Noah thought about the engineering floor. The way people talked around him, not to him. The way his ideas got absorbed into reports with other people’s names on them. Different scale, he said. But yeah, I think I do. Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly. What do you mean? He shouldn’t say it. She was his boss’s boss’s boss.
Complaining would be professional suicide. But something about this whole surreal situation made him reckless. I’ve been at Hail Industries for 4 years, Noah said. I’ve submitted 14 proposals for efficiency improvements, process optimizations, cost-saving measures. Most of them would actually work. Some would save millions.
and and I’ve watched every single one get absorbed by my supervisor, repackaged, and presented as his own work. I get a generic good job email. He gets promotions. Victoria set down her whiskey glass very carefully. Who? Doesn’t matter. It matters to me. Does it? Or is that CEO instinct talking? Noah surprised himself with the edge in his voice.
Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk, but we both know how this works. I’m nobody. Some guy in engineering. You run the whole company. Different worlds. Is that what you think? It’s what I know. You’re here because someone convinced you to take a night off. I’m here because my best friend wouldn’t stop texting.
Tomorrow morning, you’ll go back to being Victoria Hail, billionaire CEO. I’ll go back to being employee number whatever. Trying to keep my daughter in clean clothes and food on the table. This he gestured at the table, the restaurant, the space between them. This doesn’t exist in real life. Victoria was quiet for a long moment.
When she spoke, her voice was softer. You’re wrong about one thing. What’s that? I’m not here because someone convinced me to take a night off. I’m here because 3 hours ago, I sat in my office and realized I couldn’t remember the last time I had a conversation with someone who wasn’t trying to get something from me. Couldn’t remember the last time someone saw me as a person instead of a position.
She met his eyes. And when my assistant suggested this, I thought maybe, just maybe, for one night, I could be Victoria, not the CEO, not the billionaire, just a woman having dinner. Noah felt something in his chest twist. How’s that working out? Well, I cried in public and told a complete stranger, I’m lonely, so I’d say it’s going great.
Despite everything, Noah smiled. You want to know something? What? I almost didn’t come. I was going to text Marcus in bail. Tell him I had a work emergency or Emma was sick. Some excuse. What changed your mind? My daughter. She told me I never do anything fun. He shook his head.
6 years old and already worried about me. Victoria’s expression softened. She sounds wise. She shouldn’t have to be. No, she shouldn’t. Victoria paused. But neither should you. The waiter returned to take their orders. Noah let Victoria order first, some pasta dish he’d never heard of, and then chose the cheapest entree he could find. When the waiter left, Victoria was watching him. You don’t have to do that.
Do what? Worry about the cost. This dinner is on me. I can’t let you, Noah. She said his name like she was diffusing a bomb. Careful, deliberate. Please let me do this one normal thing. Let me buy dinner for someone who isn’t trying to network or pitch me or get something. Let me just buy dinner. He wanted to argue. Pride demanded it.
But he also knew his checking account balance. Knew what this meal would cost. Knew that saying yes meant Emma could get those new pajamas she needed. Okay, he said quietly. Thank you. Thank you for staying, for being honest. She picked up her whiskey again. Tell me about your daughter. So he did. He told her about Emma’s obsession with dinosaurs, about how she’d memorized every species and could pronounce names he still struggled with.
He told her about the ongoing battle over vegetables, about how she negotiated bedtime like a lawyer. He told her about the time she’d saved her allowance for 3 months to buy him a Father’s Day present, a mug that said, “World’s okay dad.” Because she thought it was funny. And Victoria listened. Really listened. Not the polite nodding of someone waiting for their turn to talk.
She asked questions, laughed at the right moments. Her eyes lost some of that hollow look. She sounds incredible, Victoria said. She is. She’s the only thing I’ve ever done right. I doubt that’s true. You don’t know me. No, but I know single parents don’t raise incredible children by accident. The food arrived.
They ate and talked and the conversation drifted from Emma to Sarah, from loss to loneliness. Victoria told him about her father, about the pressure to prove herself after taking over the company at 25, about board members who still treated her like a child playing dressup, about the loneliness of success. Everyone assumes having money solves everything, she said. And it solves a lot.
I won’t pretend it doesn’t, but it doesn’t solve being alone at the top. It doesn’t solve wondering if anyone would care about you if you lost it all. People would care, Noah said. Would they? Or would they care about what I represent, what I can do for them? She pushed her pasta around her plate.
