Chapter 23
SABINE
“Wait…say that again?” Sabine asked, pressing her palm to her forehead like it might somehow muffle the headache beginning to bloom.
Her boss, Stephen Lewin, leaned back in his chair with the kind of practiced calm that only came from decades of navigating messy meetings and impossible timelines.
He wasn’t being smug—just strategic. He always was.
Which, ironically, was part of the reason she respected him.
“I said we’re moving forward with Grener to oversee the legal end of the new contracts for Pillar Grove,” he repeated evenly. “They’ve handled high-level procurement agreements for us before, and frankly, I trust them.”
Sabine sat still for a beat too long, the weight of her silence pressing into the room. She wasn’t shocked. Not really. She’d seen Adair’s firm name in the preliminary notes last week and had been waiting to see if it was real or just a placeholder. Apparently, it was real.
“I understand your hesitation,” Stephen added, misreading the pause. “But this isn’t about anything personal. We need airtight oversight on these contracts, especially with how much we’re funneling into Aderra. You know what this phase means—for all of us.”
Sabine nodded, finally. “I do,” she said quietly. “I know what it means.”
And she did. Aderra—her baby, her blueprint, her impossible, beautiful gamble—was finally being spun off from Pillar Grove as its own entity.
The licensing, the operations, the tech—all of it was entering the make-or-break stage, and Stephen, to his credit, had been her biggest advocate.
He could’ve been slimy and taken it from her a dozen different ways but instead, he’d backed her.
Helped secure the funding. Publicly endorsed her as the founder and face of the new rollout.
“I’m not questioning your decision,” she said after a long breath. “I’m just…” She trailed off, looking down at the corner of her notepad.
“You’re just not thrilled to be in a room with your ex-husband again while trying to lead the biggest pivot of your career?” Stephen finished for her, without judgment.
She cracked a reluctant smile. “Something like that.”
“I’d feel the same way,” he said, then leaned forward. “But for what it’s worth? You’re still the one I’m betting on. You’re the only reason this company is even moving in this direction, and I’ll be damned if I let a little discomfort—or a man—keep that from happening.”
His tone was firm, but kind. Supportive, not dismissive and Sabine needed that. Not just the affirmation, but the reminder that she had allies who believed in her for her. Not because of who she used to be attached to. Not because of who she’d outgrown.
“Thank you.” She gave a small nod.
Stephen stood, gathering his notes. “And hey, Dayne might be your ex, but he’s still the best attorney in the city and he’s got every reason to make sure you succeed. His firm’s reputation is on the line now, too.”
Sabine exhaled, letting the weight of it settle.
It wasn’t about Adair helping. It wasn’t even about the past—not entirely. It was about him and Harlan in the same damn room.
Adair, who still looked at her like she belonged to him.
Who couldn’t keep the heat out of his voice when someone else mentioned her name.
Who had made the sweetest love to her a week ago.
Who, no matter how far they drifted, still had the power to pull at something so ancient and electric in her that it scared her more than it soothed her.
And Harlan.
Harlan Creed, the man who’d shown her something she hadn’t seen in years—ease. Not intensity, not chaos, not history. Grown-ass interest. Something that didn’t demand she unravel or explain. Something that didn’t burn, but warmed.
Adair and Harlan in the same boardroom? There wasn’t a universe that existed where that wouldn’t turn awkward at best and disrespectful at worst.
Sabine sighed and stood, nodding once before heading out of Stephen’s office. She didn’t have time to spiral. She had a product launch in four weeks, six investor calls this week alone, and a staff of newly onboarded developers who still didn’t fully understand the culture of Aderra.
And speaking of new hires…
“Biiiiine!” Narri’s voice sang across the open floor of their suite.
Sabine turned with a laugh as Narri approached, heels clicking in a confident rhythm, black slacks tailored to perfection, and a blazer sharp enough to slice through the strongest of male egos that surrounded them.
Narri had been raised on galas, brunches, and benefits; she knew how to dress the part and own the room.
Even after years of motherhood and chaos, her walk still whispered debutante turned dominator.
“How’s onboarding?” Sabine smiled, as they gave each other a warm hug.
“They had me watching safety protocol videos all morning and now they got me reading manuals. I haven’t read this much since eighth grade,” Narri muttered. “But I ain’t complaining. A job is a job.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Forreal?”
“Of course.” Sabine meant it. “You’re smart, Nar. You got a whole degree in data science that you never even talk about. I know you took time off to be a mommy and try to work it out with Tate, but that didn’t make your brain disappear.”
Narri looked down, quiet for a second. “I was starting to feel like I didn’t have much to give outside my babies and don’t get me wrong,” she cleared up quickly.
“You know I love my kids,” she leaned in to whisper.
“Even this one,” she subtly rubbed her stomach.
“But I needed more, Bine. I need to find me again.”
“And you will, this is just the beginning.”
The truth was, Sabine had pulled a string to get her the position.
Not as charity but because she knew what Narri was capable of and because if they were going to build Aderra the way she dreamed it, it had to include women like them.
Black women who hadn’t taken the straight path.
Who’d been overlooked, underestimated, boxed in and written off.
She didn’t want a startup full of padded resumes and no heart.
She wanted real ones.
They walked toward Sabine’s office, Narri keeping pace easily beside her, heels clicking against the polished floor.
“So,” Sabine began, pushing the door open and motioning Narri inside, “I know the onboarding’s dry, but once we get through this first week, I really want to plug you in with the analytics team.
You’ll be working directly with our senior data strategist to refine user behavior mapping for the beta rollout. ”
Narri’s eyes lit with interest. “You mean like A/B testing, traffic segmentation, all that?”
Sabine nodded, impressed but not surprised.
“Exactly and eventually, I want you leading the weekly insights briefs. I know you haven’t been in the game recently, but your instincts are sharp.
I remember your Capstone on predictive algorithms for community engagement.
You don’t lose that just because you’ve been changing diapers. ”
Narri chuckled, then turned serious. “Bine…I needed this. Not just the job, but the way you see me. I forgot what it felt like to be more than someone’s baby mama.”
“You were never just that,” Sabine leaned against her desk and smiled. “And Aderra’s gonna prove it.”
Narri smiled back, but before she could respond, there was a knock on the glass door and it slid halfway open. “Excuse me, ladies,” came a smooth, low voice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Sabine straightened instinctively, eyes narrowing slightly but not unfriendly. “You’re fine,” she said. “Come in.”
Harlan Creed stepped through the doorway, crisp in his slate suit, no tie today, but still every inch composed. Confident. His cologne was subtle but intentional, and that small dimple when he smiled? Completely disarming.
Narri blinked once, then looked at Sabine like she’d just found the missing piece to a juicy-ass puzzle. “Well, hello,” she muttered under her breath, but loud enough for Sabine to hear.
Sabine ignored her.
“I was just stopping by to say I locked in the software vendor proposal,” Harlan said, handing Sabine a slim folder. “There’s some aggressive pricing if we decide by end of day, so I flagged the summary page.”
“Thank you,” Sabine said, taking the folder without meeting his eyes too long.
Harlan glanced at Narri, offering a polite nod. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Oh, I’m Narri,” she said, holding out her hand. “New data hire. Just started this week.”
“Welcome to the team,” Harlan said, shaking her hand. “You’re in good hands with this one.”
“Oh, I’m sure I am.” Narri smirked.
Harlan grinned like he knew he was being talked about and didn’t mind. “Alright then. I’ll get out your way.” He dipped his head and turned, walking out just as smoothly as he came in.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Narri turned, eyes wide with mischief. “Mmmmmhmmmmm. So that’s Mr. Sexy Money Bags?”
“Please don’t start.” Sabine rubbed her temple.
“Girl, you should’ve warned me. I’d have worn my even gooderwig.”
“He’s not…it’s not like that.”
“Oh, but you want it to be like that,” Narri teased. “That man look like he got old jazz and emotional intelligence on his playlists. I’m just saying.”
Sabine didn’t respond right away. She shifted, reaching for the folder Harlan had left but mostly to avoid looking Narri in the eye.
The truth was, it almost had been like that. The night she and Harlan had gone out, they’d gotten close. Close enough that if Adair hadn’t still been sitting in her bones like a memory that refused to die, she might’ve let herself fall forward.
But she hadn’t told Narri the rest. That after she left Harlan’s condo—flushed, curious, open—she ended up in Adair’s bed that same night—very early morning. Or maybe it was his arms first. His apology. His ache. His hands on her. She hadn’t said a word about that night. Not even to Narri. Not yet.