Partners in Crime
Monday morning came faster than Daniel expected. The CrossLogix office smelled faintly of coffee and cardboard—a combination that had become comfortingly familiar. Elizabeth was already there, laptop open, scanning sales reports and customer inquiries like a hawk.
"Good morning, Mr. Cross," she said without looking up. "Your website's performance is improving, but your social media strategy is a disaster. We need posts that actually engage people, not just your lunch menu."
Daniel chuckled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Noted. And thanks for saving me from myself again."
She looked up, one eyebrow raised. "I do it because I care. Or because I'm secretly addicted to chaos. Take your pick."
They worked side by side for hours—Daniel handling logistics, scheduling deliveries, and tracking inventory, while Elizabeth crafted ad campaigns, refined copy, and optimized the website. She had a way of explaining complex marketing concepts that made Daniel's head nod along, even if he didn't fully understand every term.
"See," She said, pointing at a chart of clicks and conversions, "this post is performing three times better than last week. People respond to stories, not bullet points. You're selling experience, not just deliveries."
Daniel leaned back, rubbing his temples. "Experience, huh? I'm more comfortable selling packages than feelings."
Elizabeth laughed. "Then let me do the feelings. You keep doing the packages."
By mid-afternoon, Daniel realized he wasn't just impressed with her skills—he was drawn to her. There was a confidence in her movements, a spark in her eyes when she solved a problem, a warmth in the way she spoke to his son on the phone when he had to step out for deliveries.
And yet, as their collaboration deepened, a subtle tension loomed.
Earlier that morning, Daniel had received a curt email from his lawyer: Rebecca had made an inquiry into his finances. No threats yet, only questions, vague requests for "records" and "proof of stability."
He hadn't mentioned it to Elizabeth . Not yet. He didn't want to dampen the fragile momentum they were building.
But as he watched her adjust a campaign that would increase CrossLogix's reach by a measurable margin, he realized he needed more than her marketing genius. He needed her insight, her judgment… maybe even her presence to anchor him.
Elizabeth noticed his distraction. "Something on your mind?" she asked.
Daniel hesitated. "It's… personal. Nothing to do with work."
She tilted her head, studying him. "I'll bite. Personal problems tend to spill over into business. You might as well tell me now, or they'll wreck your empire later."
He chuckled, a little self-consciously. "I suppose you're right. It's my ex-wife. She's… poking around. Just making sure I don't get too comfortable, I guess."
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, thoughtful. "Then you'll need more than good marketing. You'll need strategy—like I said before, stories, experience, control of perception. And you need allies who actually care about you and the boys. Not just numbers on a page."
Daniel met her gaze. Something about the calm certainty in her voice, the lack of judgment, gave him a sense of stability he hadn't felt in years.
"Good," he said quietly. "Because I think I'm going to need an ally."
She smiled. "Lucky for you, that's what I do best."
⸻
By the end of the day, CrossLogix had grown in ways Daniel hadn't imagined: deliveries ran smoother, vendors were happier, and new customers were already signing up. But outside the office, shadows lingered—Rebecca's questions, her quiet scheming, and the knowledge that Daniel's fight wasn't just about building a business anymore.
It was about protecting everything he had left.
And for the first time, he felt he wasn't facing that fight alone.