Tell me something, Victoria said. Something real, not work stuff. Not the polite getting to know you surface things. Something that matters, Noah thought for a moment. I’m scared I’m failing, Emma. that I’m so focused on just surviving, keeping food on the table, keeping the lights on, that I’m missing the important stuff.
Her childhood is happening right now and I’m too tired to appreciate it. And one day she’s going to be grown and I’m going to realize I was there, but I wasn’t there. You know, Victoria’s expression softened. You’re there. Trust me, the fact that you worry about it means you’re there. How do you know? Because my father was never there.
He was in the same house, same room sometimes, but he was never actually present. Always thinking about the business, always planning the next move. I learned early that I had to be exceptional to get his attention. Had to prove I was worth noticing. She paused. You know what he said when I told him I wanted to take over the company? He laughed.
Said I was too soft, too emotional, that business required ruthlessness I didn’t have. He was wrong, was he? Some days I’m not sure. I proved I could be ruthless, built the company into something he never imagined. But I also became exactly what he said I’d need to be. Hard, isolated, successful, and alone. She traced the rim of her coffee cup.
Your daughter won’t remember if you had money. She’ll remember if you were present, if you loved her, and from everything you’ve told me, she knows you do. I hope so. Now, you ask me something real. Noah didn’t hesitate. Why did you agree to that blind date? The real reason? Victoria was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
Because two weeks ago, I had a panic attack in my office. Full-on couldn’t breathe. Thought I was dying kind of attack. My assistant found me on the floor. She looked up at him. The doctor said it was stress, overwork. He prescribed medication and recommended therapy, but I knew what it really was. loneliness, the kind that builds up so slowly you don’t notice until it’s crushing you.
And I realized I could have died right there in my office. And the first people to find me would be employees. Not friends, not family, just people on my payroll. I’m sorry. Don’t be. It was a wakeup call. My assistant suggested the date, said I needed to connect with someone who didn’t know me as the CEO, who wouldn’t want something from me.
And I thought, what’s the worst that could happen? One awkward dinner and I never have to do it again. She smiled sadly. I didn’t expect you. What’s that mean? I didn’t expect someone who understood, who looked at me crying in public and didn’t run, who stayed and was honest and made me feel like maybe I wasn’t completely broken.
Noah reached across the table, hesitated, then took her hand. She didn’t pull away. You’re not broken, he said. You’re just tired of being what everyone needs you to be. Aren’t we all? They sat like that for a while, hands linked across the table, drinking each other’s coffee. People came and went around them. Outside, the city woke up fully.
Rush hour traffic, hurried pedestrians, the mechanical rhythm of normal life. I have to tell you something, Noah said finally, about work. Victoria’s expression shifted slightly. Okay. Monday night, I mentioned my ideas getting stolen. It’s been happening for 4 years. My supervisor, Richard Castellano, he’s built his entire reputation on work that isn’t his.
Not just mine, other people, too. He finds whoever is too junior or too scared to make waves, takes their ideas, repackages them, presents them to upper management. Why haven’t you reported it? To who? Richard’s the one who handles our division’s communications with senior management, and he’s good at covering his tracks. Makes small enough changes that it’s hard to prove theft.
Plus, he’s been there 15 years. I’ve been there before. Who’s HR going to believe? Victoria’s jaw tightened. This is my company. If someone’s stealing work, that’s I’m not telling you this to get him in trouble. I’m telling you because if we’re doing this, whatever this is, you need to know. I’m not just some guy from engineering.
I’m the guy whose boss is probably going to notice he had dinner with the CEO and start asking questions. I’m the guy who might become a target if Richard thinks I’m trying to go over his head. Then quit. Come work somewhere else. Noah laughed without humor. Where? You think another engineering firm is going to pay better, offer better benefits? I’ve looked.
Hail Industries is the best option I’ve got. Which means I’m stuck with Richard and his theft and staying quiet because I can’t afford to lose this job. That’s not right. No, but it’s real. He squeezed her hand. I need you to understand. I’m not looking for you to fix my problems. I’m not trying to use this us to get ahead, but I also can’t pretend the power dynamic doesn’t exist.
You could make one phone call and destroy my career. I need to know you understand how unequal this is. Victoria pulled her hand back and Noah felt his stomach drop. But she didn’t stand up, didn’t leave. Instead, she leaned forward, elbows on the table. You’re right. It is unequal. And maybe that means we shouldn’t do this. Maybe that’s the smart, responsible choice.
