Chương 4
Callum smiled.
“I did not say that.”
“You implied it.”
“I am an editor. I imply things professionally.”
She laughed.
Then she got into the car.
Callum watched it disappear into traffic.
For a few seconds, he simply stood there holding nothing.
No flowers.
No excuse to leave early.
No plan.
Then his phone buzzed.
Marcus.
Callum answered.
“Well?”
Marcus did not bother saying hello.
“How did it go?”
Callum looked at the street.
“She is terrifying.”
There was a pause.
“That bad?”
“No.”
Callum smiled despite himself.
“That is the problem.”
Marcus was silent for a moment.
Then he laughed.
Not the polite laugh people used when they wanted to end a conversation.
A real laugh.
“The problem?”
Callum started walking toward his car.
“Yes.”
“Explain.”
“I cannot.”
“That is new.”
“I know.”
Marcus laughed again.
“You met someone you cannot explain?”
“She is complicated.”
“Everyone is complicated.”
“No, Marcus.”
Callum unlocked his car.
“She owns companies that have more employees than the town I grew up in.”
“And?”
“And I own a car that makes a strange noise whenever I turn left.”
“That is not relevant.”
“It feels relevant.”
Marcus sighed.
“You are doing the thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Finding reasons something will not work before it has even started.”
Callum stopped beside his car.
The words annoyed him because they were too accurate.
“I have a daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I have a job.”
“Yes.”
“I have a life that is already difficult enough.”
Marcus's voice softened.
“And maybe that is exactly why you need something good.”
Callum looked at the empty street.
He wanted to argue.
He usually did.
Arguments were easier than admitting uncertainty.
But he had no argument ready.
“I am not saying she is going to become my future wife,” Marcus continued.
“Thank you for making that sentence much more terrifying.”
“I am saying you had one good night with someone who made you forget to check the time.”
Callum looked at his watch.
He had not noticed.
That bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
“I should go pick up Ruby.”
“Your date is over and you immediately went back to dad mode.”
“Someone has to.”
“Callum.”
“What?”
“You are allowed to have both.”
The line went quiet.
Callum hated that Marcus always knew when to stop talking.
Because it meant he was probably right.
The next morning, Helena Carrington arrived at her office before most of her employees.
She preferred the building before it became full of voices.
Before meetings.
Before people walked into her office carrying problems wrapped in carefully prepared language.
At six forty-five, the city outside her window was still changing shifts.
Delivery trucks moved through streets that would be crowded within an hour.
Workers entered buildings carrying coffee.
People with ordinary mornings began ordinary days.
Helena sometimes envied that.
Not because she wanted an ordinary life.
She did not.
But because ordinary people could fail quietly.
Her failures appeared in articles.
Her mistakes became numbers on screens.
Her decisions were discussed by people who had never sat in her chair.
She placed the yellow tulips from the previous night on the corner of her desk.
Her assistant noticed immediately.
That was the problem with working with someone for twelve years.
They noticed everything.
“I did not know we were accepting flowers now,” Eleanor said.
Helena looked up from her laptop.
“We are not.”
Eleanor looked at the tulips.
“Clearly we are.”
“They were from dinner.”
“Dinner.”
Helena returned to the screen.
“Yes.”
“With someone?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor waited.
Helena continued reading.
The silence lasted exactly long enough to become a question.
“Are you going to ask?” Helena said.
“I was deciding whether you wanted me to.”
“I do not.”
“Then I will not.”
Helena looked up.
That was why she trusted Eleanor.
Most people around her either pushed too much or not enough.
Eleanor somehow knew the difference.
“He is an editor,” Helena said.
“An editor.”
“Yes.”
“From one of your companies?”
“No.”
“Interesting.”
Helena gave her a look.
“Do not make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you have already created an entire story.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Was he nice?”
Helena looked back at the flowers.
The question was simple.
The answer was not.
“Yes.”
“That sounded complicated.”
“It is.”
“Why?”
Because he had looked at her and seen a person before seeing a number.
Because he had not asked about her money.
Because when Garrett had insulted her, Callum had not calculated the consequences first.
Because he had defended her in a way that did not make her feel weak.
She did not say any of that.
“He is different,” Helena said.
Eleanor leaned against the door.
“Different usually means either interesting or dangerous.”
“Sometimes both.”
Before Eleanor could respond, Helena's phone rang.
The name on the screen erased the small softness that had appeared.
Garrett.
She answered.
“Garrett.”
“Helena.”
His tone was pleasant.
That was always worse.
People who were angry were easy.
People who smiled while threatening you required more attention.
“I assume this is about yesterday.”
“Actually, I wanted to congratulate you.”
“For what?”
“For finding someone who does not care about your money.”
Helena's expression hardened.
“Is there a reason you called?”
A pause.
“You know, I was curious about him.”
“That is not your concern.”
“Everyone becomes my concern when they involve themselves in my business.”
“Callum did not.”
“He involved himself when he decided to embarrass me.”
Helena leaned back.
“You embarrassed yourself.”
Silence.
Small.
But noticeable.
Garrett was not used to hearing that.
“I see.”
“No, Garrett.”
Her voice remained calm.
“You do not.”
He exhaled.
“Your board meeting today is going to be difficult.”
“That sounds like a warning.”
“It is advice.”
“You rarely give advice without expecting something.”
“Maybe I am changing.”
Helena almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was predictable.
“What do you want?”
May you like
“I want you to stop pretending you can manage everything alone.”
“I manage quite well.”
