“Okay.”
Her eyes brightened.
“Okay?”
“Dinner.”
She smiled fully.
The Single Dad immediately regretted how much he liked that.
Their first real date happened at a family-owned Italian restaurant.
The Single Dad’s sister watched his daughter.
The Woman arrived alone.
Actually alone.
No visible security.
He asked.
She pointed toward a sedan parked half a block away.
“Fine.”
“That still counts as alone in my world.”
He laughed.
Dinner lasted three hours.
They talked about everything they had avoided.
His wife.
Cancer.
His daughter.
Starting Parker Building Services after his previous employer closed.
The Woman’s father.
Halcyon.
Growing up around executives who behaved differently around her family.
Learning at sixteen that friendship became complicated when everyone knew what her surname represented.
The Single Dad asked:
“How rich are you?”
She almost choked.
He smiled.
“You asked for honesty.”
She named a number roughly.
He stared.
“That isn’t a number normal people say aloud.”
“I warned you.”
“Your watch cost more than my truck.”
She looked at it.
“Probably.”
He shook his head.
“This is insane.”
“Is that a no to dessert?”
“Absolutely not.”
They ordered tiramisu.
The second date included his daughter.
Not planned.
His sister got sick.
The Single Dad tried to cancel.
The Woman said:
“Bring her.”
They went bowling.
The CEO of a multibillion-dollar company was terrible at bowling.
Spectacularly terrible.
The daughter beat her.
The Single Dad suspected the Woman allowed it.
Then watched her throw another gutter ball.
No.
She was genuinely terrible.
His daughter loved her.
That complicated everything.
The Single Dad set a boundary after dinner.
“My daughter doesn’t become part of whatever this is until we know it’s stable.”
The Woman nodded immediately.
“No surprise gifts.”
“Okay.”
“No giant birthday things.”
“Okay.”
“No fixing our house.”
She paused.
He pointed.
“That pause is exactly why I said it.”
She laughed.
“Fine.”
“No private school.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking.”
“I was not.”
“You make a face.”
She stared.
“What face?”
He smiled.
“Apparently everyone has one.”
Their romance grew gradually.
Coffee.
Dinner.
Walks.
Late phone calls.
She visited his workshop after hours.
He showed her how a commercial refrigeration system worked.
She understood almost nothing.
He was delighted.
For once, he knew something she could not solve by calling an executive.
One evening, he helped her replace a flat tire on her personal car.
She could have called roadside assistance.
She refused.
“I want to learn.”
“You own roadside assistance companies?”
“No.”
“Probably indirectly.”
She glared.
He laughed.
They knelt beside the wheel.
Her expensive sweater touched the pavement.
She did not care.
The Single Dad watched her tighten a lug nut.
“Not bad.”
She smiled.
“High praise.”
“Don’t get comfortable.”
When she stood, they were suddenly close.
The same feeling from the diner returned.
Her perfume.
His grease-stained hands.
No fake name tag this time.
The Woman looked at his mouth.
He noticed.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”