Chapter 63 Do yourself

As I followed Vivian down the hallway toward Gregory's office, I tried to calm my racing thoughts. Why was the company founder so interested in meeting with me personally? What did he suspect about Bernard and me? And most importantly, what did it mean that my role was "more significant than I realized"?

Vivian stopped outside an imposing set of double doors at the end of the executive hallway. "Mr. Morris is expecting you," she said, knocking once before opening the door.

I stepped into Gregory Morris's office – a space easily three times the size of Bernard's, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of Manhattan. Gregory himself stood by the windows, his back to the door, hands clasped behind him.

"Ms. Peters," he said without turning. "Please, come in."

I moved further into the room, my heels silent on the plush carpet. "Thank you for making time to meet with me, Mr. Morris."

He turned then, fixing me with that penetrating blue gaze. "I make time for people who matter to this company's future, Ms. Peters. And Bernard seems to believe you're quite essential."

The way he emphasized Bernard's name held a hint of... something. Not quite disapproval, but perhaps skepticism.

"Please, sit," he gestured to a seating area near the windows – comfortable leather chairs arranged around a low table.

I took a seat, placing my tablet beside me, trying to project confidence despite my nerves.

Gregory settled into the chair opposite mine, studying me with disconcerting intensity. "Your presentation was excellent. Creative, strategic, perceptive."

"Thank you," I said, waiting for the "but" that seemed likely to follow.

"Bernard has spoken very highly of your work in Tokyo," he continued. "He seems quite... impressed with you."

There was definitely something in his tone now – a subtle emphasis suggesting he was talking about more than just my professional capabilities.

I decided to take Bernard's advice about honesty. "I'm equally impressed with the project. The technology is revolutionary, and I'm excited to be part of bringing it to market effectively."

Gregory nodded slowly. "And what about Bernard himself? Are you impressed with him as well?"

And there it was – the personal question Bernard had warned me about. I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.

"Bernard is an exceptional leader," I said truthfully. "His vision for this project is compelling, and his methods, while sometimes unconventional, are effective."

Gregory's eyes narrowed slightly. "Unconventional. An interesting choice of words."

I held his gaze steadily. "I believe in being direct, Mr. Morris."

"As do I, Ms. Peters," he replied, leaning forward slightly. "So let me be direct with you. Bernard has never brought someone onto this project as quickly as he brought you. He's never advocated for someone with your level of enthusiasm. And he's never been known to develop personal attachments to colleagues."

My heart beat faster, but I kept my expression calm. "Are you asking if there's something personal developing between Bernard and me?"

Gregory's eyebrows rose slightly, perhaps impressed by my directness. "Yes, I am."

I considered lying, considered downplaying it, but remembered Bernard's advice. "There is," I admitted. "Though we're being careful to maintain professional boundaries at work."

"I see," Gregory said, his expression unreadable. "And when did this... personal development begin? Before or after you were hired?"

The question felt like a trap. If I said before, it might suggest impropriety in my hiring. If I said after, it might seem like I was trying to hide something.

"The attraction was there from our first meeting," I said carefully. "But we only acknowledged it recently, after my work in Tokyo proved valuable to the project."

Gregory nodded slowly, as if confirming something to himself. "Bernard mentioned you discovered his observation notebook."

The sudden change of subject caught me off guard. "Yes, I did."

"And yet you're still here," Gregory noted. "Most people would have run for the hills after discovering they'd been watched without their knowledge."

I straightened in my chair, feeling defensive of my choice even as I acknowledged its strangeness. "The project is important enough to warrant unusual security measures. And Bernard has been transparent with me since then."

"Has he?" Gregory asked, a hint of skepticism in his tone. "Has he told you everything about why you specifically were chosen for this project?"

I hesitated, suddenly uncertain. "He said my marketing approach was exactly what the project needed. That my understanding of consumer psychology would help position the technology effectively."

Gregory studied me for a long moment, his blue eyes seeming to see right through me. "That's true, but incomplete," he finally said. "There are aspects of your selection that Bernard hasn't shared with you yet."

I have an unknown hunch. "What aspects?"

Gregory rose from his chair, moving back to the window. "That's for Bernard to explain when he deems it appropriate. I simply wanted to confirm that there are still things you don't know."

I felt a flicker of anger at being kept in the dark, at being talked about as if I were a project rather than a person. "With all due respect, Mr. Morris, if there's something I should know about why I was selected for this position, I'd prefer to hear it now."

Gregory turned back to me, something like approval in his expression. "You're direct. Good. Bernard needs someone who will challenge him." He paused, considering. "But some truths require careful timing, Ms. Peters. And this particular truth is Bernard's responsibility to share."

Frustration welled up inside me. More secrets, more partial information, more cryptic warnings. "Mr. Morris, I've been patient with the gradual revealing of information about this project. But if there's something specific about my selection that I should know, that affects me personally, I believe I have a right to that information."

Gregory's expression softened slightly – the first real crack in his intimidating demeanor. "You do have that right," he agreed unexpectedly. "And you will have that information soon. But not from me."

He returned to his seat, his manner shifting subtly to something more approachable. "What I will tell you is this: Bernard selected you for multiple reasons, all of them valid. Your marketing skills are exceptional, your character is sound, and your perspective is exactly what this project needs."

I waited, sensing there was more.

"But there is another factor," Gregory continued, "a personal connection that Bernard discovered during his research on potential candidates. A connection that made you uniquely valuable to both the project and to Morris Industries."

My mind raced. A personal connection? To Bernard? To the company? I couldn't imagine what he meant. I'd never met Bernard before the coffee "accident," had no prior connection to Morris Industries or anyone in this world.