Besides, Emma’s already planning how to be the best big sister ever to a baby she’s never met. Good luck stopping her. That got a real smile from Victoria. Warm and grateful. that got a real smile from they drove back to the office in more comfortable silence and Noah thought maybe they were becoming something like friends, an unlikely friendship built on shared loneliness and the strange way their lives had collided, but real nonetheless.
Emma had taken to the new routine with surprising ease. Mrs. Chen picked her up from school most days and brought her to the office around 4, where she’d set up camp in Noah’s office doing homework while he finished meetings. The staff had collectively adopted her. Clare kept a drawer of snacks specifically for Emma’s visits.
Marcus taught her card tricks between PR sessions, and even David Reeves had thawed slightly after Emma announced his tie was very boring, but in a professional way. Is that a compliment? Reeves had asked. I think so, Emma replied seriously. Dad says being professional is important. Victoria spent more time in Noah’s office than her own, claiming she needed his input on program details, but mostly just seeming to enjoy the chaos Emma brought.
She’d sit in one of his chairs reviewing documents while Emma chattered about school or showed off her latest drawing. “You’re good with her,” Noah said one evening after Emma had fallen asleep on his office couch, worn out from a long day. Victoria looked up from her tablet. “She makes it easy. She’s not afraid of me.” Why would she be afraid of you? Most people are.
Not obviously, but there’s always this distance, like they’re talking to the CEO instead of a person. Victoria set the tablet aside. Emma just treats me like Victoria. It’s refreshing. That’s because she’s eight and hasn’t learned to be intimidated by money yet. I hope she never does. Noah studied Victoria’s face in the soft office lighting and saw exhaustion underneath the polish.
When’s the last time you took a day off? I don’t remember. That’s not healthy, says the man who’s been working 60our weeks for the past month. That’s different. I’m new. I’m trying to prove I belong here. Noah. Victoria’s voice was gentle but firm. You do belong here. You’ve done more in 6 weeks than some people accomplish in years.
the outreach you’ve built, the partnerships you’ve formed, the families already on our assistance list. It’s remarkable. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. There will always be more people who need help than we can reach. That’s why we have to pace ourselves instead of burning out before we even launch. She paused.
Claire’s been nagging me to take a weekend off. Maybe we both should. Noah thought about his empty apartment and the stack of files he’d planned to review over the weekend. I don’t know how to not work anymore. Me either. Maybe that’s something we need to learn. He Before Noah could respond, Emma stirred on the couch, blinking sleepily.
Dad, is it time to go home? Yeah, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed. Victoria helped Noah gather Emma’s scattered homework papers while Emma rubbed her eyes and tried to remember where she’d left her backpack. Come over for dinner tomorrow, Victoria said suddenly. Both of you, my place. Nothing fancy, just she hesitated.
I’d like the company. And Noah saw something vulnerable in her expression and understood. Victoria Sinclair, billionaire CEO, was lonely. We’d love to, he said. Emma perked up immediately, exhaustion forgotten. Does your house have a pool? It does, actually. Can I swim? If your dad says it’s okay, Dad, please.
Noah looked at his daughter’s hopeful face and Victoria’s soft smile and thought about how much their lives had changed in 6 weeks. Sure, M. We’ll swim. The weekend at Victoria’s estate was surreal in ways Noah was still processing days later. Emma had spent most of Saturday in the pool while Noah and Victoria sat on the patio talking about everything except work.
Victoria’s childhood growing up wealthy but emotionally isolated. Noah’s life with Sarah before cancer took her. The ways they’d both learned to survive by pretending they were stronger than they felt. On Sunday morning, Victoria had made breakfast, or tried to anyway. She’d burned the pancakes twice before Noah gently took over while she sat at the kitchen island looking embarrassed.
“I never learned to cook,” she admitted. We had staff for that growing up. And as an adult, I’ve mostly lived on takeout and whatever Clare orders for me. You’re about to have a baby. You need to learn at least basic survival cooking. Is that an offer to teach me? Noah flipped a pancake, golden and perfect. I guess it is.
Emma had declared the weekend the best ever, and spent the drive home planning their next visit. Noah let her chatter while his mind wandered to the strange intimacy of teaching Victoria how to cook eggs. The way she’d laughed when she nearly set off the smoke alarm, the moment their hands had brushed reaching for the same spatula.
He shut down that line of thinking immediately. Victoria was his boss, his friend, a woman about to have another man’s baby. Whatever attraction he might be developing was inappropriate and needed to stay locked away. The launch event was scheduled for a Thursday evening in mid- November. And Noah spent the week before feeling like he might throw up.
