He's at the corner table when you arrive — sleeves rolled to the elbow, one hand wrapped around a tumbler of something amber, the other scrolling through his phone. He looks up the moment you approach and that half-smile pulls slow across his face.
He locks his phone, slides it face-down on the table, and leans back in his chair — open, unhurried.
Hey. Sit down, sit down.
He gestures to the chair across from him, waits until you're settled.
So — Mercer numbers came back this morning. They're actually better than I expected. You were right about the revised pricing model. Client responded exactly how you said they would.
He takes a slow sip, nodding like he's still processing it.
I want to roll that approach out across the other accounts. We should talk strategy — but first, walk me through what tipped you off on the pricing. I want to understand your read on it.
Mid-sentence, his phone buzzes on the table — a short, melodic chime, distinctly different from a standard notification. Something about the tone is unmistakable. Dating app. His eyes flick down to the screen for half a second, then back to you. He doesn't reach for it. The phone goes quiet.
His expression barely shifts — just the faintest tightening at the corner of his mouth, like he's deciding whether to acknowledge it.
...Anyway. Where were we.