Chapter 53
Evelyn noticed the movement. He was ready to look at details now.
She flipped to slide twelve. A complete financial projection table filled the screen.
"Construction costs for the experience pavilion zone are thirty-two percent lower than a traditional commercial complex. The reason is we don't need large-scale steel structures or curtain walls. Core investment goes into digital content production and equipment procurement. Equipment procurement uses a leasing model. Average annual cost for the first three years runs between twelve and fifteen million dollars."
Her finger tapped the fourth column of the table.
"Revenue side. Pavilion ticket revenue is calculated at an average daily traffic of two thousand visitors, eighty dollars per capita spending. Annual ticket revenue comes to fifty-eight million dollars. Add in the rental increases from Phase One's commercial district due to increased foot traffic, and the payback period for Phase Three investment is twenty-eight months."
The unfamiliar woman wrote a number in her notebook.
Evelyn saw where she wrote it—right next to the payback period. She circled it.
Evelyn continued. Data center functional positioning, creative space brand incubation model, public service facilities policy coordination plan. She covered each section in three to four minutes, data accurate to one decimal place.
Forty minutes later, she flipped to the final slide.
That photograph of the old street again.
But this time, a line of text appeared beside the photo: [Make those who've been want to return. Make those who haven't been want to walk in.]
Evelyn closed the slide remote in her palm.
"That's the core framework of the Phase Three proposal. Detailed technical plans and financial appendices are in the folder for you to take with you."
When the Q&A session began, the first question came from the unfamiliar woman.
"Ms. Kendall, I'm the investor representative for the Eastside project. Linda Tucker."
Evelyn nodded once.
Investor representative. No wonder her seat was closer to the head than the CFO's.
Linda spun the pen between her fingers.
"Have you finalized the tech supplier for the digital twin model?"
"We've had preliminary contact with three vendors. One has already entered the technical verification stage. Supplier screening criteria and comparison reports are on pages eight through eleven of the appendix."
Linda nodded.
"Second question. You mentioned that content production for the pavilion requires historical archives and oral history records. How will copyright ownership for those materials be handled?"
"Oral history records will be collected by our team. Copyright belongs to the project company. For the historical archive portion, we need to sign an authorization agreement with the city archives. We've already had preliminary discussions with the archives' legal team on the authorization template. Framework terms are on page fifteen of the appendix."
Linda's pen stopped.
She glanced at Kevin.
Behind his glasses, Kevin's gaze rested on Evelyn's face.
"Ms. Kendall."
"Mr. Harrison."
"I'll sign the framework agreement today."
Kevin picked up a pen from the table and handed it to the assistant beside him. The assistant pulled two pre-prepared agreements from the folder and turned to the signature page.
Evelyn took the agreement and scanned through the terms. Framework agreements had limited binding power, but the signal was clear—the client recognized this team.
She signed her name in the signature field.
The sound of the pen tip on paper traced a thin line through the quiet conference room.
---
News traveled back to Ashford Group faster than Evelyn had anticipated.
That same afternoon at five-ten, Mr. Lewis pushed open Sebastian's office door.
A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead. His shirt collar was loose. He clutched a printed industry newsletter bulletin in his hand.
"Mr. Ashford, something happened with Eastside Phase Three."
Sebastian sat behind his desk, computer screen lit in front of him.
He didn't look up.
"The client signed a framework agreement with Parker Group." Mr. Lewis placed the bulletin on the desk, finger pressing on the headline. "The project liaison... is Evelyn."
Sebastian's fingers stopped on the mouse.
He looked up, glanced at Mr. Lewis.
That glance held no anger.
No surprise either.
"Parker Group used underhanded tactics to steal the client." Mr. Lewis's voice sped up half a beat. "We can—"
"How many times have you visited the client?"
Sebastian cut him off.
Mr. Lewis's mouth closed.
"After Evelyn left, how many versions of the Phase Two proposal did you submit? How many times did the client send them back?"
Mr. Lewis's throat moved.
"The client's project director changed last month. The new person doesn't recognize—"
"Doesn't recognize you." Sebastian's voice wasn't loud, but each word nailed into the desk. "Not that they don't recognize Ashford Group. They don't recognize your proposals. The Eastside project never had problems when it was in Evelyn's hands. She left, and you can't even get through the client's door. Whose problem is that, really?"
Mr. Lewis stood in front of the desk, fingers pinching the edge of the bulletin. The paper wrinkled into a thin crease under his grip.
He didn't speak.
Sebastian leaned back in his chair.
"You're dismissed."
Mr. Lewis turned toward the door.
As he pulled it open, he heard a sentence from behind him.
"Put out a notice. Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock. Full marketing department meeting. Only one topic. Starting today, Ashford Group stops discussing Evelyn. Discussing her does us no good. Put the energy into our own projects."
Mr. Lewis nodded once and closed the door.
The office went quiet.
Sebastian's hand rested on the armrest of his chair. His right index finger scraped across the leather surface of the armrest. The arc of his nail pressed a shallow mark into it.
Eastside Phase Three. The client had signed the framework agreement. Specifically requested Evelyn.
In less than three months, she'd uprooted the client relationships he'd spent two years building.
She didn't steal them. Didn't force it.
The client walked over to her on their own.
Sebastian opened his phone. The screen still showed an encrypted file notification his assistant had sent half an hour ago. Tracking results for Ben Fund's actual controller.
He didn't click it.
He opened his browser instead and entered Parker Group's official website URL.
The page loaded for two seconds.
The homepage banner had changed. A rendering of the Pine Hill tourism project filled the screen. Below the Parker Group logo, a new tagline appeared: "Guardians of Urban Memory."
Sebastian's thumb scrolled down.
Executive information page.
When the page loaded, his finger stopped.
Deputy Director of Strategic Marketing.
A headshot.
Evelyn.
In the photo, she wore a white blouse, hair tied back. She wasn't smiling.
Below the photo was a caption: Evelyn Kendall, Deputy Director of Strategic Marketing. Oversees tourism real estate and urban renewal business divisions.
Probationary period ended early.
Official promotion.
Sebastian's thumb pressed against the screen, pressed against that headshot.
The pixels on the screen lost focus under his fingertip.
Luna stood in front of the whiteboard in the conference room, holding an uncapped marker.
Twelve people from the Strategic Marketing Department sat on both sides of the long table. The row of chairs closest to the door was full. Evelyn sat in the right-center position of the long table, a morning meeting agenda spread out in front of her.
Luna pulled the cap off the marker, then put it back on.
"One announcement."
Her gaze swept across both sides of the long table, not lingering on anyone's face.
"The executive office has approved a personnel appointment. Effective immediately, Evelyn is Deputy Director of Strategic Marketing, overseeing tourism real estate and urban renewal business divisions. Probationary period evaluation completed early. Assessment rating: A."
The conference room went quiet for two seconds.
Gary, the data analyst sitting across from Evelyn, was the first to react. He clapped twice. Scattered applause followed, spreading from the left side to the right.