“Yes,” I replied. “Keller’s one of our clients. My team oversees their packaging and logistics integration. So technically, I suppose your company and mine already know each other. You just didn’t know my name was on the invoices.”
Eleanor’s cup clinked softly against its saucer.
“I—I’m sorry,” she said, forcing a small laugh. “I must be missing something. You mean you own the company? As in…”
“As in yes,” I replied. “I founded all three: Donovan Studio, UX Lab, and Fulfillment & Packaging. They operate under the Donovan Group.”
Daniel still hadn’t moved.
“Claire, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I turned to him finally. “Because I wanted to know if I mattered without it.”
Eleanor looked from me to Richard, then back again, her expression unraveling—composure fading into discomfort.
“That’s quite the surprise,” she said, her voice trembling faintly under the weight of what she was trying to hold together.
Richard, still stunned, cleared his throat.
“You’re the Donovan who negotiated the West Coast expansion.”
“Yes.”