Chapter 15 #2
“I sent an addendum,” Sadie said as she returned to the hallway. “The original list failed to account for Abby refusing lunch.”
Evan glanced toward Abby but did not join the reprimand. “Do you want me to start with the desk or the cabinet?”
“The desk, please.” Abby took a long drink of water. “The cabinet is annoying, but I need somewhere to work on Monday.”
“All right.” Evan set the tool bag beside the flat boxes in the study. “Show me where you want it before I assemble anything.”
Abby followed him to the doorway and pointed to the wall opposite the window. The room was small enough that the desk had only two possible locations, but Evan listened while she explained that she wanted the daylight behind the monitor instead of across it.
“Against that wall, then,” he said as he opened the hardware packet. “If you change your mind, it should be light enough for two people to move.”
He did not tell her which arrangement would be more efficient, and he did not begin until she returned to the living room. Abby noticed the restraint because Hudson had treated every shared room as a test of whether her preferences could survive his certainty.
The next two hours passed through open doors and partially unpacked rooms. Sadie directed the movers, Abby labeled shelves and drawers, and Evan assembled the desk before adjusting the kitchen cabinet with a screwdriver and two thin metal washers.
His phone rang while he was kneeling beneath the cabinet. He looked at the screen, excused himself, and stepped into the study before answering.
Abby heard only fragments as she unwrapped plates in the kitchen. Evan’s voice remained even while he asked someone to repeat a date, then requested the revised security report and a written explanation from the hospital’s compliance team.
When he returned, he placed the phone facedown on the counter and tested the cabinet door. It closed properly on the first try.
“You fixed it,” Abby said as she opened and closed the door again. “The property manager told me the frame had settled and there was nothing to be done.”
“The hinge was uneven.” Evan returned the screwdriver to his bag. “The frame may also have settled, but it wasn’t responsible for this.”
Abby glanced at the phone on the counter. “Is everything all right at work?”
“It will be.” Evan zipped the tool bag and looked toward the living room, where Sadie was speaking to one of the movers. “The hospital moved the pilot review back six weeks.”
“The inventory system you told me about?” Abby asked as she leaned against the counter. “The one that was supposed to begin next month?”
Evan nodded. “Their security office added another review after the legal team signed off. We sent the same documentation in November, but the person who approved it left.”
“Can they do that this late?” Abby placed the last plate in the cabinet. “You hired people for the pilot, didn’t you?”
“Two implementation engineers.” Evan picked up the empty wrapping paper and folded it into the recycling box. “We have work for them, but the hospital payment was tied to the start date.”
The answer was factual, though the careful way he flattened the paper told Abby the delay was not minor.
She remembered Makayla crying in Abby’s kitchen about Evan’s company consuming every available hour, and how often Abby had accepted the description without asking what he was trying to hold together.
“What does six weeks do to you?” she asked. “Financially, I mean.”
Evan looked at her, then toward the open apartment door. “This is your moving day. You don’t need to spend it discussing my cash flow.”
“I asked because I want to know.” Abby lowered her voice as the movers carried an armchair through the living room. “You can say you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t decide I can’t listen because I’m pregnant and unpacking.”
He accepted the correction without defending himself. “It shortens our runway. We can cover payroll, but I may have to delay my own salary again and ask the board to release part of the next funding tranche early.”
“Will they?” Abby asked as she pushed the recycling box beneath the counter. “You said one of the investors already wanted you to sell.”
“He’ll use the delay as evidence that hospital procurement is too slow for our model.” Evan rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “He isn’t entirely wrong about the procurement part.”
Abby considered the problem. “Does the delay mean the hospital doubts the product?”
“No.” Evan shook his head and leaned one hip against the counter. “The clinical team wants it. The review is administrative, and the product has passed every technical test they set.”
“Then those are different problems.” Abby folded her arms loosely. “The delay could still hurt the company, but it doesn’t prove the system has no market.”
Evan’s expression shifted, not toward relief but attention. “That is the argument I’ll make to the board.”
“You probably have numbers and slides that make it sound more impressive.” Abby reached for another box. “I only have a kitchen with one working cabinet.”
“All five cabinets work,” Evan said as he lifted the box before she could bend for it. “One of them now closes without requiring a specific technique.”
He carried the box to the counter and left it there for her to unpack. The gesture solved the immediate problem without turning into a discussion of what she should or should not lift.
“Stay for dinner,” Abby said as she opened the box. “Sadie ordered too much food, and you can explain the board meeting if you want to practice the argument.”
Evan considered the offer before nodding. “I can stay for an hour. I have to revise the forecast tonight.”
“An hour is fine.” Abby handed him a stack of dish towels. “Those go in the drawer beside the sink, if you want another assignment.”
He placed them in the drawer without refolding them. Abby was grateful for the small evidence that there were tasks Evan completed adequately rather than perfectly.