Chapter 12 - THE FIRST DINNER THAT WASN’T ABOUT BUSINESS
Nathaniel waited exactly thirty-one days.
Rosa noticed.
She had moved out on March first.
On April first, at 6:02 p.m., her phone rang.
She answered from the tiny office of Delgado House Staffing, where two desks, one printer, three mismatched chairs, and an unreasonable number of coffee cups filled a rented storefront in Stamford.
“Nathaniel.”
“You knew it was me.”
“Caller ID exists.”
“Right.”
He sounded strangely nervous.
Rosa smiled.
“What do you want, Mr. Whitmore?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why?”
“I’m not your employer anymore.”
“That is true.”
A pause.
Then Nathaniel said, “Dinner.”
Rosa leaned back in her chair.
“What about it?”
“Would you have it with me?”
“I usually have dinner.”
“With me.”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“Yes.”
“Poorly.”
Nathaniel sighed.
Rosa laughed.
“Try again.”
He went silent for a moment.
Then his voice became sincere.
“Rosa Delgado, would you have dinner with me Friday night?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“That was easy.”
“You survived the hard part already.”
“What hard part?”
“Waiting until I didn’t depend on you for my paycheck.”
Nathaniel said nothing.
Rosa’s smile faded into something warmer.
“I noticed.”
Friday night, Nathaniel arrived at her apartment himself.
No driver.
No security convoy.
One car.
One bouquet of daisies because Lily had once told him roses were “too fancy and kind of boring.”
Lily opened the door.
“Mr. Nathaniel!”
She hugged his knees.
He held up the flowers.
“These are for your mother.”
Lily inspected them.
“Good.”
Rosa appeared behind her.
Black dress.
Simple earrings.
Hair loose.
Nathaniel forgot what he planned to say.
Rosa noticed.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You look confused.”
“I am.”
“Promising start.”
Lily giggled.
Margaret had volunteered to babysit.
When she arrived, she brought two security guards, a board game, three containers of dessert, and strong opinions.
Rosa looked at Nathaniel.
“She knows this is babysitting, right?”
Margaret removed her coat.
“I raised a billionaire.”
“I can manage one four-year-old.”
Lily corrected her.
“I’m three.”
“For another month.”
“Still three.”
Margaret looked at Rosa.
“She has your argumentative tendencies.”
Nathaniel coughed to hide a laugh.
Dinner was not at a private club.
Rosa had forbidden that.
Nathaniel chose a small Italian restaurant overlooking a marina.
No photographers.
No VIP room.
They sat near a window.
For the first twenty minutes, conversation was awkward.
They had survived attempted murder together.
Fraud.
Court.
Corporate collapse.
Yet deciding whether to order pasta or fish somehow felt more intimate.
Rosa finally said, “We are terrible at this.”
Nathaniel relaxed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I normally discuss disasters with you.”
“Okay.”
She pointed at him.
“Tell me something normal.”
Nathaniel thought.
“I hate olives.”
“That’s disappointing.”
“You like olives?”
“No.”
“Then why is it disappointing?”
“I wanted something more interesting.”
He smiled.
“I can’t swim very well.”
Rosa blinked.
“You own houses on the water.”
“I know.”
“Boats?”
“Three.”
“You can’t swim.”
“I can survive.”
“That’s not swimming.”
“My father believed children learned through adversity.”
“So he threw you into a lake?”
“Essentially.”
Rosa laughed so hard she nearly spilled her water.
Then she told him she had once been kicked out of a high-school talent show for lip-syncing the wrong verse of a Beyoncé song.
Nathaniel nearly choked.
“You performed?”
“I was sixteen.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“Never bring it up again.”
Dinner became easy.
They talked about Lily.
Margaret.
Rosa’s company.
Nathaniel’s uncertain future.
The board had asked him to return once the investigation formally concluded.
He had not answered.
“You don’t want to go back?”
Rosa asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You loved the company.”
“I loved winning.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel looked toward the marina.
“I spent fifteen years believing my job was to make Whitmore bigger.”
“Now?”
“I think maybe my job is to make it worth inheriting.”
Rosa understood.
“You’re going back.”
“Probably.”
“But differently.”
“Yes.”
After dinner they walked along the waterfront.
The April air was cold.
Rosa tucked her hands into her coat.
Nathaniel hesitated.
Then offered his arm.
She took it.
It was almost old-fashioned.
Almost funny.
Neither joked about it.
Near the car, Nathaniel stopped.
“I should tell you something.”
Rosa looked up.
“That sentence has caused us problems before.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He smiled.
Then became quiet.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Dating?”
“Trusting someone after Vivien.”
Rosa’s expression softened.
“Nathaniel, you don’t owe me trust because we had dinner.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t owe you forever because you protected Lily.”
“I know that too.”
“Good.”
She stepped closer.
“We just have dinner.”
“And see whether we want another one.”
“That sounds manageable.”
“It should.”
Nathaniel looked at her.
“Do you?”
“Want another?”
“Yes.”
Rosa smiled.
“Yes.”
He leaned slightly forward.
Then stopped.
“Can I kiss you?”
Rosa’s smile widened.
“You really are bad at this.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Softly.
Briefly.
No fireworks.
No dramatic music.
No promises.
It was better than that.
Real.
When they returned to Rosa’s apartment, they found Margaret asleep on the sofa.
Lily lay across her chest.
A half-completed puzzle covered the coffee table.
Nathaniel carefully lifted Lily.
The child opened one eye.
“Did you kiss?”
Rosa nearly dropped her purse.
Margaret’s eyes opened immediately.
Nathaniel stared.
“Why would you ask that?”
Lily yawned.
“Grandma said maybe.”
Margaret closed her eyes again.
“I said no such thing.”
Rosa looked at her.
“You absolutely did.”
Margaret began snoring theatrically.
Nathaniel carried Lily to bed.
As he tucked the blanket around her, Lily whispered, “You happy?”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
“Mommy happy?”
“I hope so.”
Lily touched his cheek.
“No bad lady anymore.”
Nathaniel’s chest tightened.
“No.”
“No bad lady.”
Lily closed her eyes.
Then murmured, “Grandma didn’t go boom forever.”
Nathaniel swallowed.
“No.”
“She stayed.”
He returned to the living room.
Rosa stood by the door.
Margaret was already leaving with one of the security guards.
Nathaniel looked at Rosa.
“Second dinner?”
“Next week.”
“Friday?”
“Wednesday.”
“I have a board meeting.”
Rosa raised an eyebrow.
“Then I guess Thursday.”
Nathaniel smiled.
His entire old life had been organized around meetings.
Flights.
Markets.
Deals.
For once, something personal had been allowed to matter too.
As he drove home, he passed the Whitmore estate.
The lights glowed warmly through the windows.
At the top of the staircase, the new handrail caught the light.
Nathaniel no longer saw the place only as where his mother almost died.
It was also where a little girl told the truth.
Where a frightened woman chose courage.
Where his family stopped protecting secrets.
And where the worst betrayal of his life had accidentally opened the door to something he never expected.
May you like
A second chance.
---
