Page 223 of Terms of Exposure
Dorothy collected the folder, tapping the pages into alignment. "I'll hold these until I receive confirmation from the board. Assuming everything goes smoothly, you'll have copies in your inbox by the end of day."
"Thank you, Dorothy," Damien said, dipping his head.
"Good luck," she replied, but we were already through the door.
Damien checked his watch as we walked through Falkirk's halls. "We have seven minutes before the board meeting. How are you feeling?"
I considered the question.
My hands were steady. My heart was racing, but not unpleasantly—more like anticipation.
"I feel ready," I said, surprised to find I meant it.
Damien smiled—that real one, the one he saved for moments when no one else was watching.
"Good," he said. "Because you're about to walk into a room full of board members and tell them you're in love with their CEO."
"You're the one who's going to tell them that."
"We're telling them together." He offered his hand. "That's the whole point."
I looked at his outstretched palm.
At the man attached to it—flawed, terrified, trying so hard. Just like me.
I took his hand.
"Let's gomake it official," I said, squeezing once before letting it fall. We couldn't walk in holding hands—not yet. There was a protocol to this, a performance. We'd rehearsed it last night, though "rehearsed" was a generous term for Damien listing talking points while I nodded and tried not to hyperventilate.
Damien pushed open the doors. The boardroom had never looked so intimidating.
A room full of familiar faces already arranged around the long mahogany table, coffee cups and leather folios positioned with care. Some smiled as we entered—Farnsworth, Linda, Alicia. Others were indifferent—Lang, Richter, Ashford, and Shore. And at the far end of the table, looking like he'd swallowed something sour: Nathan Bell.
His gaze tracked us as we entered, sharp and calculating.
"Good morning," Damien said, taking his seat at the head of the table as I took mine next to Farnsworth. "Thank you all for accommodating this meeting on short notice."
"Your email was vague," Alicia said, though her tone held amusement rather than rebuke. "'Personal matter requiring board acknowledgment.' Care to enlighten us?"
"That's why we're here." Damien folded his hands on the table, composed and steady. "As some of you may have surmised over the past several weeks, Ms. Sinclair and I are in a relationship."
A beat of stunned silence.
Then Linda Cavanaugh snorted. "Well, finally."
I blinked. "I'm sorry—what?"
"Oh, please," she said, waving a hand. "The two of you have been orbiting each other for weeks."
She pointed at Farnsworth. "You owe me lunch."
Farnsworth let out a low grumble. "I said they'd announce it after Christmas. I guess I was being a bit pessimistic."
"You were being delusional," Linda corrected.
I looked at Damien, who appeared equally thrown. This was… not how we expected this to go.
"We're here to formally disclose," Damien continued, recovering smoothly. "We've already filed with HR. But we want to ensure full transparency and address any concerns the board may have."
