“She was.”
He smiled.
“I loved her.”
The CEO’s expression did not change.
No jealousy.
No discomfort.
Just respect.
“That doesn’t scare you?”
he asked.
“What?”
“Hearing me say that.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I would be more worried if you could talk about the mother of your child as though loving her had become inconvenient history.”
The Single Dad stared.
The CEO continued:
“I’m not competing with someone who is gone.”
“I couldn’t.”
“And I wouldn’t want to.”
His chest tightened.
The kettle steamed between them.
He poured coffee.
She took the mug.
Their fingers touched.
Brief.
Electric.
They both noticed.
Nobody joked.
They carried the coffee into the living room.
The Single Dad sat at one end of the sofa.
The Female CEO chose the other.
Distance again.
Intentional.
They talked.
At first about the company.
The audit.
The executive suspended.
The likely reinstatement offer.
The Single Dad told her he did not know whether he wanted to return.
The Female CEO did not try to persuade him.
That surprised him.
“You’re not going to sell me on the company?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if I need to convince you after what happened, you’re not ready to come back.”
“Or the company isn’t ready to deserve me.”
She looked at him.
“That too.”
They talked about his daughter.
School.
Her obsession with astronomy.
The fact that she believed Pluto deserved reinstatement more than most fired executives.
The Female CEO laughed.
“That is an excellent policy position.”
“She has a petition.”
“Of course.”
They talked about Christmas.
The CEO admitted she hated corporate parties.
Loved Christmas lights.
Could not cook.
The Single Dad refused to believe anyone could fail at scrambled eggs.
She described setting a pan on fire.
He withdrew the accusation.
At 11:36, the hallway door opened.
Tiny footsteps.
The Single Dad turned.
His daughter stood there wearing red pajamas covered in planets.
Hair messy.
Eyes half-open.
She looked at her father.
Then at the Female CEO.
Then back.
The Single Dad stood.
“Hey.”
His daughter squinted.
“Who’s she?”
The CEO started to stand.
The Single Dad said:
“Stay.”
He walked toward his daughter.
“She works with Dad.”
His daughter frowned.
“You don’t work there anymore.”
The Single Dad looked toward the CEO.
She covered a smile with her coffee.
His daughter continued:
“So she worked with Dad.”
“Technically.”
The Female CEO stood now.
“Hi.”
The girl looked her up and down.
Children were ruthless assessors.
“You’re dressed fancy.”
“I came from a party.”
“Did you win?”
The Female CEO blinked.
“The party?”
“Yes.”