Chapter 4 A Day in the Field
A month into my new job at Sinclair, I already understood the rhythms. The shortcuts. The unspoken hierarchies. Which elevators stalled. Which coffee kept you alive. I knew who wanted honesty and who only pretended to.
I was buried in a risk model when footsteps stopped near my desk.
“Hey there,” a male voice said. “You’re the new development analyst, right?”
I looked up.
He was tall, clean-cut, early thirties maybe. Expensive haircut. Confident smile.
“I’m Tim Jones,” he said, flashing teeth so white I briefly wondered if our dental plan covered that level of whitening.
“Ashley Richards,” I replied. “Nice to meet you.”
He popped one hip and leaned it against the edge of my desk like he was settling in for a long conversation.
Which was inconvenient. I had three spreadsheets open and zero patience.
“So,” he went on when I didn’t fill the silence, “on Friday night, some of us are heading to The Ember Lounge after work. Drinks. Music. Unwinding. Are you up for some fun?”
“Actually,” I said lightly, eyes drifting back to my screen, “I already promised myself an early night. Another time, maybe.”
“Oh, come on, Ashley.” He straightened, giving me his best wounded puppy expression. “You’ve got to meet people. I bet you haven’t even been off this floor yet. Come with us. I’ll introduce you to my department.”
I was opening my mouth to decline again when a voice cut in behind him.
“Excuse me.”
Tim froze.
“Don’t you both have work you should be doing?”
We turned at the same time.
Knox Sinclair stood directly behind Tim, arms crossed over his chest.
He wasn’t in a jacket. Just tailored trousers and a crisp white shirt, open at the collar. No tie. The fabric contrasted sharply against his tanned skin, the lines of his body impossible to ignore even when he was still.
His gaze was cold. Assessing.
Tim straightened immediately. “Sir. I was just—”
Knox didn’t look at him.
His eyes were already on me.
“Miss Richards,” he said calmly, “I’m going to need you to accompany me to the field today.”
I blinked.
That was new. Usually I was sent the data after meetings. Not summoned into them.
“Yes, of course,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “Let’s get moving. It’s going to be a long day.”
Tim looked between us, clearly unsure how he’d just been dismissed without being dismissed.
Knox finally glanced at him.
“Mr. Jones,” he added coolly, “I believe your documents were meant for Julian.”
Tim flushed. “Yes, sir.”
He left. Quickly.
I watched him retreat with minimal sympathy, then gathered my tablet and stood.
Only then did I glance down at myself. A fitted charcoal-gray office dress that hugged my waist and fell just above my knees.
Paired with expensive black heels that suddenly felt like a terrible life choice.
The kind of outfit meant for climate-controlled boardrooms, not…
whatever Knox Sinclair was about to drag me into.
I couldn’t change. I couldn’t even complain. This wasn’t a meeting I’d been warned about, and I doubted he cared whether I was dressed for a runway or a construction site.
I followed him toward the elevator, already regretting every inch of heel.
The elevator arrived almost immediately. Knox stepped inside without slowing and I slipped in after him. The doors closed with a soft chime.
I glanced at his reflection in the polished steel wall. He didn’t look at me, but I knew he was aware of me.
The ride down was quiet.
When the doors opened into the lobby, the shift was immediate. Conversations softened. Heads turned. People tried not to stare and failed anyway. Knox didn’t acknowledge any of it. He walked straight through the space like the room had arranged itself around him.
I followed half a step behind.
Outside, a black SUV waited at the curb.
Nathan stepped ahead of us and opened the rear door.
“Miss Richards,” he said politely.
Knox waited until I was seated before sliding in beside me.
“This is Nathan Reed,” Knox said as the door closed. “My driver and head of security.”
Nathan met my eyes in the mirror and gave a brief nod. “Nice to meet you, Miss Richards.”
“Likewise,” I replied.
Titan was already waiting in the back of the SUV.
When I turned, I could see him clearly through the open cargo area, stretched across his bed behind the headrests. He lifted his massive head, studied me once, then rested his chin back on his paws. Eyes half closed. Still alert.
Nathan had taken him out for his daily walk during lunch.
During the ride, Knox reviewed documents on his tablet. I watched Chicago slide past the windows, glass towers slowly giving way to warehouses and empty stretches of land.
When we arrived, the location was exactly what I had suspected. A wide stretch of dirt and dry grass. Broken concrete edges where something had once stood. No buildings. Just open, waiting space.
Three men were already there.
They straightened the moment Knox stepped out of the car.
I slid out after him.
Nathan opened the rear hatch and let Titan down. The dog moved quietly beside him, though his attention never strayed far from Knox.
“Mr. Sinclair, what an honor.”
“Thank you for coming out personally.”
“We truly believe this project will redefine the area.”
Metaphorical ass-kissing in synchronized formation.
Knox barely acknowledged it and he gestured toward me instead.
“This is my analyst, Miss Richards.”
“A pleasure,” one of them said quickly.
I nodded politely and stayed silent.
They began their pitch immediately.
Prime location. Perfect access. Casino complex. Hotels. Entertainment district. A future worth millions.
I didn’t interrupt. I observed. Took notes. Studied the surroundings. The air. The slope of the land.
Something about it felt wrong. Familiar. I tried to pull the memory forward.
And then one of the men said it.
“…and once excavation starts, the underground water flow can finally be redirected properly.”
That was enough. A memory snapped into place.
In my past life, during one of my forced detox periods, my captors had locked me in a room with the other girls and cut me off from everything. The television had been left on.
I had been clear-minded enough to watch a news report about this exact land.
They talked about underground water routes shifting during early excavation. About old tunnels collapsing beneath the surface. Sinkholes forming without warning. A forgotten network of mining shafts discovered beneath the soil.
A project had been shut down.
Declared dangerous. Too risky. Too unpredictable
I stared down at the ground. My two-thousand-dollar heels were slowly sinking into the soft mud. I shifted my weight, painfully aware of dirt clinging to my precious babies.
Beneath the surface, this land was already collapsing.
The hours dragged on.
Eventually, Knox turned toward me.
“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?”
Three pairs of eyes turned toward me.
I pressed my lips together, scanning the land once more. I couldn’t say what I truly knew. I couldn’t say I know the future. And I knew other firms had already approved this site.
So I did what I always did. I built the truth out of data.
“I think it’s a risk,” I said.
Knox’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What is the problem?”
I was already pulling information on my tablet. Geological surveys. Archived environmental studies. Old municipal reports buried deep in databases no one bothered to cross-reference anymore.
“There are inconsistencies in the underground stability reports,” I said, turning the screen toward him. “Water tables here don’t behave normally. There are gaps in historical mining documentation. Which means there are likely unmapped tunnels.”
The men exchanged quick glances.
“This land has been cleared by multiple parties,” one said quickly.
“There’s no record of..”
“This land sits over an abandoned mining network,” I said calmly. “The tunnels are unstable. Excavation will disrupt underground water paths. Sinkholes will follow.”
Knox took my tablet from my hands and scrolled himself. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. When he finally looked up, his decision was already made.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” he said smoothly. “But Sinclair Enterprises won’t be moving forward with this acquisition.”
Their disappointment was immediate.
Then suddenly, Titan shifted behind me. I hadn’t even realized he was there.
He rolled lazily onto his side with a heavy thump, directly against my legs.
I lost my balance and pitched forward.
A strong arm caught me instantly around my waist, steadying me before I could fall.
Knox.
He held me just long enough to ensure I was stable, then released me without a word.
I looked back.
Titan lay there panting, tongue out, perfectly relaxed, as if he hadn’t just tried to take me down.
When I turned back, Knox was watching me. His gaze was impossible to read.
Then he turned away.
“Titan. Heel.”
The dog rose instantly and followed him toward the car.
The SUV waited where we had left it. Titan jumped into the back compartment easily, settling behind the rear seats with a low huff.
Nathan opened the rear door for me.
I slid into the seat, brushing dirt from my skirt and wincing at the state of my shoes.
Knox took the seat beside me without comment.
Nathan pushed the door closed and moved around to the driver’s seat. The engine started, smooth and low, and we pulled away from the site.
For a few moments, no one spoke. The land disappeared behind us. Chicago slowly returned.
Then Knox broke the silence. “Good job.”
I turned my head toward him.
“You found those reports faster than most analysts would in a controlled office, let alone standing in a field under pressure.”
“It felt like a test,” I said.
His eyes flicked to mine.
“It was.”
“And?” I asked.
“You passed.”
I couldn’t stop the small smile that touched my lips.