The ten days waiting for Stark Industries' decision were among the longest of David's life. He threw himself into work, site visits, contractor meetings, community events, anything to avoid obsessively checking his email every five minutes.
The Foundation's situation continued to deteriorate. Two more suppliers mysteriously became "unavailable." A promised loan fell through at the last minute due to "revised risk assessment." Another inspector, not Williamson this time, but clearly coordinated, found creative violations at their Queens medical clinic.
"They're tightening the noose," Patricia reported grimly. "Meridian knows we're vulnerable and they're exploiting it systematically."
On day eight, David received an unexpected visitor at a construction site in the Bronx. He was reviewing foundation work with Jorge when a sleek black car pulled up, not threatening, just expensive and out of place in this working-class neighborhood.
A woman emerged, mid-fifties, immaculately dressed in a way that suggested serious money and serious power. She approached David directly, ignoring the construction chaos around her.
"Mr. Chen? I'm Catherine Meridian. I think we should talk."
David felt his stomach drop. Catherine Meridian, as in Meridian Holdings. The person behind the pressure campaign that was slowly strangling his organization.
"I'm working," David said carefully. "If you want to schedule a meeting, "
"This will only take a moment." Catherine's smile was pleasant and utterly cold. "I wanted to introduce myself personally before our next conversation. My representative, Mr. Carr, tells me you declined our partnership offer. I wanted to understand why."
"I told Mr. Carr, "
"Yes, yes. Principles, independence, serving communities over investors. Very noble." Catherine's tone made it clear what she thought of nobility. "Mr. Chen, I'm going to be direct because I respect efficiency. You've built something impressive. Small scale, but impressive. However, you're also financially unstable, operationally vulnerable, and facing increasing regulatory scrutiny."
"Scrutiny you've orchestrated."
"I prefer to think of it as market forces expressing themselves." Catherine looked around the construction site with apparent interest. "This building, for instance. How much are you over budget? How far behind schedule? And that's before considering the permit delays you're undoubtedly facing."
David said nothing.
"My offer is simple and final," Catherine continued. "Meridian acquires controlling interest in the Foundation and David Chen Architecture. You stay on as lead architect and maintain operational involvement. We provide capital, eliminate your regulatory problems, and scale your model across the city. You get to keep building, and you don't have to worry about financing or bureaucratic harassment."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you continue experiencing the difficulties you're currently facing. Which, given your financial situation, means you have perhaps three months before you're forced to either accept less favorable terms or cease operations entirely." Catherine's smile never wavered. "I'm offering you a graceful exit, Mr. Chen. The alternative is considerably less graceful."
"I appreciate the directness," David said, matching her businesslike tone. "My answer is no. The Foundation isn't for sale at any price."
"That's disappointing." Catherine pulled out a business card, setting it on a nearby workbench. "When you change your mind, and you will, call me. The offer expires in sixty days. After that, I'll be considerably less generous."
She returned to her car and drove away, leaving David standing in the construction site, anger and fear warring in his chest.
Jorge approached cautiously. "Boss? You okay?"
"Fine," David lied. "Let's get back to work."
That evening, David called an emergency meeting. He recounted the conversation with Catherine Meridian, and the sixty-day ultimatum.
"She's confident we'll fold," Marcus observed. "Which means she knows something we don't, or she's bluffing."
"Given how effective their pressure campaign has been, I don't think she's bluffing," James said heavily. "David, I hate to say this, but her assessment of our financial situation is accurate. Three months, maybe four. After that..."
"After that, we find another way," David insisted. "We've still got the Stark decision coming. That could change everything."
"And if it doesn't?" Sarah asked quietly.
David didn't have a good answer.
The Stark Industries decision came on day nine, at 4:47 PM on a Friday afternoon.
David was in his office, reviewing yet another round of permit applications, when his phone rang. Manhattan number. His heart started pounding before he even answered.
"David Chen."
"Mr. Chen, Jennifer Walsh from Stark Industries. Do you have a few minutes?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Excellent. I wanted to personally inform you that after careful consideration, our selection committee has chosen your proposal for the Stark Campus Expansion Project."
David's breath caught. "We won?"
"You won. Congratulations. Your design was unanimously praised for its innovation, functionality, and alignment with our corporate values. Mr. Stark was particularly impressed with your collaborative space concepts and integrated sustainability approach."
Relief flooded through David so intensely he felt light-headed. "Thank you. This is, thank you."
"We'll need to discuss contract specifics, timeline, and your proposed partnership structure with a larger firm. Can you come to our offices Monday morning? Say, 9 AM?"
"I'll be there."
"Perfect. Mr. Chen? Mr. Stark asked me to tell you something. He said, and I quote, 'Tell him I like architects who know their limitations and aren't afraid to admit them. That's rarer than you'd think.'"
After the call ended, David sat very still for a moment, processing. Then he picked up his phone and sent a group text to the core team:
We won. Stark Industries chose our proposal. Meeting Monday to discuss contract.
The responses came immediately:
Marcus: Outstanding work. This changes everything.
Sofia: I KNEW IT!!! You're amazing!
James: Thank God. Literally. We needed this.
Patricia: Congratulations. Well deserved.
Sarah: This is incredible! Drinks on me tonight!
David allowed himself a moment of pure, uncomplicated joy. Then he started planning.