Chapter 3
PATRICK
Ileaned back in my leather desk chair, the cool night air of Seattle brushing through the cracked window.
Rain tapped against the glass in rhythmic drops, each one like a heartbeat echoing in the otherwise silent room.
My gaze stayed fixed on the footage playing on the flat-screen mounted across from my desk.
It was the highlight reel of last night’s gala, a perfectly curated version of events, where I appeared confident and in control.
Sadie, too, looked flawless beside me, her presence radiant, yet there was something about her demeanor that made me pause, something distant in the way she smiled at the camera, her eyes not quite meeting the lens.
The footage didn’t lie, but it didn’t tell the full truth.
Sadie was a natural in the background, standing just out of the spotlight as though it were where she felt safest. She wasn’t unhappy, but I could tell she wasn’t thrilled either.
I knew my wife too well to mistake that tight-lipped smile as anything other than forced composure.
“Late night?” The door creaked open, and Alyssa stepped inside, holding two cups of coffee. She shut the door quietly behind her and walked across the office, setting one down on my desk.
“Yeah, just reviewing some of the press from the gala,” I answered, gesturing toward the screen. “You’ve been doing a great job managing the narrative.”
She sat on the edge of the sofa, legs crossed, looking effortlessly poised in her pencil skirt and silk blouse.
Alyssa had a way about her, a kind of effortless charm that drew people in, a trait I’d always found impressive.
She knew how to work a room, how to smooth out the rough edges of any situation.
That was why I trusted her. She had been invaluable in the past few months as Holbrook Aviation’s profile rose, and Sadie’s vision gained more visibility.
Alyssa understood that Sadie was a genius, but not everyone could grasp that from just looking at her.
“You think Sadie looked okay out there?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes watching me closely.
I frowned, pausing the video. “She was fine.”
Alyssa smiled softly, a knowing expression that made me lean in.
“She hates this kind of thing, you know that better than anyone. All that attention makes her uncomfortable. I think she appreciated me taking over during the presentation.” She tilted her head.
“It’s a lot of pressure, especially when you’re not used to being in the public eye. ”
My heart clenched a little at the thought.
It was true; Sadie never enjoyed the spotlight the way others did.
She preferred being in her workshop or with her team, buried in the intricate details of her projects.
But sometimes, I wished she would let herself be seen a little more, especially when she had earned the recognition.
It hurt me to see her uncomfortable, especially when she deserved to bask in her achievements.
“I just want people to understand what she’s done,” I said, more to myself than Alyssa. “She’s brilliant, but not everyone gets that just by looking at the numbers.”
“I get that,” Alyssa replied, nodding. “And I think people do get it now. The media loved how she handled herself: subtle but confident. And it helps that she had someone to take over the presentation. If it had been all on her, I think the defense contractors would have seen her freeze up. They’re not looking for technical perfection right now, just confidence. ”
Her words settled over me like a heavy blanket, warm and suffocating at once.
It made perfect, agonizing sense. I had seen Sadie freeze once or twice before when put on the spot unexpectedly, her brilliant mind suddenly going blank as dozens of eyes turned toward her.
She was better in her element, surrounded by the familiar comfort of machines and blueprints, not in rooms full of people waiting to be impressed.
Her genius was a delicate flower that bloomed only in controlled conditions, not in the harsh spotlight of corporate presentations where every word was scrutinized.
“I told her to let you handle the PR,” I said with a sigh. “Sometimes she thinks it’s undermining her, but I see it as protecting her. She has so much on her plate with the production lines and the museum. I’d hate for her to get overwhelmed by the press.”
Alyssa reached forward and touched my arm lightly. “You’re a good husband, Patrick. She’s lucky to have someone who understands her so well.”
Her hand lingered just a second longer than necessary, but I didn’t pull away.
It was a gesture of support, one colleague to another.
And I knew Alyssa understood the dynamics at play in our world in ways Sadie never would.
Sadie was both artist and engineer, but Alyssa was the bridge between that brilliance and the world that needed to see it.
It was a partnership of sorts, one that I thought worked well for all of us.
“Anyway,” Alyssa continued, sitting back, “I’m here late, too. We have some follow-up with the defense contractors. I’m going over some numbers in the conference room if you need me.” She gave me one last smile, stood up, and left the room quietly.
I stared after her for a moment, my mind circling back to Sadie.
She had been distant lately, frustrated, but I told myself it was because she was stretched thin.
She had the A-40 production deadlines, the museum, and now this new wave of attention after the Eco-Turbine’s launch.
It was understandable that she would feel overwhelmed.
That’s why I encouraged her to delegate the public-facing stuff to Alyssa.
I sighed, pushing the footage to the back of my mind as I checked my emails. My thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from my phone. A text from Sadie.
Working late tonight. Don’t wait up.
A part of me smiled, picturing her in the museum, bent over a half-restored engine or going over blueprints. She was in her element when she was working with her hands, not dealing with press releases or corporate events. I sent a quick reply.
Love you. Call if you need anything.
The phone screen dimmed, and I leaned back again, looking out at the rain-soaked city.
I loved her more than anything: her brilliance, her quiet strength, her passion for her work.
But I also knew that pushing her into the spotlight would only make her miserable.
If she wasn’t comfortable taking center stage, I’d be happy to do it for her.
And if that meant working with Alyssa to make sure her genius was properly represented to the world, then I didn’t mind it in the slightest.
Hours passed, the night deepened, and I finally packed up my things.
The office was quiet as I made my way to the door, the sound of my shoes on the marble floor echoing in the cavernous space.
The rain outside had softened to a gentle mist, blurring the city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I turned off the lamps one by one, plunging sections of the room into shadow until only the ambient glow from the Seattle skyline illuminated my path.
Just as I reached for the handle to exit, I saw light spilling from the conference room down the hall.
Curiosity pulled me in that direction, the faint light like a beacon in the otherwise darkened corridor.
I didn’t expect anyone to still be here at this hour.
Most of my executives had gone home hours ago, their families awaiting them in Seattle’s various neighborhoods.
When I reached the slightly ajar door, I stopped, the sound of my own breathing suddenly seeming loud in the quiet hallway.
Alyssa was still inside, her professional hairdo now undone, the dark waves cascading down around her shoulders as she hunched over a stack of documents, her brow furrowed in concentration.
The dim overhead lights of the conference room caught her profile, casting one side of her face in shadow while highlighting the determined set of her jaw.
“You’re still here?” I asked, stepping inside.
She looked up, startled, then gave me a tired smile.
“Yeah. Just trying to clean up some of the follow-ups from the gala. Thought I’d make sure the defense contractors have everything they need for the next round of meetings.
” Her voice sounded soft in the silence, her eyes rimmed with faint fatigue that didn’t take away from her natural poise.
I stood there for a moment, impressed. Alyssa wasn’t just charming in a room full of people; she was dedicated, too. She stayed late when it mattered, even when it wasn’t asked of her. “I appreciate that,” I said, stepping closer. “You didn’t have to, though.”
Alyssa shrugged, looking back at her papers.
“I wanted to. After last night... Well, I know there were some mixed feelings, especially from Sadie.” She paused, then glanced up at me, her eyes searching my face.
“She seemed a little upset when I stepped in during the presentation. I wasn’t sure if I overstepped, but those investors were ready for someone more polished in that moment.
And it didn’t seem like Sadie was prepared to handle the questions they wanted answers for. ”
I moved toward the table, resting my hand on the back of one of the conference chairs.
Her words were gentle, but they stung. I didn’t want Sadie to think that Alyssa had overstepped, but I had seen it myself, the slight tension in Sadie’s posture when Alyssa took the stage.
My wife hadn’t said much afterward, but her silence spoke volumes.
She’d been frustrated, though she tried to mask it behind her usual cool demeanor.
“I don’t think she was upset with you personally,” I said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “She just hates not being in control of her own projects. It’s not you, it’s how she is.”