“I also grabbed a chocolate chip cookie, a cinnamon bun, and a breakfast sandwich. Just in case you’re more into salty snacks than sweet ones.”
He pushed the bag toward me and nudged one of the trays closer.
“Do you like your coffee black? Pumpkin spiced? Or are you a tea girl?”
His gaze flicked briefly to the scar on my neck again. I reached up to cover it with my collar. He didn’t say a word, just gently passed several cups to me.
“I’d really love to learn more about the mental health marathon,” he said, his voice steady, like this kind of interaction was normal for him. “And how my company can support more events like this.”
“Oh,” I said again. Apparently, it was my favorite word today. But what else was I supposed to say? My brain was still trying to catch up.
He walked around the table and motioned to the empty folding chair next to me. “Do you mind?”
I shook my head.
With a nod, he sat down.
“I’m not sure I’m the right person to tell you about the marathon,” I said quickly. “Our clinic’s CEO—”
“Nah.” He waved it off like it was nothing. “I’d rather hear from the people actually doing the work. CEOs don’t work. Not really.” He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Everything about him seemed effortless. Grounded. Like he never second-guessed his life like I did.
Meanwhile, I moved through life as if I needed to apologize for my existence.
“I think I saw you this morning,” he said, lifting a brow. “You were dragging two giant mastiffs off the road, right? Ipulled up just as you stepped onto the sidewalk. That was you, wasn’t it?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah. That was wild. I was so scared.”
“You didn’t look scared,” he said, shaking his head. “You just dragged them off the road, huh? All five feet of you. Like it was nothing. While the rest of the crowd just stared.”
A laugh escaped me, small and nervous. “Trust me, I was terrified. My hands were shaking so badly, I almost couldn’t drive afterward.”
He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine—not in a judging way, but like he was trying to figure out how that kind of courage fit inside someone so small.
“I love animals,” I said, shrugging.
“No kidding. Are you from around here?”
“Yes. You?”
“Born and raised.”
A short silence settled between us. Not awkward. Just quiet.
“So, what do you do?” he asked.
“Umm...I like to read. I’m really into Roman history. There’s something about ancient Rome that fascinates me. I also walk along the waterfront a lot. The water always calms me. And—”
His grin caught me off guard.
“What?” I asked nervously.
“I’ve never heard anyone answer that question like that before,” he said, still smiling.
Then it clicked.
“Oh. You meant for work. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, laughing. “You’re actually onto something. Why do we always assume it’s about work when weget asked what we do? We do things other than work, right? And work shouldn’t be the most important thing in life.”
