Part 6:
I needed something with flexible hours so I could take her to appointments. Something that let me be home with Emma when Sarah couldn’t be. Maintenance work gave me that. And after after Sarah Clara couldn’t quite finish the sentence. After Sarah died, I thought about going back to engineering, but Emma needed stability, needed routine, and honestly.
Ryan looked at Clara, his expression open and honest in a way that made her chest ache. I’d forgotten what it felt like to fix something with my own hands. To see a problem and solve it directly right there. No bureaucracy or committees or endless meetings. There’s something satisfying about that. Simple. Clara thought about her own days.
The endless parade of decisions that never quite felt finished. Problems that spawn three more problems. Solutions that required compromise and negotiation and always always left someone disappointed. That sounds nice, she said quietly. It is most days. Ryan stood, brushing dust off his pants. Your vents are balanced fine, too, Miss Hail.
Honestly, your whole office is running perfectly. If you’re feeling cold, might just need a sweater. Their eyes met, and Clara saw the gentle humor there, the unspoken acknowledgement that they both knew this wasn’t about thermostats or airflow. She should let him leave. Should thank him for his time and return to her spreadsheets and let this strange unexpected connection fade back into the appropriate distance between CEO and maintenance worker.
Instead, she heard herself say, “I watched you yesterday after I left. I pulled up the security footage.” Ryan’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn’t look uncomfortable, just curious. Why? I wanted to see. Clara struggled for words. I wanted to see if you looked different when you thought no one important was watching. And did I? No.
You looked exactly the same. You treated Jake the same way you treated me. With respect, with patience, like everyone deserved your full attention, whether they were stuck in an elevator or just asking where you kept the spare light bulbs. Ryan set his toolbox down slowly. M.
Hail, can I ask you something? Clara, please. When it’s just us, call me Clara. Something shifted in his expression. Surprise, maybe, or recognition. Clara, why am I really here? Your thermostat’s fine. Your vents are fine. Your whole office is running like a Swiss watch. Clara stood, moving around her desk, eliminating the barrier between them.
She was still in her heels, which made her nearly as tall as he was. I wanted to see you again, she admitted. I wanted to hear your voice when it wasn’t filtered through an intercom. I wanted, she stopped, unsure how to finish that sentence. Wanted what? Ryan’s voice was gentle, encouraging. I don’t know, Clara said honestly.
I’ve spent my entire adult life knowing exactly what I wanted. Market share, profit margins, competitive advantage. But yesterday, for 22 minutes, I wanted something completely different. I wanted someone to stay with me, to talk to me like I was human. And you did that. And now I can’t stop thinking about She broke off as her office door opened without warning.
Her assistant, looking apologetic, stuck her head in. Ms. Hail, I’m so sorry, but the board meeting was moved up. They’re waiting for you in conference room A. Clara closed her eyes briefly. Of course, of course. reality would intrude right now. Tell them I’ll be there in 5 minutes. They said it’s urgent.
5 minutes, Clare repeated, her CEO voice sliding back into place like armor. Her assistant disappeared and Clara turned back to Ryan, trying to find the words that had been right there a moment ago. But the spell was broken. The moment shattered. “You should go,” Ryan said, saving her from having to say it. He picked up his toolbox. Board meetings wait for no one.
Ryan, it’s okay, Clara. He smiled and it was kind and understanding, and somehow that made it worse. You’ve got your world. I’ve got mine. Yesterday was it was what it was, an intersection. But we both need to get back to our normal lives. He was right. Clara knew he was right. But watching him walk toward the door felt like losing something she’d only just discovered existed.
“Ryan,” she called out just as his hand reached the doororknob. He turned back. What time do you pick up Emma from school? The question surprised them both. Ryan tilted his head slightly, studying her. 3:30. Why? I just wondered if she ever needed those lucky socks again and you couldn’t find them. If you’d Clara faltered, realizing how insane she sounded. Never mind.
That was I should go to my meeting. But Ryan was smiling now. A real smile that reached his eyes and transformed his face. If we ever have a lucky sock emergency again, I’ll let you know. Then he was gone and Clara was left standing in her perfectly temperature controlled office wondering what the hell she was doing.
The board meeting lasted 3 hours. Clara moved through it mechanically, approving budgets and rejecting proposals and saying all the right things while her mind replayed that conversation in her office on an endless loop. When it finally ended, she returned to her desk to find a sticky note attached to her computer monitor.
