You're driving? What? No, this is your car and I want to see if you can drive it without breaking down on the side of the road. She walked around to the passenger side. Come on, don't be scared.
I'm not scared. I'm appropriately cautious about driving a vintage car worth more than my annual income. It's insured and I trust you. That hit harder than it should have. Ethan slid into the driver's seat, adjusted the mirrors, and tested the clutch.
The car responded like a dream. Smooth, responsive, perfectly balanced. "Okay," he admitted. "This is amazing. " "I know. Now drive before I change my mind. " He pulled away from the curb, getting a feel for the car's rhythm.
It handled differently than his truck, lighter, more precise. Every input translated directly into motion. "Where am I going? " he asked. "Take I5 north. I'll tell you when to exit. " They drove in comfortable silence, the engine humming beneath them, Seattle's skyline sliding past on their left.
Ethan kept waiting for the awkwardness to set in, for the conversation to dry up, but it never did. Viven navigated from the passenger seat, occasionally pointing out landmarks or telling him stories about board meetings gone wrong. So, there I am, she said, presenting our 5-year expansion plan, and the VP of operations stands up and says, "With all due respect, Ms. Hart, this is exactly the kind of aggressive growth that killed your father. " Ethan winced. Jesus, what did you do?
I asked him if he'd like to tender his resignation right there or wait until after the meeting. He chose right there. She shrugged. Respect is earned, and he hadn't earned it. Remind me never to piss you off.
Smart man. They exited near Everett, following Vivien's directions down increasingly rural roads until they pulled into a small marina. Boats bobbed in their slips and the smell of salt water mixed with diesel fuel. Ethan killed the engine and looked around. We're going on a boat.
Kayaks, actually. Vivian pointed to a rental shack at the end of the dock. I called ahead. They're expecting us. You want to go kayaking?
I want to go kayaking. You said you wanted something without a dress code. This is definitely that. He followed her to the rental shack where a teenager with sunburned skin handed them life jackets and paddles. 20 minutes later they were on the water.
Viven in the front of a tandem kayak and Ethan in the back trying to remember the last time he'd been in a boat. You've done this before, right? Vivien called over her shoulder. Not since I was like 15. Summer camp.
Great. So we're probably going to capsize. Very motivating, but they found a rhythm quickly, their paddles cutting through the water in sink. The marina gave way to open water, and Ever shoreline stretched out to their left while mountains rose in the distance. "This was a good idea," Ethan admitted.
"I have them occasionally. " Vivien paused her paddling, letting them drift. "I needed this, something that wasn't a board meeting or a quarterly report or someone asking me to approve a budget. How often do you do normal stuff like this? Define normal like kaying. Going to diners.
Eating food that costs less than 50 bucks. She laughed, but it sounded sad. Almost never. My schedule is usually meetings at 7:00 a.m. Conference calls through lunch, dinner with investors or clients.
By the time I get home, I'm too tired to do anything except review documents and go to bed. That sounds awful. It's effective. It's lonely. Viven stopped paddling completely and turned to look at him.
Yeah, it is. They floated in silence for a moment, the kayak rocking gently with the waves. A seagull cried overhead, and somewhere in the distance, a motorboat engine rumbled to life. "Why'd you agree to the blind date? " Ethan asked. "If your schedule's that insane, why bother? " Catherine wore me down.