The contract negotiations took three weeks and were more complex than David had anticipated. Stark Industries' legal team was formidable, their standards exacting, and their expectations high. But James and Patricia navigated the process expertly, and David's willingness to compromise on non-essential points while holding firm on core principles proved effective.
The final contract was comprehensive: David Chen Architecture would lead design for the Stark Campus Expansion, partnering with a larger firm called Morrison & Associates for project management and construction oversight. Total project value: $87 million, with David's firm receiving $12 million in design fees and ongoing supervision compensation.
"Twelve million dollars," James said, staring at the signed contract with something approaching religious awe. "David, this solves our financial problems. All of them. We've got runway for years, capital for expansion, credibility for future contracts. This is transformational."
"It's also a massive responsibility," David replied. "We have to deliver. If we screw this up, it doesn't just hurt us, it validates everyone who said we weren't ready for projects this scale."
"We won't screw it up," Patricia said confidently. "We'll treat this like any other project: meticulous planning, careful execution, constant communication. The principles don't change just because the budget got bigger."
The announcement of the contract made minor waves in architecture circles and major waves in David's life. Architecture Today requested a follow-up interview. Three other major firms reached out about potential collaborations. His inbox flooded with congratulations, inquiries, and thinly veiled attempts to poach his staff.
And Catherine Meridian called.
"Congratulations on the Stark contract," she said pleasantly when David answered. "That's quite an achievement for such a small firm."
"Thank you."
"I assume this changes your financial calculations. You're no longer desperate for capital, which makes my previous offer less compelling."
"It was never compelling," David replied. "But yes, our situation has improved."
"I'm pleased for you. Truly." Catherine's tone suggested otherwise. "However, the offer I made still stands. Meridian remains interested in partnership, though obviously the terms would need adjustment given your improved position."
"My answer is still no."
"I understand. But Mr. Chen, a word of advice from someone who's been in this business longer than you've been alive: success attracts attention. Not all of it friendly. The Stark contract makes you visible in ways you weren't before. That visibility cuts both ways."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's an observation. You've built something valuable while flying under the radar. Now you're on the radar. That changes the game." Catherine paused. "The offer remains open if you reconsider. But I won't push. You've earned the right to make your own mistakes."
After she hung up, David sat thinking about her warning. She wasn't wrong, the Stark contract did make him more visible. But visibility also meant legitimacy, resources, and connections. The calculation had changed, and in David's favor.
He called Marcus. "Catherine Meridian just called. Congratulated me on the Stark contract and made some vaguely ominous comments about visibility attracting attention."
"Think she's backing off?"
"I think she's regrouping. The pressure campaign was predicated on us being desperate. We're not desperate anymore, so she needs a new approach."
"Or she gives up entirely."
"I doubt that. People like Catherine Meridian don't give up, they adapt. We should stay alert."
Marcus agreed, and David returned to the more immediate challenge: actually delivering on the Stark contract.