Chapter 10 - THE FIRST THING DOMINIC EVER GAVE NORA THAT COST NOTHINGNora chose a Mexican restaurant in Queens.
Dominic stared at the address.
Then at Arthur.
“Is this revenge?”
Arthur smiled.
“Probably.”
“No private room.”
“No.”
“No valet.”
“No.”
“Forty-minute drive.”
“Traffic permitting.”
Dominic looked wounded.
“Enjoy your date.”
Nora arrived six minutes late.
Dominic had arrived twenty minutes early.
She wore a green wrap dress beneath a black coat.
No designer label he recognized.
Not that he checked.
Much.
“You're staring,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He considered several answers.
Then chose the least dangerous.
“You look beautiful.”
Nora’s expression softened.
“Thank you.”
They sat.
Nobody recognized Dominic immediately.
That helped.
The restaurant was loud.
Birthday music.
Children.
Plates clattering.
Dominic’s old life had trained him to prefer rooms where every sound could be identified.
Nora preferred rooms where nobody cared he existed.
He discovered he liked that more than expected.
“So,” she said.
“So.”
“Was prison terrible?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He stared.
“Personal growth remains violent around you.”
“You pleaded guilty.”
“Fair.”
He smiled.
Then they talked.
Not about Gideon first.
Not about poison.
Work.
Nora loved emergency planning more than she expected.
“People think safety is boring.”
“It is.”
She glared.
“Then something happens.”
“A worker collapses.”
“A child chokes.”
“A fire alarm fails.”
“A hotel has six hundred guests and two employees who know CPR.”
She leaned forward.
“Then suddenly boring is the most valuable thing in the building.”
Dominic watched her.
“What?”
she asked.
“You're good at this.”
“I know.”
He smiled.
Nora had changed.
Or perhaps she had always been like this and he had never given her a context where he bothered noticing.
That thought was uncomfortable.
Good.
She asked:
“What are you doing now?”
“Vale Holdings.”
“Still?”
“Legitimate parts.”
“Which?”
“Real estate.”
“Restaurants.”
“Warehousing under independent compliance.”
“Shipping?”
“Reduced.”
“Crime?”
He looked at her.
“No.”
“Do you miss it?”
Long silence.
“Parts.”
Nora nodded.
She appreciated the honesty.
“What parts?”
“Certainty.”
She waited.
“When men feared me, I knew where I stood.”
“That doesn't mean you knew where they stood.”
Dominic frowned.
“What?”
“They lied because they were scared.”
“They agreed because they were scared.”
“They smiled because they were scared.”
Nora took a drink.
“You had certainty about yourself.”
“Not them.”
That landed.
“Do you miss the power?”
“Yes.”
Again.
Honest.
“But I don't miss what it required.”
“Good.”
“What about you?”
“What?”
“Do you miss the residence?”
Nora laughed.
“The view.”
“Not me?”
“You were rarely home.”
“Cruel.”
“The laundry machines.”
“I can buy you—”
He stopped.
Nora grinned.
“Physical pain?”
“Significant.”
“Growth.”
Dinner lasted three hours.
Afterward they walked two blocks.
Cold night.
Nora tucked her hands into her coat pockets.
Dominic said:
“I want to hold your hand.”
She looked at him.
“That was very formal.”
“I am attempting civilization.”
“Needs work.”
Then she held out her hand.
He took it.
Not triumph.
Not possession.
Simply warm fingers inside his.
At her car:
“I want to kiss you.”
Nora smiled.
“Better.”
“Is that yes?”
“No.”
His expression changed.
“Okay.”
She watched him accept it.
No question.
No persuasion.
Then:
“Ask next time.”
Hope appeared instantly.
“There’s a next time?”
“Maybe.”
“You're enjoying this.”
“Profoundly.”
The second date was at a comedy show.
Dominic hated crowd participation.
The comedian chose him.
Nora nearly died laughing when Dominic was asked what he did for a living.
“Warehousing.”
The comedian stared at his suit.
“Sir, you look like you warehouse witnesses.”
The room exploded.
Nora laughed until tears ran down her face.
Dominic considered buying the building and closing it.
Did not.
Progress.
Outside:
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
He did.
Carefully.
Nora touched his chest automatically.
Then froze.
The same chest that had stopped beneath his walnut dining table.
Dominic noticed.
“I'm okay.”
“I know.”
Her fingers remained there a second longer.
“Your contract still monitors me.”
“Our contract.”
“I pay now.”
“Yes.”
“And my last physical was excellent.”
“Good.”
Then she kissed him again.
They dated slowly.
Separate homes.
Separate money.
No Vale-controlled job.
No emergency deadline.
Dominic made mistakes.
Four months in, Nora had a late-night site visit at a warehouse in Newark.
Dominic quietly sent security.
She discovered them.
Called immediately.
“Remove them.”
“No.”
Silence.
He closed his eyes.
“Wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I was worried.”
“Allowed.”
“The site had a robbery last month.”
“Tell me.”
“Don't track me secretly.”
“Okay.”
Security left.
Dominic hated every mile.
Accepted it.
Nora made mistakes too.
A year later Hamilton Mercer offered her a national role.
Chicago-based.
Frequent travel.
She nearly declined without telling Dominic.
Then she caught herself.
They sat in her apartment.
“I got an offer.”
“Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look miserable?”
“Because it means traveling three weeks some months.”
“Okay.”
“What about us?”
“We find out.”
“That easy?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“But you do not shrink your career because we’re afraid of scheduling.”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“Disturbingly healthy.”
“Therapy.”
“Still?”
“Forever, apparently.”
She took the role.
They survived missed flights.
Bad FaceTime.
Canceled dinners.
Normal frustration.
Beautifully ordinary problems.
Two years after Dominic’s release, Nora left Hamilton Mercer.
Not because of him.
Because she wanted something of her own.
She founded Bennett Workplace Safety & Response.
Five employees.
Then twelve.
Then thirty.
Warehouses.
Hotels.
Factories.
Corporate offices.
Her first major contract was not Vale Holdings.
She refused.
Dominic was offended.
“Conflict of interest.”
“I would pay full price.”
“Exactly.”
Six months later, after she had twelve unrelated clients and a formal procurement process, Vale Holdings submitted a bid request.
Bennett won.
Not because Dominic chose it.
An independent committee did.
He celebrated as though he personally had.
Nora reminded him he had legally abstained.
Still.
One night after her company’s first anniversary party, Dominic walked her home.
He stopped beneath her building awning.
“I love you.”
Nora became still.
No gun.
No hospital.
No black card.
No crisis.
Just rain.
Dominic waited.
He did not add pressure.
Nora smiled.
“I love you too.”
His entire face changed.
Then:
“Really?”
“Do not ruin this.”
He laughed.
Nora kissed him.
And for the first time in his life, Dominic understood the strangest thing about love.
May you like
The most valuable thing another person could give him was something his money could never force.
A free yes.
