PART 5:

It is when you don’t have enough of it. The three dots pulsed for a long time. Fair point, Selena finally sent. But it’s not the only thing that defines a person. Maybe not. But it defines what’s possible. Does it? Adrian set the phone down and rubbed his face. He was so tired, tired of being careful, tired of being practical, tired of living in a world where wanting something beautiful meant risking everything that mattered.

His phone buzzed again. I’m not trying to make your life harder, Selena wrote. I just I don’t meet a lot of people who tell me the truth. And when I do, I don’t want to let them disappear. I’m not disappearing. I’m just trying to keep my life from falling apart. Is talking to me going to make it fall apart? Adrian stared at that question for a long time.

I don’t know, he typed honestly. Maybe. Then I’ll stop. I didn’t say stop. What are you saying? Adrian looked down the hallway toward Emma’s room. The door was cracked open. He could hear her breathing, soft and even. I’m saying I don’t know what I’m doing, he typed. I’m saying you scare me.

I’m saying I have a daughter who depends on me not screwing up, and I’m saying that despite all of that, I can’t stop thinking about you. He hit send before he could second-guess it. The three dots appeared immediately. I can’t stop thinking about you, either, Selena sent, and that terrifies me. Why? Because I’ve spent 10 years building walls to keep people out, and you walked right through them without even trying.

Adrian’s chest felt tight. What do we do about that? he typed. The response took longer this time. I don’t know, Selena wrote. But I don’t think pretending it didn’t happen is going to work. Probably not. So, what do we do? Adrian set the phone down and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He was standing at the edge of something he didn’t understand, something that felt like vertigo and possibility in equal measure.

His phone buzzed one more time. Coffee? Selena had written. Tomorrow. Somewhere away from the office. Just coffee. As people, not as CEO and maintenance tech. Every rational part of Adrian’s brain screamed that this was a mistake. He typed, What time? The coffee shop Selena chose was 20 miles outside the city, tucked into a neighborhood Adrian had never been to, the kind of place where the houses had actual yards and the cars in the driveways were less than 5 years old.

The shop itself was called Ember & Ground, all exposed brick and Edison bulbs and the faint smell of something expensive being roasted in the back. Adrian felt out of place the moment he walked in. He was wearing the nicest thing he owned that wasn’t his work uniform, a flannel shirt he’d ironed that morning and jeans without holes. His truck looked like a rust bucket parked between a Tesla and a BMW.

He’d almost turned around three times on the drive over. Selena was already there, sitting at a corner table near the window. She wasn’t wearing a power suit. Instead, she had on dark jeans and a cream sweater that made her look younger, softer. Her hair was down, no makeup that he could see, though he didn’t know enough about makeup to be sure.

She looked up when the door chimed and something in her expression shifted. Relief, maybe. Like she’d been worried he wouldn’t show. Adrian walked over, throat tight. Hi, he said. Hi. Selena gestured to the chair across from her. I didn’t know what you liked, so I didn’t order for you. Black coffee’s fine. That’s it? They have a whole menu.

I’m not really a latte guy. A small smile touched her mouth. Why doesn’t that surprise me? Adrian flagged down the barista and ordered a black coffee. Selena already had something in front of her, some kind of cappuccino with foam art on top. They sat in silence for a moment, the awkwardness settling between them like a third person at the table.

This is weird, Selena said finally. Yeah. I don’t normally do this. What? Coffee? Coffee with people I barely know. Coffee with employees. Coffee with a She trailed off, searching for the word. Maintenance guys? Adrian offered. Selena’s eyes flashed. That’s not what I was going to say. But it’s what you were thinking.

No, it’s what you’re thinking. She leaned forward slightly. You keep putting yourself in a box, Adrian. Like you’re not allowed to be more than your job title. That’s not a box. That’s just reality. Is it? Selena wrapped her hands around her cup. Because from where I’m sitting, you’re a single father who’s raising a kid on his own while working full-time.

You’re smart enough to diagnose electrical problems in under 5 minutes. And you’re honest enough to tell a CEO to her face that you’re attracted to her, even though it could cost you your job. That’s not just a maintenance guy. That’s someone worth knowing. Adrian’s coffee arrived. He took a sip to buy himself time. It was good.

Better than the convenience store stuff he usually drank. You don’t know anything about me, he said quietly. I know enough. And I want to know more. Why? Because you’re real. Selena said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Do you have any idea how rare that is in my life? I’m not some novelty, Selena. I’m not here to make you feel more grounded or give you some kind of working-class redemption arc.

That’s not what this is. Then what is it? She was quiet for a long moment, staring down at her cup. When she looked up, her eyes were serious. I’m 30 years old, she said. I’ve built a company worth billions. I have more money than I’ll ever be able to spend. I’ve been on magazine covers and keynote stages and in boardrooms where I’m the youngest person by 20 years.

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