Zoe's school came first. The bus ride took forty minutes instead of the fifteen-minute drive, and by the time we arrived, first period had already started.
I signed her in at the office, trying to ignore the look the secretary gave me—that particular blend of pity and judgment that I'd seen so many times before.
"Rough morning?" the woman asked, her eyes moving over my disheveled hair, my wrinkled blouse, the circles under my eyes.
"Car trouble," I said tightly.
"Mmm." She handed me the sign-in sheet. "Well, these things happen. To some people more than others, I suppose."
I bit down on the response I wanted to give. Signed the sheet. Kissed Zoe goodbye and promised to pick her up on time. I made it to Dubois Industries at 11:47 AM.
I was three hours late.
In the lobby bathroom, I stopped to assess the damage. My reflection stared back at me: hair escaping from its ponytail in wild strands, silk blouse wrinkled from being shoved in the bus, shadows under my eyes that no amount of concealer could hide. I looked exactly like what I was—a woman at the end of her rope, barely holding on.
I fixed what I could. Smoothed my hair. Straightened my blouse. Washed my face and dried it with paper towels that left tiny white flecks on my skin.
It didn't help much. But it was something.
The elevator ride to the twenty-seventh floor felt endless.
When the doors opened, Xavier was standing at my desk.
He looked up when I approached. His expression was unreadable—not angry, not sympathetic, just watchful. Like he was trying to figure something out.
"Car trouble?" he asked.
I stopped short. "How did you?—"
"You're never late." His eyes moved over my face, taking in the details I'd tried to hide.
I didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know what to do with the way he was looking at me—like he actually saw me, like he actually cared what was wrong.
"I'm sorry," I said finally. "It won't happen again."
"That's not what I—" He stopped. Ran a hand through his hair in that gesture I was beginning to recognize as frustration. "Never mind. Just... let me know if you need anything."
He walked back to his office and closed the door.
I spent the rest of the day trying to focus on actual work. Answering phones. Sorting files. Responding to emails. The normal tasks that usually came so easily, that I could do in my sleep.
But my mind kept drifting to the look in Xavier’s eyes.
I didn't want him to be worried. I didn't want him to look at me like that, like I was someone worth worrying about. It would be so much easier if he was just the careless playboy everyone said he was. If I could dismiss him, put him in a box, keep him at arm's length where he belonged.
But he kept surprising me. Kept being different from what I expected.
And I didn't know what to do with that.
I kept my distance for the rest of the day. Even though he was still poring over files, I ran out of the office at exactly 5 PM to go pick up Zoe. I was avoiding Xavier because I didn’t have an answer yet. And with everything that was going on, I feared I’d say yes on the spot if he asked again.
All I could do was try to manage the chaos, like getting a repair estimate for my useless car.
I stood in the parking lot of the mechanic's shop, Zoe's hand in mine, staring at the paper like it might change if I looked long enough.
$800. Alternator and battery, plus labor. Non-negotiable.
I had $200.
