The light in the showroom was soft but deliberate, designed to highlight the grains and curves of every piece. Autumn's heels clicked softly on the polished hardwood floor as she entered, her notebook clutched tightly in one hand.
Sam stood by a sleek dining table, casually resting one hand on the carved wood, sleeves rolled to the elbows revealing strong forearms. His gaze lifted as she approached calm, assessing, like a craftsman inspecting a raw slab of wood.
"So, you're the accountant keeping me honest," he said, a teasing edge in his voice.
Autumn's lips twitched into a tight smile. "Only trying to make sure you're not hiding any skeletons."
He chuckled, the sound low and genuine. "I promise, just wood and nails here."
She studied him carefully. The man behind the empire was different from the stories she'd heard less polished, more real. Yet, there was something guarded in his eyes, a quiet strength that made her uneasy and curious all at once.
Their conversation quickly shifted to the costs, projections, inventories. She laid out concerns with clinical precision; he responded with stories about his craftsmen, each piece a labor of love.
"I don't understand how you keep track of all this without losing the soul of your company," Autumn said, genuinely intrigued despite herself.
Sam smiled wistfully. "It's a balancing act like all things worth doing. You must respect the structure without suffocating the spirit."
For a moment, they were no longer accountant and CEO, but two people trying to protect something precious in their own way.