time you realized there is a whole world outside these doors. Summit is just a small part of a bigger picture.”
She couldn’t help but wonder if he was still talking about her social life.
“Actually, I didn’t—” she began.
He lifted a hand, gentle, dismissive. “Norah. You don’t owe me an explanation. You’ll bring him to the gala. These events can be dreary without someone to keep you company.” His smile widened. “And it never hurts to demonstrate stability.”
Stability. Bring him.
Her pulse thudded once, hard.
He didn’t care who the boyfriend was, whether he existed, whether the relationship was real. He just cared about the photo. The narrative. The alignment. He’d already slotted her into the evening like a prop on a stage he believed he owned.
“I don’t know if he’s available,” she said carefully, even though she already knew Marshall had no intention of letting her go alone.
“Well, make him available.” Hale rounded the desk again, reclaiming his spot with the ease of a man returning to his throne. “A brilliant woman with a promising future . . . What man wouldn’t want to stand beside that?”
She managed a smile she didn’t feel. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Excellent.” Hale reached for his mouse, already shifting back to his emails, dismissing her without fully saying so. “And Norah?”
She paused at the door, hand on the handle.
His voice softened—too soft, too measured. “Let the noise around NorthBridge go. We’re on the cusp of something extraordinary. Truly. Focus on what’s ahead of you, not shadows on the wall.”
Her breath stuck.
Shadows on the wall. The word tugged at too many things — the break-in, the missing notebook, the unease she couldn’t name. But she reminded herself that Hale didn’t know about any of that. He couldn’t. She was drowning in shadows, and he was telling her to ignore them.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll keep my attention where it needs to be.”
“Good girl.”
The words stung. They weren’t sinister but condescending in a way that surprised her coming from him.
She kept her face still and stepped into the hall before anything showed.
Only when the door clicked shut behind her did she let her lungs expand. The hallway felt too bright. She was rattled—not by Richard’s intentions, she told herself, but by how quickly he’d waved off her concerns.
She started walking.
She didn’t know where she was headed yet. Perhaps her office, the restroom, or even a stairwell where she could breathe for thirty seconds.
Hale wasn’t listening. Hale wasn’t seeing what she was seeing.
He wasn’t listening because he didn’t believe there was anything to hear.
Norah retreated to her desk, heart still racing. She opened the folder and pretended to read, but her eyes kept drifting to the reflection in the glass. The office stretched behind her, full of people who might be watching.
She told herself she was being paranoid. Logic told her she was spiraling. Richard was her mentor. Her supporter. A man who’d built his career on caution and ethics. Everything he’d ever taught her pointed away from corruption. She told herself Richard had reasons for what he’d said.
He couldn’t be part of the ruthless Syndicate that Marshall had told her about.
He just couldn’t.
But her instincts—those same instincts he’d once praised—were ringing like alarms now.
And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t silence the slim possibility that the man who’d shaped her professional life might be standing in the shadows she’d been warned about.