Weird, but good. Weird how? Sarah pressed. She was the one I helped. The car that broke down.
Sarah's eyes went wide. You're kidding. Nope. Fixed her Jaguar, rushed to the restaurant. She'd already left because I was late.
And then we figured it out and met at a diner instead. That's so romantic, Sophie squealled. Like a movie. It's something. Ethan ran a hand through his hair, realizing it was probably sticking up at weird angles.
She's Sarah. She's Vivian Hart. His sister's expression went blank. I'm sorry. What?
Vivien Hart. Hart Industries. The Viven Hart. No, no, that's not. Catherine said she was in finance.
Catherine lied or didn't know or decided billionaire CEO was too intimidating to lead with. Sarah stood up pacing the small bedroom. Ethan Vivien Hart is worth like I don't even know. Billions. Actual billions.
I'm aware. And you ate burgers with her at Rosy's diner. Seemed like the thing to do at the time. Sophie looked between them, confusion creasing her forehead. Is billions a lot?
Yes, sweetheart. Sarah said it's a lot. Does she have a castle? I didn't ask about her real estate portfolio, Sofh. His daughter climbed onto the bed, settling cross-legged beside him.
But did you like her for real? Not just because she's rich. Ethan looked at his daughter, too perceptive, too aware of adult complications, too familiar with the weight of things that shouldn't concern 8-year-olds. Yeah, he said honestly. I liked her.
She's different than I expected. Good. Different. I think so. Sophie grinned and it was like watching the sun come out.
Then you should see her again. Maybe I will. No. Maybe. You definitely should.
She poked him in the arm. You smiled when you said her name. Did not. Did too. You got all smiley and weird.
Sarah laughed. She's right. You do look smiley and weird. I hate both of you. No, you don't.
Sophie hugged him fiercely, her small arms wrapped around his neck. I'm glad you went on the date, even if you got all muddy. He hugged her back, breathing in the smell of her strawberry shampoo and the lingering scent of Sarah's house. Me too, kiddo. His phone buzzed on the nightstand.
All three of them looked at it. Is it her? Sophie whispered like the phone could hear them. Ethan picked it up and his stomach did something complicated when he saw Vivien's name. "What does it say? " Sarah demanded.
He opened the message. "Good morning. I'm assuming you survived the drive home without the truck dying. Should I be worried? " "She's asking about the truck," he said. Sophie peered over his shoulder.
"That's boring. Tell her you had fun. " "I'm not taking dating advice from an 8-year-old. " "Why not? I'm smart. " Sarah grabbed the phone from his hands, ignoring his protest. Let me see. Okay, this is good.
She's initiating contact. She's being playful, but not too eager. She's Can I have my phone back? In a minute, I'm analyzing. She typed something and Ethan lunged for the phone.
Sarah, what are you? Relax. I just said the truck is fine and you had a good time. See, professional and friendly. I could have written that myself.
Yes, but you would have overthought it for 20 minutes first. She handed the phone back. You're welcome. The response came almost immediately. "Good.
I'd hate for my handiwork to be wasted. " "Are you working today? " Sophie read over his shoulder again. "What's handiwork mean? " "She fixed the truck yesterday," Ethan explained, then caught Sarah's raised eyebrow. "Long story, I'll tell you later," he typed back. Shops open 9 to5. "Why? " "Just curious.
I like to know where my mechanics spend their time. " Sarah made a strangled noise. She's flirting with you. She's not. She absolutely is. My mechanics.
That's possessive flirting. You're reading too much into it. And you're not reading enough. Sarah grabbed Sophie's hand. Come on, Sofh.
Let's make breakfast and let your dad figure out how to text like a grown-up. But I want to help. You can help by making sure the pancakes don't burn. They left him alone in the bedroom, and Ethan stared at his phone for a long moment. The conversation sat there innocent enough, but Sarah was right.
There was something underneath it, a current he wasn't sure how to navigate. He typed, "You can visit if you want. Fair warning, the shop is not billionaire approved. I've seen worse. Doubtful.
Try me. " He smiled despite himself, then caught his reflection in the mirror across the room. Sarah was right. He did look weird when he smiled. Doors open if you're serious. I'll think about it.
Ethan set the phone down and headed for the shower. The hot water felt like a small miracle, washing away the dried mud and the ache in his muscles. By the time he emerged, Sophie and Sarah had destroyed the kitchen in the name of pancakes. "You used every bowl," he observed. "Cooking is messy," Sophie informed him as if this was breaking news.
"Aunt Sarah let me crack the eggs. " The evidence of that decision was splattered across the counter, but Sarah just shrugged. She's learning. They ate breakfast together at the tiny kitchen table. Sophie chattering about a school project on dinosaurs while Sarah occasionally interjected with questions about Viven that Ethan deflected as smoothly as possible. When they finished, Sarah started gathering her things.
I've got to get to work. Sophie, you want to stay with your dad today? Yes. Sophie bounced up. Can I come to the shop?
Ethan hesitated. Saturdays were usually slow, and having Sophie around meant he'd spend more time supervising than actually working. But the hope in her eyes made the decision easy. Sure, but you have to stay in the office and do your homework first. Deal.
They drove to the shop in comfortable silence. Sophie humming along to the radio while Ethan navigated the Saturday morning traffic. Georgetown looked different in daylight. Less industrial, more workingclass neighborhood trying to hold on to its identity against the encroaching tide of tech money and gentrification. Kohl's auto repair sat between a Vietnamese restaurant and a furniture warehouse that had been closed for 3 years.