50 vehicles a month, steady work, enough income to catch up on his loan, hire help, maybe even start thinking about expansion. All because Vivien Hart had broken down on a dark road, and he'd stopped to help. His phone buzzed. Vivien, how did it go? Good.
Really good. Morrison seems solid. He is. Been with the company 15 years. If he likes you, you're set.
Thank you for this for everything. Stop thanking me. You earned this still. Thank you. A pause.
Then, are we still on for this afternoon suit shopping? Ethan looked at the contract again at the payment schedule that would actually let him afford things. Yeah. Where should I meet you? Nordstrom downtown.
2 p.m. And Ethan, yeah, don't overthink it. It's just a suit. But it wasn't just a suit, and they both knew it. It was him stepping into her world, trying to be someone who could stand beside her without looking like he'd wandered in from the street.
It was terrifying and necessary, and he was definitely overthinking it. He showed up at Nordstrom at 155, feeling immediately out of place among the polished shoppers and designer displays. Vivien was waiting near the men's section, wearing a business suit that probably cost more than his monthly rent. "You came," she said, smiling. "I said I would. " "I know, but I wasn't sure if you'd bolt again. " "I don't bolt. " "You literally ran away from my car on Sunday.
That was a strategic retreat. " She laughed and linked her arm through his. "Come on, let's find you something that doesn't make you want to bolt strategically. " The next hour was surprisingly painless. Viven had pulled a personal shopper, a guy named Marcus, who had an eye for fit and zero patience for Ethan's self-deprecating comments. "Stop saying you look ridiculous," Marcus said, adjusting the shoulders on a charcoal suit. "You look good.
Accept it. I look like I'm playing dress up. You look like someone who cleans up well. " Viven appeared beside him, examining the fit. Marcus is right. This is perfect.
Ethan looked at himself in the three-way mirror. The suit was simple, charcoal gray, clean lines, nothing flashy, but it fit well, and he had to admit Marcus and Vivien were right. He didn't look ridiculous. He looked like someone who might actually belong at a corporate fundraiser. How much?
He asked. Marcus quoted a number that made Ethan's stomach drop. That's Yamos. It's what good suits cost, Vivien said gently. And you'll get years out of it.
Job interviews, Sophie's future graduations, weddings. Still a lot, which is why I'm loaning you the money. We talked about this. They bought the suit, plus a white shirt and a tie that Viven picked out over his protests. When the total rang up, Ethan made a mental note of the exact amount.
He'd pay her back, every penny. They walked out of Nordstrom into late afternoon drizzle. Ethan carrying his purchases in a Nordstrom bag that felt both exciting and completely foreign. Thank you, he said, for helping with this. You've thanked me three times already.