“He says that too.”
For the first time in a very long time, the CEO spent an entire hour without checking her phone.
She noticed only after leaving.
That frightened her more than she expected.
The safety commendation happened Monday.
The CEO asked first.
The Single Dad said no.
She expected that.
“What if we keep it internal?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the crew helped.”
She nodded.
“Then team commendation.”
He considered.
“Fine.”
“And your name appears in the technical bulletin.”
He frowned.
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Technical record matters.”
The CEO smiled.
“Exactly.”
He realized too late that she had guided him into agreeing.
“You manipulated that.”
“Negotiated.”
“You’re dangerous.”
“I’ve been told.”
Something changed between them in that conversation.
Not dramatic.
No sudden romance.
Just awareness.
They stood too long beside each other after the discussion ended.
The Single Dad noticed the perfume she wore.
The CEO noticed grease on his forearm.
Neither had any reason to notice.
Both did.
Two months later, the silver aircraft returned from a manufacturer retrofit.
New bracket design.
Reinforced line mounts.
Updated monitoring system.
The CEO requested the Single Dad perform final review.
The Chief Engineer smiled when he saw the work order.
“You’re becoming her favorite mechanic.”
The Single Dad glared.
“I hate that sentence.”
“Why?”
“Because people say favorite when they mean employee willing to argue.”
“Same thing.”
The Single Dad inspected the aircraft.
Hours.
No shortcuts.
The CEO appeared at dusk.
He was beneath the wing.
She stood nearby.
“Safe?”
He looked up.
“Yes.”
“That quickly?”
“Seven hours.”
She smiled.
“I meant your answer.”
“It’s safe.”
The CEO walked around the landing gear.
The diamond-flecked silver finish reflected the hangar lights across her face.
“You trust it?”
“Yes.”
“Would you put your daughter on it?”
The Single Dad looked toward her.
He remembered the first morning.
The same question, unspoken.
“Yes.”
The CEO nodded.
“That’s the certification I wanted.”
He climbed down.
“You employ pilots and engineers specifically so you don’t have to use my daughter as an aviation standard.”
“None of them slept beside it.”
He stopped.
She immediately realized how the sentence sounded.
“Sorry.”
The Single Dad looked at her.
Then smiled.
“Improvement.”
She laughed.
They began walking toward the hangar door.
The CEO asked:
“Dinner?”
He stopped.
She did too.