“I did.”
She looked at the clock.
“It’s late.”
“I know.”
The Single Dad wiped his hands.
The CEO frowned.
“You’re stopping?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
“We are in the middle of this.”
“My daughter needs dinner.”
The CEO stared.
The little girl looked between them.
The CEO softened despite herself.
“I can order dinner.”
The Single Dad shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re leaving.”
She blinked.
“You’re leaving a fifty-million-dollar Ferrari half disassembled.”
“Yes.”
The girl whispered:
“Is it really fifty million?”
The CEO looked at her.
“Depending on who is arguing.”
The girl’s eyes widened.
The Single Dad picked up her backpack.
“Come on.”
The CEO followed him toward the door.
“You cannot be serious.”
He stopped.
“You asked what I needed.”
“Yes.”
“I need time.”
“You have the entire night.”
“No.”
The CEO lowered her voice.
“I’ll triple your pay.”
The Single Dad’s expression hardened.
The moment changed.
His daughter noticed.
He looked toward the CEO.
“That is exactly what I meant earlier.”
“What?”
“You think every boundary is a price negotiation.”
Her face tightened.
“I was trying to solve the problem.”
“You were trying to buy past the answer.”
The Garage Owner looked away.
The CEO realized she had done it again.
She swallowed.
“You’re right.”
The Single Dad stopped.
He had expected resistance.
The apology caught him unprepared.
She continued.
“I’m sorry.”
His expression softened slightly.
“Tomorrow?”
she asked.
“Eight.”
“Not seven?”
“School drop-off.”
She almost smiled.
“Eight.”
The Single Dad left with his daughter.
The CEO remained in the hangar staring at the Ferrari.
The Garage Owner stood beside her.
“You like him.”
She looked toward him.
“That is wildly inappropriate.”
“So yes.”
The CEO ignored him.
The Garage Owner smiled.
“He’s good.”
“At cleaning?”
“At everything.”
She looked toward him.
“You knew?”
“Not all of it.”
“Then what?”
The Garage Owner leaned against the bench.
“When something breaks after hours, he usually fixes it before I can call anyone.”
“I assumed he was handy.”
“Last winter our computerized paint booth started throwing pressure faults.”
“Three technicians couldn’t find it.”
“He did.”
“What was wrong?”
“Door seal.”
The CEO almost laughed.
“He charged you?”
“No.”
“That’s terrible business.”
“Exactly why he’s not rich.”
The CEO looked toward the empty doorway.
That night she went home with her father’s note.