“That I spent four days trying to find a way not to destroy either of us.”
Jake looked at the folder.
Sophia pushed it toward him.
“Open it.”
He did.
Architectural renderings.
Revised property plans.
Partnership structure.
Ground-floor preservation.
New garage frontage.
Retail above.
Profit sharing.
Long-term ownership rights.
Jake stopped turning pages.
“What is this?”
“Your garage stays.”
His eyes lifted.
Sophia continued.
“Same footprint.”
“Same name.”
“You keep full operating control.”
“The new development wraps around it.”
“My flagship goes above and beside it.”
Jake stared.
“You changed the entire project.”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
Sophia shook her head.
“For everyone.”
“For my employees.”
“For you.”
“For your daughter.”
“For me too.”
Jake's expression softened slightly.
“What do you get?”
Sophia smiled faintly.
“A flagship location.”
“A mechanic I apparently can't stop thinking about.”
Jake looked away, fighting a smile.
She continued.
“And fifty percent ownership in the redevelopment company.”
He looked back.
“Fifty?”
“You own the land portion associated with the garage.”
“You bring property value.”
“I bring capital and development.”
“Equal partners.”
Jake stared at the document again.
“I don't have your money.”
“I’m not asking you for it.”
“That doesn't feel equal.”
“Then negotiate.”
He looked at her.
Sophia leaned forward.
“You're a business owner.”
“Act like one.”
Something in Jake’s expression changed.
This was language he understood.
He read carefully.
Page by page.
Sophia waited.
Twenty minutes later, he looked up.
“There’s a clause here giving me veto rights over relocation.”
“Yes.”
“You wrote that.”
“Yes.”
“You're serious.”
“I am.”
Jake closed the folder.
Then looked at her for a long time.
“Why didn't you just tell me?”
Sophia's confidence disappeared.
“Because I thought you'd look at me exactly the way you're looking at me now.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you don't know if I’m somebody you can trust.”
Jake went quiet.
Sophia's voice softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“For disappearing.”
“For making your daughter think she did something wrong.”
“For making you think you did.”
Jake looked toward the counter where his daughter decorated a cookie with enough icing for three cakes.
“You hurt me.”
Sophia nodded.
“I know.”
“I haven't let someone close in years.”
“I know.”
“Then you vanished.”
Sophia's eyes filled.
“I know.”
Jake exhaled.
Then reached across the table.
Sophia looked at his hand.
He placed it over hers.
“But you came back.”