The heart contract is paying well. I can afford to keep my promises. Keep it. Consider it a gift. Vivien, please let me do this one thing.
You've given me so much confidence, perspective, the courage to actually make a change. Let me give you this. He hesitated, then took her hand instead of the money. How about this? You keep the money and instead you come to dinner at my place tomorrow.
Sophie wants to cook for you. She's planning a menu. Sophie's eight. What's she planning to cook? Spaghetti with a side of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.
She's very specific about her culinary vision. Vivien laughed. That sounds perfect. What time? 6:30.
And Vivien, don't bring wine or flowers or anything expensive. Just bring yourself. I can do that. She kissed him in the parking lot under the flickering street light, and Ethan thought about how far they'd come from that rainy night when he'd stopped to help a stranger. How a broken down Jaguar had somehow led to this moment.
Standing outside his shop with a woman who just quit her empire to figure out what actually mattered. The next evening, Vivien showed up at his apartment at 6:30 sharp, wearing jeans and a sweater and carrying nothing but a bottle of sparkling cider. "For Sophie," she explained. "It's fancy, but not alcoholic. " Sophie opened the door before Ethan could, already wearing an apron that was three sizes too big. "You're here.
Come see the kitchen. I've been cooking for an hour. " The apartment smelled like tomato sauce and garlic bread, and Sophie had indeed been cooking. The spaghetti was slightly overcooked. The sauce was from a jar, and the dinosaur nuggets were exactly as advertised. But the table was set with care, complete with a construction paper centerpiece Sophie had made at school.
"This is amazing," Vivian said, examining the centerpiece. "Did you make this in art class? It's supposed to be flowers, but they look more like explosions. " I tried. I love explosions. They're very artistic.
They ate dinner together. Sophie dominating the conversation with theories about whether penguins could survive in space and detailed explanations of her science project. Viven listened with genuine interest, asking questions and offering suggestions that Sophie considered seriously. After dinner, they played Sophie's invented card game, still with rules that changed constantly, and watched the Penguin documentary that Sophie had now seen approximately 40 times. When Sophie finally fell asleep on the couch, Ethan carried her to bed and returned to find Vivian doing dishes.
You don't have to do that, he said. I want to. This is nice. Normal. Everything my life hasn't been for years.
You're going to have a lot more normal now. What are you going to do with 6 months of transition time? I honestly don't know. I've been CEO for so long. I don't remember what I like to do before.
She dried a plate, examining it like it held answers. Maybe I'll take a class, learn something completely impractical, or travel somewhere that isn't a business trip. Or you could just rest, figure out what makes you happy. Is it pathetic that what makes me happy is doing dishes in your kitchen while your daughter sleeps on the couch. If it's pathetic, then we're both pathetic because this makes me happy, too.
She set down the plate and turned to face him. I'm falling in love with you. Is that crazy? We've only known each other a month. Ethan's heart kicked against his ribs.
It's crazy, but I'm falling in love with you, too, so we're in good company. What do we do now? We keep doing this. Dinners and dishes and card games with impossible rules. We figure it out as we go.
I'm not good at figuring things out without a plan. Then we'll make a plan. Step one, keep seeing each other. Step two, see how it goes. Step three, adjust as needed.
That's a terrible plan. It's the only plan I've got. She kissed him, tasting like spaghetti sauce and possibility. And Ethan wrapped his arms around her, feeling the last of his doubts dissolve. This was real.
This was working. This was worth every moment of fear and uncertainty. Over the next few months, they built something together that didn't fit any corporate structure or conventional timeline. Vivien spent her weekdays transitioning out of Heart Industries, training her replacement and handling board meetings with a patient she hadn't known she possessed. Her evenings and weekends were split between Ethan's cramped apartment and her slowly warming penthouse.
The apartment got plants, art that Vivien actually chose instead of accepting from a stager. Photos of her and Ethan and Sophie at the aquarium at the park making pancakes in her kitchen. The space transformed from a museum into a home, messy and imperfect and lived in. Ethan's shop continued to grow. The Hard Industries contract led to other contracts, word of mouth referrals, a reputation for honest work that actually spread.
He hired a second mechanic, upgraded equipment, started thinking about expansion in concrete terms instead of impossible dreams. Sophie adjusted to having Viven around with the easy acceptance of children who haven't learned to be skeptical yet. She taught Viven about penguins and card games and the proper way to organize kitchen cabinets. Viven taught Sophie about business and negotiation and the importance of knowing your worth. Sarah remained skeptical for exactly 2 weeks before declaring that Viven was acceptable, assuming she doesn't break my brother's heart.
Viven accepted this with grace and won Sarah over completely by helping her navigate a complicated school district bureaucracy issue using corporate contacts and sheer determination. 6 months after the board meeting where Viven had announced her resignation, she officially stepped down as CEO of Heart Industries. The company threw a farewell party that Viven attended with Ethan and Sophie, making small talk with board members while Sophie entertained herself by rating the appetizers on a scale she'd invented. "The little sandwiches are a seven," Sophie informed a beused board member. "But the shrimp things are a two.