Edward
The boardroom was glass.
Glass walls, glass table, glass water bottles that sweated onto the white architectural drawings of our new protein shake line. Outside, London was still grey. Inside, the lights were too bright, my tracksuit was too tight and the clock on the wall was moving like it was stuck in treacle.
10:14am.
10:17am.
10:22am.
I was not present. Not really.
My marketing team was walking me through launch renders. Big glossy images of sleek bottles. "Berry Blast." "Salted Caramel Recovery." "Green Focus." Our logo, the small CC, was either 3mm too big or 2mm too small and apparently that was a crisis.
"Edward?" Mara from branding said. "Thoughts on the font weight?"
I blinked. "It's... great. I trust you. Whatever you think."
Three heads turned. I never said "whatever you think." I was the CEO who measured kerning at 2am.
But I couldn't care. Not today.
Because upstairs, in my office, on my couch, was Connor.
