Chapter 44 THE BOARDROOM AND THE BEDROOM

Chapter 44 THE BOARDROOM AND THE BEDROOM
August came in hot and with an agenda.  
The capsule numbers were in. Sold out. Press called it “the comeback.” Investors called it “proof of concept.” Emily called it “three weeks I’ll never get back.”  
Ethan called it “the reason we need to talk.”  
He said it on a Tuesday, while helping Liam zip a rain jacket that didn’t fit because July was pretending to be fall.  
“Tonight?” Emily asked, trying to sound casual.  
“After Liam’s in bed,” Ethan said. “Board wants to meet you.”  
Emily froze mid-zip. “Me?”  
“You,” Ethan said. “They want to offer you a seat.”  
Emily let go of the zipper. “As what?”  
“As Head of Creative. With voting rights. Not a figurehead.”  

Liam broke the moment. “Can we get pancakes after?”  
“Extra special,” Ethan said, ruffling his hair.  
But Emily’s stomach was already in knots.  
That night the apartment was quiet at 9:12pm.  
Liam was asleep. Dishes were done. The rain was tapping the windows.  

Ethan poured two glasses of water. Set one in front of Emily.  
“They’re serious,” he said. “They saw what you did with the fire. With the launch. They want you in the room where decisions get made.”  
Emily spun the glass. “I don’t want to be a board wife. I want to run Emi’s.”  
“You would still run Emi’s,” Ethan said. “This would be separate. You’d have a say in the parent company. The one that funds everything.”  
“And you?” Emily asked.  
“I’m already on the board,” Ethan said. “This would mean we’re in meetings together. A lot.”  
Emily looked at him. “Is that a good idea?”  
“Probably not,” Ethan said honestly. “But it’s the right one.”  
Emily didn’t answer. She was thinking about the last time they mixed business and them. It ended with lawyers and a custody schedule.  

Ethan noticed. “I know what you’re thinking.”  
“Then you know I’m terrified,” Emily said.  
“Of what?”  
“Of us becoming a merger instead of a family.”  
Ethan reached across the table and took her hand. “Then we make rules. No work talk after 8. No emails in bed. If it gets messy, we go to therapy. Again.”  
Emily laughed, short and surprised. “You’ve thought about this.”  
“I have,” Ethan said. “Because I want you there. Because you’re the smartest person I know. And because if I have to sit through another board meeting without you rolling your eyes at me, I might lose it.”  

Emily squeezed his hand. “When do they want an answer?”  
“Friday.”  
“Okay,” Emily said. “Okay. I’ll do it.”  
Friday was a storm.  
The boardroom was glass and cold air and men in suits who called her “Ms. Hart” like they were testing the name.  

Emily wore the blue jacket from the capsule. The one Ethan said was her.  
She walked in, set down a portfolio, and didn’t smile until she meant it.  

Two hours later she walked out with a contract and a title.  
Head of Creative. Voting member.  
Ethan was waiting by the elevator.  
“Well?” he asked.  
“I said yes,” Emily said. “And I asked for a daycare stipend in the contract.”  
Ethan blinked. Then he laughed. Loud. “Of course you did.”  

They celebrated with bad takeout on the floor. Liam wore the jacket and declared himself “the boss.”  
The first month was fine.  
Board meetings on Tuesdays. Emily brought notes. Ethan brought coffee. They didn’t sit next to each other.  
They had dinner at 7:30. No phones.  
It worked.  

Until the Thursday in late August.  
Emergency meeting. 9pm.  
A competitor was trying a hostile takeover of a smaller brand. The board was split.  
Emily voted no.  
Ethan voted yes.  
After, in the parking garage, it got loud.  
“You just tanked the deal,” Ethan said.  
“It would’ve killed 200 jobs,” Emily shot back.  
“That’s not your call to make emotionally,” Ethan said.  
“And it’s not yours to make for profit,” Emily said.  
They stood there, breathing hard, under fluorescent lights.  
Liam was with Diane.  
No one was watching.  

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “This is what I was afraid of.”  
“Me too,” Emily said. Her voice shook. “So what now? We quit?”  
Ethan looked at her. Really looked. Tired. Frustrated. Still there.  
“No,” he said. “Now we go home. And we fight fair. And we remember we’re on the same team outside this building.”  
Emily nodded. “Okay.”  
“Okay,” Ethan said.  

They drove home in separate cars.  
At the apartment, Emily was on the couch when Ethan came in.  
She didn’t get up.  
He sat on the floor in front of her.  
“I’m sorry I yelled,” he said.  
“I’m sorry I made it personal,” Emily said.  
Ethan took her hands. “We’re going to disagree. A lot. That doesn’t mean we’re done.”  
Emily exhaled. “I don’t want to be done.”  
“Good,” Ethan said. “Because I’m not.”  
He leaned in and kissed her. Slow. Like an apology and a promise.  
When they pulled back, Emily rested her forehead on his.  
“Rule number one,” she said. “No boardroom fights in the bedroom.”  
“Deal,” Ethan said. “Rule number two. Pancakes on Sundays. No matter what.”  
“Deal,” Emily said.  
Outside, August was cooling off.  
Inside, they were learning a new kind of hard.  
The kind where you choose each other even when you don’t agree.  
The kind where “one day at a time” meant showing up to the hard days too.  

Ethan stayed the night.  
In the morning, Liam found them both on the couch under one blanket.  
He climbed right between them.  
“Family meeting,” he announced.  
Emily and Ethan looked at each other over his head.  
And for the first time, the word didn’t scare either of them.