Page 66 of Protected By My Best Friend's Brother

“That was quite a risk you took today.” Her expression is unreadable, her posture perfect even after the tense meeting. “Challenging established protocol, proposing an entirely new implementation approach, standing your ground against significant opposition.”

I brace myself for criticism. “I believe it’s the right approach.”

“As did the majority of the board.” A small smile touches her lips, surprising me. “James Walker once told me that the future of this company would depend on those brave enough to seebeyond conventional wisdom. I believe he’d be pleased to see his son standing with someone who embodies that quality.”

She gathers her leather portfolio, tucking it precisely under her arm. “The next week will be challenging. Mr. Garrett has allies on the board who won’t appreciate his departure. Brighton Analytics will almost certainly escalate their efforts to poach your technology and talent.”

“I know,” I acknowledge, appreciating her straightforward assessment.

“Good.” She nods once, decisive. “Then you should also know that I’ll be watching your progress with great interest. Not just in the technical implementation but in how you balance innovation with practical business considerations. That balance is what separates visionaries from dreamers.”

With that, she leaves me alone in the boardroom, her words settling around me like a challenge and an opportunity combined.

I turn back to my diagram, studying the colorful network of interconnections. If we can find the right balance between technical innovation and human wisdom, there’s so much potential and possibility.

But for the first time, I’m not just ready to spearhead changes in sustainable manufacturing. I’m excited to do it with someone who makes me brave enough to bet everything on what matters most.

First, though, I need to figure out how to integrate ten years of human innovation with cutting-edge analytics, proving that sometimes the craziest ideas are definitely what the future needs.

No pressure.

Just another day of changing the world with the man I love.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I gather my materials, a smile tugging at my lips despite the enormity of the task ahead. This week will be intense, challenging, and possibly career-defining. But as I step out of the boardroom, I feel something I’ve rarely experienced in corporate settings—the absolute certainty that I’m exactly where I belong, doing precisely what I’m meant to do.

With absolutely the right partner by my side.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lucas

Three days into Emma’s innovative approach, I’m standing in the Johnsons’ manufacturing plant, wearing steel-toed boots and a hard hat, covered in machine grease, watching my girlfriend revolutionize sustainable manufacturing while somehow making safety gear look adorable.

The floor of the plant thrums with energy—massive presses hissing and clanking in rhythmic patterns, forklifts beeping as they navigate narrow aisles, workers calling to each other over the industrial symphony. The air carries the distinct scent of hot metal, machine oil, and an indefinable electricity of things being made. It’s a world away from my corporate office with its hushed conversations and climate-controlled perfection.

And I’m loving every minute of it.

“See this sequence here?” Emma points to a worn panel of buttons, her hard hat slightly crooked in that way that always makes me want to straighten it. Smudges of grease mark her safety vest, and her corporate analyst persona has been replaced by something more authentic, more vibrant. “Stan’s been running this press for twenty years. He’s developed this whole rhythm that’s not in any manual but increases efficiency by 30%. Watch.”

Stan, a weathered man with forearms like tree trunks, demonstrates a complex series of adjustments—a slight twist of one dial followed by a precise three-second press of a green button, then a quick tap sequence that seems almost musical in its execution.

“If we tried to automate this completely,” Emma explains, her eyes bright with excitement, “we’d lose all the subtle calibrations he’s perfected. But if we build that pattern recognition right into the new interface...” She sketches quickly on her tablet, modifying the design we’ve been developing. “We preserve his expertise while making it accessible to less experienced operators.”

I lean closer, ostensibly to study the panel but just to marvel at her in her element. She’s been radiant all week, bringing her unique blend of technical brilliance and genuine care for people to every aspect of the project. Even my ruined suits can’t dampen my mood when she’s like this—all bright eyes and groundbreaking ideas.

“Mr. Walker?” My assistant’s voice crackles through my phone, barely audible over the rhythmic pounding of the production line. “The board’s waiting for your daily update.”

Right. Running a company doesn’t stop just because I’m living my best life watching my genius girlfriend prove everyone wrong about everything. The daily check-ins were part of the board’s conditions for approving Emma’s unconventional approach—away to monitor progress and ensure we weren’t just “playing mechanic,” as Garrett had so dismissively put it before his dramatic exit.

“Go,” Emma says, rising on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “I’ve got this covered. Stan and I are going to map his entire sequence for the integration team.” She grins, wiping at a grease smudge on my face with her thumb. “Though... you might want to clean up first. Can’t have the board thinking their CEO actually works for a living.”

“Pretty sure they’ve given up on me being conventional.” I catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Especially since I started dating the brilliant analyst who makes me crawl under machinery to understand sustainability metrics in the coolant recycling system.”

“That was one time!” Her indignation is adorable.

“Three times this week alone. But who’s counting?”

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