She paused. But I don’t want to make the smart choice. I want to be selfish. I want to keep having coffee with you and talking about real things and feeling like a person instead of a position. Is that wrong? Probably. Do you want to stop? No. Then we figure it out together. She glanced at her watch and winced. I have to go.
Board meeting in 40 minutes. back to being the CEO. Something like that. She stood, gathered her things. Same time tomorrow. I’ll be here. Victoria started to leave, then turned back. Noah, what you said about your ideas being stolen. Document everything. Emails, timestamps, original drafts.
Keep copy somewhere safe, not on the company server. Why? Because if you ever decide you want to do something about it, you’ll need proof. and because I believe you. I just can’t act on belief alone.” She left before he could respond.” Noah sat there for another 10 minutes drinking her too sweet coffee, trying to process what had just happened. His phone buzzed. Marcus.
Well, it was good. That’s it. Just good. Marcus, I’m sitting in a coffee shop at 8:00 in the morning trying to figure out if I’m making the best decision of my life or the worst mistake. Can I call you later? That good, huh? Shut up. He hung up and headed to work, mind spinning.
The morning passed in a blur of sead drawings and material specifications. Around 11:00, Richard stopped by his desk. Carter, my office now. Noah’s stomach tightened. Richard’s office was small, cramped, filled with plaques and awards for projects other people had actually engineered. Richard himself was 50some, balding with the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. Close the door, Richard said.
Noah did. I heard an interesting rumor this morning. Richard leaned back in his chair. Someone said they saw you having coffee with Victoria Hail, our CEO, Victoria Hail. Can you imagine? I can imagine. Richard’s smile froze. So, it’s true. I had coffee with someone. Didn’t realize I needed permission. Don’t be smart. You know exactly what I’m asking.
How do you know Victoria Hail? Noah met his eyes. We met through a mutual friend. Had dinner, had coffee. That’s it. That’s it. Richard laughed, but it sounded nervous. You expect me to believe the CEO of this company is having casual coffee dates with a junior engineer. Believe whatever you want. This is inappropriate.
Potentially a conflict of interest. I should report this to HR. Go ahead, Noah said, surprising himself with how calm he sounded. Report that two single adults had coffee. See what HR says. Richard’s expression darkened. You think you’re clever? Think you found a shortcut to the top? Let me tell you something, Carter.
People like you don’t end up with people like her. You’re a single dad barely keeping his head above water. She’s a billionaire who could buy and sell you a thousand times over. Whatever game you think you’re playing, it’s going to end badly. Are we done? No. You’ve got three project proposals on your queue.
I want them completed by end of day Friday. That’s 40 hours of work. It’s Thursday. Then I suggest you skip lunch. And Carter, stay away from Victoria Hail. For your own good. Noah walked back to his desk feeling shaky. The threat was clear. Richard was scared, which meant he was dangerous. But underneath the fear was something else. anger.
Four years of watching his work get stolen. Four years of staying quiet, four years of being treated like he was disposable. He opened his laptop and started a new folder. Labeled it personal projects. Then he began systematically copying every email, every original draft, every timestamp that proved his ideas had been his own. It took 3 hours.
By the time he finished, he had a file that would bury Richard Castellano if anyone ever actually looked at it. He uploaded everything to a personal cloud account, then deleted the local copies, covered his tracks. His phone buzzed. Victoria, how was your day? Noah glanced around the engineering floor at Richard’s office with its closed door at the co-workers who never quite looked him in the eye. Complicated.
Yours? Long board meetings or torture? 3 hours of old men explaining my own company to me. Sounds fun. Coffee tomorrow? Same time. Noah thought about Richard’s warning, about the smart, safe choice, about all the reasons this was a terrible idea. Yeah, same time. Good. I’m making actual dinner plans for tomorrow night, too. Nothing fancy, just food.
If you can get a sitter, Noah’s heart jumped. I can figure it out. Good. I’ll text you details. He spent the rest of the afternoon working through Richard’s impossible deadline. Around 5, Emma’s school called. She was sick. Fever and upset stomach. Could he pick her up? Noah grabbed his jacket and ran. Emma was in the nurse’s office looking small and miserable.
He scooped her up, signed her out, carried her to the car. I don’t feel good, Daddy. I know, sweetheart. We’ll get you home. She fell asleep in the car, head against the window. Noah carried her upstairs, tucked her into bed, took her temperature. 101. Not terrible, but not good. He gave her medicine, got her water, sat on the edge of her bed. I’m sorry, Emma mumbled.
