Page 46 of One Month's Notice

“It’s complicated.” Michael’s posture shifted. He was closing himself off and retreating behind his professional façade. “The board has a point—we have to consider the financial implications.”

“But that’s just it.” Nat wasn’t quite ready to let go. “It feels like you’re being railroaded into something you don’t want. Since when did you start compromising your values for profit?”

He stiffened at her words. A flicker of vulnerability crossed his features before he smoothed it away. “I have a responsibility to this company and its shareholders. It’s not just about what I want.”

“But still.” Nat sensed she needed to tread carefully. “If you have concerns about the ethical side of things, shouldn’t you voice them? You’re not just any board member, Michael. You lead this company. You set the direction.”

He looked at her for a moment. Then, with a reluctant exhale, he nodded, his admission quiet but laden with significance.

“I do have concerns.” The armour of his professionalism had finally cracked. “But questioning the consensus isn’t simple. There’s a lot at stake.”

“Isn’t there always?” Nat offered a supportive smile. “Standing up for what’s right is rarely easy.”

She watched as Michael’s fingers drummed against the surface of the table. He looked up at her as a deep sigh escaped his lips.

“I’m not blind to the implications. But you have to understand—the board is breathing down my neck for growth. They don’t care about the how, just the end numbers.”

“But you do.” Nat leant forward. “You care. Or am I wrong? Has the Michael I have got to know, who puts integrity before profit, changed?”

“Of course I haven’t changed.” A flare of frustration broke through his composure. “But sometimes we don’t have the luxury of choosing. The board is convinced that this is the best move for rapid expansion. And they’re not wrong about the potential financial upside.”

“Potential at the expense of principles?” Nat could feel herself getting agitated. “Come on. You don’t seem like someone that follows the crowd. Lead them instead. Show them there’s a better way.”

“It’s easy for you to say.” Michael stood up, towering over her, the lines of stress etched into his face. “But you don’t have to answer to a room full of sharks waiting to attack at the first sign of weakness.”

“Maybe not.” The challenge to unsettle her only hardened her resolve. “But if they smell blood in the water, wouldn’t you rather it be because you fought for something you believe in, than because you let yourself be devoured without so much as a whimper?”

He responded with a heavy sigh and turned away from her, walking towards the window to look out at the cityscape. For a long moment, neither spoke.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” He finally broke the silence, his voice low. “But pushing this means risking everything I’ve built if the board loses faith in me.”

“Isn’t the company already at risk if you compromise on the values that built it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it any more.” Michael’s expression was closed off, resolute. He turned his back to her. “I need to handle this my way.”

Nat felt his words like a physical blow. She had pushed too far.

“I… I’m sorry.” She stumbled over her words, the colour rising in her cheeks as regret flooded her body. “I shouldn’t have got involved… Just forget I said anything, OK? It’s none of my business.”

Michael didn’t respond. He shifted his attention to the laptop and quickly became engrossed in what was on the screen. Nat let out a long breath and tapped the keyboard to log back into her own computer, trying to focus on her work. An uncomfortable tension hung between them for the rest of the afternoon.

By five p.m., Nat’s shoulders were aching from sitting still for so long. She had barely moved for hours, not wanting to distract Michael from his work. He’d made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for light-hearted conversation and the weight of the decision ahead was clearly playing on his mind. After such a positive start this morning, she knew she needed to do something to turn things around. She didn’t want to leave with such an awkward atmosphere between them.

“Hey.” She emphasised a brightness to her voice. “It’s getting late. How about we call it a day? I bought my swimming costume as I fancied a swim. Why don’t you join me to unwind? It’s been a bit of a heavy day, hasn’t it?” She offered a wide smile as a peace offering.

Michael looked up and studied Nat’s face for a moment. “Sure.” His posture relaxed slightly, some of the earlier tension dissipating. “A swim sounds good.”

Nat smiled and nodded, grateful she had taken the chance to salvage the remains of the day.

Her fingers trembled as she hooked the clasp of her bikini top. She took slow breaths to calm her nerves a little. She was now regretting the offer of Michael joining her for a swim at the realisation he would soon be seeing her semi-naked. The changing room, with its pungent scent of chlorine and humid air, felt claustrophobic. She pulled the bikini bottoms up over her hips, wishing she felt as bold as the pattern of tropical flowers decorating the fabric. She wrapped a towel firmly around her waist, clutching at the material to hide her insecurities. Her eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the apprehension etched across her features.

“You’re a grown woman, Nat. It’s just a swimming pool, not a bloody catwalk,” she told her reflection.

Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, she pushed open the door to the pool area. The expanse of blue water stretched out before her, glistening under the bright overhead lights. There, poised at the deep end like a sculpture chiselled from marble, stood Michael. His black swimming shorts clung to his frame, hinting at the strength coiled in his muscled thighs. They underlined a subtle ripple of abs usually concealed beneath impeccably tailored suits. Nat found herself entranced by the contrast of his tanned skin against the dark fabric. His floppy hair now lay plastered to his head, droplets of water catching the light as they rolled off his shoulders.

Michael looked up. A flash of blue as bright as the water below met her hesitant features. He offered a nod, acknowledging her presence, before cutting through the air in a smooth arc to dive into the water. Nat was captivated as he reappeared, powering forward with a fast, efficient front crawl, each stroke slicing through the calm surface. Her own worries were momentarily forgotten as she admired the play of muscles along his back, the ease with which he guided his body through the water.

But as she watched him, that old, gnawing doubt crept back, whispering reminders of her shortcomings. She thought of all the ways she didn’t measure up—not as an interior designer, not in her personal life, and certainly not standing here on the edge of a pool, too self-conscious to shed her towel and join him in the water.

---