Part 3
The rest of the evening passed in a quiet, fragile sort of peace.
Jenna insisted on cleaning up the kitchen, and this time, Nathan didn't argue.
He knew that if he didn't let her work, her pride wouldn't let her stay.
Instead, he joined her.
The billionaire founder of Calloway Holdings stood at a sink, washing dishes by hand while a woman who earned fifteen dollars an hour dried them.
If the papers could see him now, they would think he had suffered a stroke.
But Nathan hadn't felt this clear-headed in years.
Daisy sat at the kitchen island, swinging her legs, coloring on a piece of scrap paper Nathan had found for her.
"Mr. Calloway?" Daisy called out.
"Just Nathan, Daisy," he replied, rinsing a crystal wine glass.
"Nathan, do you have a big car?"
"I have a few," he admitted.
"Do they have heaters?"
Nathan paused, the water running over his hands.
He looked at Jenna.
She had her back to him, but he could see her shoulders tense up.
"Yes, Daisy. They have very good heaters."
"That's nice," the little girl said, completely satisfied with the answer.
"Our apartment is cold. Mommy gives me all the blankets, but then she coughs at night."
"Daisy, that's enough," Jenna said quickly, her voice tight.
"Go put your crayons in your pocket. It’s time to go home."
Nathan didn't say anything more.
He didn't want to make Jenna feel any more uncomfortable than she already did.
When the kitchen was spotless, Jenna gathered their things.
She wrapped Daisy in the worn winter coat that was clearly a size too small.
"Thank you for the dinner, Nathan," Jenna said, using his name for the first time.
It sounded nice coming from her.
"Let me drive you home," Nathan offered, already reaching for his keys.
"No, please. The bus stop is just at the corner. The snow has stopped."
"Jenna, it’s past ten o'clock on Christmas Eve."
"We always take the bus," she said firmly.
There was a wall around her, built from years of having to survive on her own.
Nathan recognized that wall.
He had built one just like it around himself, though his was made of money and success.
He knew better than to push too hard.
"Alright," he said, stepping back.
"But promise me you'll call a cab if the bus is late. I'll pay for it tomorrow."
"We'll be fine. Goodnight, Nathan."
"Goodnight, Mommy's friend!" Daisy waved happily.
Nathan watched them walk down the long, sweeping driveway of his estate.
Two small figures against the massive expanse of snow.
The house immediately felt ten times larger and a hundred times colder the moment the door clicked shut.
He walked into his study.
He didn't turn on the lights.
He just sat in his leather chair, staring out the window at the city lights in the distance.
Then, he pulled out his phone.
He dialed a number he knew by heart.
"Sir?" a voice answered on the second ring. It was Marcus, his personal assistant and head of security.
"Marcus. I need you to find out where Jenna Carter lives."
"The cleaning lady from the agency, sir?"
"Yes. And Marcus?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Find out everything about her situation. Her rent, her debts, her daughter's school."
"I want the report by seven tomorrow morning."
"Consider it done, sir. Merry Christmas."
Nathan hung up.
He looked down at his desk.
The tiny, broken candy cane was resting on top of a mahogany organizer.
He picked it up, broke off a small piece, and ate it.
May you like
It was sweet.
Sweeter than anything he had tasted in a very long time.
