At 1:45 PM, Ava walked back into the Cross Industries building with a signed contract that shouldn't have existed and fifteen minutes to spare before the Nakamura meeting.
Her hands were steady as she rode the elevator to the fifty-seventh floor, but her heart was hammering against her ribs. She'd done it - actually done it. Found a solution that a team of lawyers and project managers had declared impossible.
Sarah looked up as she approached Damon's office. "Please tell me you have good news."
"I have news," Ava said, not trusting herself to promise more than that.
She knocked on Damon's door and entered without waiting for permission. He was standing at his windows again, hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the city he'd conquered through sheer force of will.
"Sixty acres on the south side," she said without preamble. "Former industrial site, environmental cleanup already completed, zoning approved for industrial construction. Permits can be fast-tracked because the environmental impact assessment was done during the cleanup process three years ago."
He turned slowly, those steel-gray eyes searching her face. "And?"
"And I bought it." She placed the signed contract on his desk with hands that didn't shake. "Purchase agreement executed thirty minutes ago. Meridian Holdings LLC to Cross Industries, fair market value, closing in twenty-four hours."
Damon stared at the contract like it might disappear if he looked away. "How?"
"The property was owned by Bobby Chen. Former Cross Industries employee with a grudge against you but no grudge against me." Ava allowed herself a small smile. "Turns out sometimes the best way to get what you want is to ask the right person in the right way."
For a moment, something that might have been amazement flickered across Damon's features. Then his usual controlled mask slipped back into place.
"The Nakamura team will be here in ten minutes."
"They'll have a site to visit."
"This is exceptional work, Mr. Carter."
The praise hit her like a physical force. When was the last time someone had called her work exceptional? When was the last time she'd felt this capable, this valued?
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't let it go to your head. This was one crisis. There will be others."
"I'll be ready for them."
He studied her for a long moment. "I believe you will be."
The Nakamura meeting was a triumph. Hiroshi Nakamura and his team toured the new site, pronounced it superior to the original location, and signed the construction agreement before they left Chicago. Sixty million dollars secured, hundreds of jobs saved, Cross Industries' reputation intact.
By 6 PM, word had spread through the building. The impossible had been accomplished by the new assistant who'd been on the job for exactly two days.
"Drinks tonight?" Marcus Reid appeared at Ava's desk as she was packing up. His smile was friendly, but his eyes were calculating. "The whole team's celebrating. You're the hero of the hour."
"Thank you, but I should get home."
"Come on, Evan. You just saved the company. That deserves a proper celebration."
Something in his tone made her wary. Marcus Reid didn't strike her as the type to celebrate other people's successes unless there was something in it for him.
"Another time, maybe."
"Your loss." His smile sharpened. "Though I have to say, you handled today remarkably well for someone so... new to this environment."
The pause before 'new' felt loaded with meaning she didn't want to examine.
"Goodnight, Mr. Reid."
She left the building with the uncomfortable feeling that she'd just been studied by a predator who'd found something interesting.
*****
"You look different."
Talia's words hit Ava the moment she walked through their apartment door, still buzzing from the day's impossible victory. The adrenaline that had carried her through eight hours of crisis management evaporated instantly.
"Different how?" Ava loosened Evan's tie, trying to shake off the masculine posture that had become second nature.
"I don't know. Taller? More confident?" Talia set down her stack of student papers, studying Ava with the intensity she usually reserved for parent-teacher conferences. "You're walking differently. Even your voice sounds different."
Ava kicked off the dress shoes that had been pinching her feet all day. "It's just the suit. Makes me feel more professional."
"Is that what we're calling it?" Talia followed her to the kitchen, where Ava was already reaching for the coffee maker - a masculine gesture, she realized with a start. When had she stopped making tea?
"I saved the company today," Ava said, the pride in her voice unmistakable. "Sixty million dollar deal that everyone else had given up on. I found a solution in less than eight hours that should have taken months."
"I'm proud of you," Talia said softly. "I'm always proud of you. But I'm also scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Scared that you're falling in love with being someone else." Talia sat heavily on their secondhand couch. "Scared that Evan is getting all the recognition and success that Ava never got, and you're starting to prefer him."
The observation cut deep because it carried a grain of truth Ava wasn't ready to examine. As Evan, she was competent, valued, respected. As Ava, she'd been unemployed and desperate.
"This is temporary," she said finally. "Just until we get back on our feet."
"Is it? Because yesterday you practiced your masculine walk in the grocery store. Not because you had to - because it felt natural." Talia's voice carried a worry that made Ava's stomach clench. "And you've been home for twenty minutes and you haven't dropped the act once. You're still him."
"I'm tired, Tal. It was a long day."
"Every day is a long day now. And every day you come home a little less like yourself." Talia's eyes filled with tears. "When's the last time you laughed at one of my terrible teacher jokes? When's the last time you curled up on the couch with a book? When's the last time you just... existed without performing?"
The questions hit like accusations because Ava couldn't remember the answers. Everything had become about maintaining the Evan persona, about not slipping up, about proving she belonged in that glass tower of corporate power.
"Maybe this person is who I was supposed to be all along," she said quietly.
The words slipped out before she could stop them, and the silence that followed was deafening.
"Oh, honey." Talia's voice broke. "Do you hear yourself?"
Ava sank onto the couch beside her friend, the weight of the day finally hitting her. "I don't know anymore, Tal. I don't know who I am or who I'm supposed to be. All I know is that for the first time in my life, I feel like I matter."
"You've always mattered. Just because the world was too stupid to see your worth doesn't mean it wasn't there."
"But it does mean I was invisible. And Evan... Evan isn't invisible."
Talia took her hands, studying the face she'd known for years but was starting not to recognize. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me that no matter how successful Evan becomes, you won't forget that Ava is the one I fell in love with. Ava is the one who held me when my grandmother died. Ava is the one who stayed up all night helping me grade papers. Evan might be impressive, but Ava is irreplaceable."
Ava felt tears prick at her eyes. "I promise."
"And promise me that if this gets too dangerous - if you start losing yourself or if someone gets suspicious - you'll walk away. No job is worth losing who you are."
"Talia-"
"Promise me."
Ava looked into her best friend's worried brown eyes and saw the fear there - not just fear of discovery, but fear of losing her entirely.
"I promise," she whispered.
But even as the words left her lips, she wondered if it was a promise she'd be able to keep. Because the truth was, she wasn't entirely sure where Ava ended and Evan began anymore.
Later that night, after Talia had gone to bed, Ava stood in their tiny bathroom in her pajamas, studying her reflection without the armor of Evan's suit. She looked young, uncertain, small.
"Who are you?" she whispered to the girl in the mirror.
But the girl in the mirror didn't answer, and Ava was beginning to suspect that was because she didn't know either.