Back to business mode

Jack didn't dare look at his phone again. The screen, which he’d hastily locked and flipped face-down on the airport carpet, felt like a burning beacon. Leia’s last text, sent via his number just thirty minutes ago, still echoed in his mind

The sheer audacity, the presumption that Sara wouldn't question the sudden shift in his sexual demands, made his stomach clench. He was paralyzed, unable to confirm, deny, or even explain. He was trapped between saving his career and destroying the last vestiges of trust with his wife.

He looked up, finding himself staring at the polished, steel-grey high-tops of his boss.

Leia, his gorgeous, towering futa boss, was already in full business mode, pacing the small area reserved for First Class check-in clientele. She wore a tailored crimson power suit that seemed to defy the limits of conservative business attire, emphasizing her broad shoulders and the powerful swagger in her stride. Her attention was laser-focused, not on him, but on the impending corporate catastrophe that had necessitated this **** trip.

"Jack, focus," Leia commanded, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. She didn't wait for him to respond, plunging directly into the logistics. "The Goddermans didn't just pull their freight support; they are actively diverting their lines to our direct competitors. That single move could cut our annual revenue projections by thirty-five percent immediately. We collapse by Q3 if we don't secure a replacement contract, and the Newman Group is the only entity with the capacity to come close."

Leia stopped, her hands resting on her hips, her eyes holding his. "Tell me again the correlation between Newman’s primary distribution hub in Mobile and the Goddermans’ shipping volume from the Pacific Rim. If Newman commits to our entire fleet capacity, what is the absolute minimum rate decrease we can afford to offer them to keep the Goddermans leveraged out of the negotiation entirely?"

Jack felt his throat constrict. This was Leia at her best, or perhaps her most terrifying: intellectually demanding, relentless, and completely unconcerned with personal distress.

"I—I need the current fuel hedge projections, Leia," Jack stammered, pulling his laptop from his briefcase. He desperately needed the cold logic of Excel to banish the image of Sara reading that text message. "Based on Q4 2023 metrics, a ten percent reduction would be borderline sustainable, provided the load volume is fifty thousand tonnes minimum per month. Anything lower, and we are operating at a loss simply to sustain the infrastructure."

"Loss is inevitable, Jack," Leia said, dismissing his practicality with a flick of her hand. "Survival isn't about profit right now; it’s about cash flow and market presence. We walk into that Detroit boardroom and we make the Newman Group believe we are the only option that keeps their entire logistical framework from seizing up. You’ll be running the figures live. Get that laptop open."

Jack nodded mutely, clicking the silver hinge of his device. The screen illuminated, bathing his strained face in pale blue light. He spent the next forty-five minutes before boarding calculating theoretical shipping lanes and stress-testing financial models, the Goddermans’ betrayal and the phantom weight of Leia’s textual demands combining into a crushing weight of professional and personal ruin.

The air in Detroit hit them like a cold, damp blanket. They had landed late afternoon. Jack, worn down by hours spent staring at spreadsheets during the short flight, felt a **** need for sleep.

"Cab," Leia commanded, striding past the baggage carousel with the certainty of a general. She carried a single, perfect leather tote, while Jack carried both their briefcases and his heavy laptop bag.

The cab ride into the city was a blur of concrete and grey sky. Jack didn't look out the window. He was still deep in the data, the figures Leia had demanded only getting more complicated.

"The Renaissance Centre," Leia announced to the driver, leaning forward, her voice radiating authority.

The towering glass cylinders of the General Motors global headquarters dominated the skyline, a fitting location for a meeting that would determine the fate of their company. Jack looked up at the reflective surface of the towering building, feeling like a very small, very flawed man about to walk into an overwhelming machine. He was completely out of his depth, but Leia, beside him, seemed to thrive on the sheer scale of the risk.