I know. You told me you live on protein shakes and sad desk salads. Lily cried when I told her. I did not cry, Lily called from the living room where she was building an elaborate Lego space station. But it was very concerning.
Daniel handed Victoria a bowl of eggs. Beat these with the Parmesan. Not too fast. You don't want them to foam. They moved around the small kitchen in a dance, Victoria had never learned.
Daniel boiling pasta, Victoria whisking eggs, Lily periodically appearing to steal cherry tomatoes from the salad bowl. When the carbonara was done, they sat at a table barely big enough for three, eating from mismatched plates while Lily explained the physics of rocket staging. "So, the first stage burns all its fuel and then falls away." Lily said, using a breadstick to demonstrate. "Then, the second stage lights.
Then the third. You keep dropping the heavy empty parts so you can keep going up." Victoria found herself thinking about all the heavy empty parts of her own life she'd been carrying, unwilling to let anything fall away. After dinner, Lily gave her a comprehensive tour of her bedroom. The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, the telescope by the window, the shelf of space books organized by mission date.
Then, without warning or preamble, she hugged Victoria tightly around the waist. "I'm glad Daddy has a friend." Lily whispered. "He's been sad for a really long time." When Victoria finally left at 9:30, Daniel walked her to her waiting car.
The brownstone glowed behind them, warm and alive in a way her empty penthouse never had been. "Thank you." Victoria said. "For letting me into your home." "Thank you for coming.
Lily hasn't stopped talking about you since the ice cream shop." Daniel paused, his hand on the car door. "She asked me if you could come to her school's space fair next month." "What did you tell her?" "That I'd ask you.
So, I'm asking." Victoria thought about her calendar, the color-coded blocks, the strategic priorities. Then, she thought about Lily's fierce hug and Daniel's quiet kindness, and the way carbonara tasted when you made it with people who wanted you there. Yes, she said. I'd like that very much.
The photograph appeared on page six three days later. Victoria and Daniel at the ice cream shop in Chelsea. Lily between them. All three laughing at something off camera. The headline read Ice Queen melts for maintenance man hailed tech CEO dating building employee.
By noon it had spread to every tech news site, financial blog, and gossip platform. The comment section devolved rapidly. Gold digger spotted. PR stunt for her mental health initiative. What does a billionaire want with a janitor?
Victoria's phone rang continuously. Her communications team wanted an immediate statement. The board chair demanded an emergency call. Three different PR firms offered their crisis management services. Maya appeared in her office with printouts of increasingly vicious online speculation.