Page 39 of Dial F for Finance

“I mean it.” And I do. More than they understand. But the reasons belong to Jenna, and I won’t offer up pieces of her simply because they want answers. “Jenna is already halfway to the exit. If all of you come at her with commentary and theories and the exact face Caleb is making right now, she’ll bolt. She needs time. She needs space.”

Caleb tips his head. “Space,” he repeats. He gestures, vaguely, at the entirety of me—the mouth, the hair, the general dishevelment. “You seem to be giving her outstanding space. Genuine master class. They should film it.”

“That was unrelated.”

“Was it.”

“It was a separate matter. And this,” I announce to the room at large, “is harassment. Actionable, well-documented harassment, and I’d like it on the record that I’m facing it entirely without counsel.” I look at Bennett. “You’ve got a Kingsley sitting right there with his shoes on the furniture. Where’s mine?”

Bennett doesn’t miss a beat. “Caleb isn’t here as my lawyer. He’s here as our friend.”

“He has a retainer with your name on it and a billing increment measured in seconds. He’s here as both.” I point at Caleb. “I want David. I pay his retainer fee and I paid the designer to fix your firm’s ugly decor. And somehow Bennett gets a Kingsley for backup and I get publicly dismantled with no representation at all.”

“David’s stuck in a deposition till two,” Caleb says. “You’ve got me. I bill the same either way.”

“You’re on his side.”

“I’m on the side of whoever’s more entertaining, and right now, Dom, it’s you. By a distance.”

Logan abruptly closes his laptop. “I’ll back you up,” he says.

I look at him. “You’re an engineer.”

“I’m aware of the limitation. But I have two PhDs and you’re my closest friend. So . . .” He shrugs. It lands somewhere uncomfortably warm behind my ribs. Logan hates arguments involving feelings and has volunteered anyway.

“Thank you, Logan.”

“I’ll be useless.”

“I know. It’s the gesture.”

Bennett clears his throat. “If we’re not allowed to discuss Tokyo, can we at least discuss actual business before my day gets hijacked by this re-enactment of middle-school gym class?”

Caleb snorts, but moves his feet off the chair. “You couldn’t pay me enough to relive middle school. All set—what’s on the agenda?”

Bennett pulls the Nakamura file up on the screen.

“Ah.” Logan raises his hand.

“Put your damn hand down. We just said no to middle school,” Caleb teases.

“Yeah,” Logan starts. “And we also said no to Tokyo. That, right there, is Tokyo.” He points to the screen where the Nakamura timeline is laid out.

“Business Tokyo is fine, man,” I tell him.

“Right,” Caleb adds. “It’s just lipstick-all-over-the-face Tokyo we can’t discuss.”

“You are such a child,” I say, flipping the bird at him as he laughs.

Bennett just rolls his eyes and continues. “If I may . . .”

We walk the Chicago end of the deal. The board still has to bless the revised terms, and Nakamura’s people are already testing every inch around the five-percent concession—pushing on audit timing, pressing for flexibility in the distribution calendar, looking for proof that holding governance meant we’d gone soft everywhere else. Caleb takes notes. Logan flags two dependencies nobody else caught, because Logan is a certified genius, which is precisely why we keep him within reach.

Caleb’s the first to break the work trance, spinning the pen between his fingers and giving me a look that’s as close to sincere as he gets. “By the way, tell Jenna her contract work is the only reason Nakamura can’t reopen the entire price schedule every time a component cost moves. She boxed the five percent into one line, made disclosure reciprocal, and left governance untouched. It’s ruthless.” He grins, almost proud. “Can’t believe I thought you’d be the shark in this deal, Cruz. Turns out you’re just the mascot. She’s the actual predator.”

Logan nods. “That’s correct. If Nakamura claims another variance, they have to open their own cost data. She turned their leverage into an audit trail.”

I smile to myself as I look at the screen. “She really is something special.” I don’t miss the looks that are exchanged around me.