The room falls into stunned silence.

“Living?” Ariel repeats, her eyebrows shooting up.

Ms. Tina gasps, clutching her imaginary pearls. “A woman living with us? It’s been years!”

“Oh my God, this is awesome!” Sydney squeals. “I hope she likes the color pink!”

“I wonder if she knows how to do hair,” Ariel muses. “Or maybe she can take us to a nail salon during lunch breaks!”

“Hey,” I interrupt, feeling mildly offended. “I like pink. I know how to do hair. And I have nail techs come to the house once a month.”

“It’s not the same, Dad. Oh, my goodness, Grandma. Thank you for finding us a teacher. Dad’s rejected every application that’s come through.”

“I know, honey. Grandma’s got everything under control. This woman has tons of experience working with kids! And from our brief conversation, I can tell she’s got plenty of spunk! I think everyone in this house is gonna love her.”

I grunt. “I doubt that. She’ll be gone in a week. Now, no junk food after 8 o’clock. They were bouncing off the walls last time.”

“Huh? What’d you say?” She playfully dismisses me. “I’m too busy thinking about all the candy we’re gonna eat.”

Mom and the girls chuckle while I finish getting dressed and prepare to suffer through an evening of fake pleasantries.

As I straighten my tie one last time, the rumble of laughter from my family fades into the background, replaced by the soft closing of my bedroom door. I stride toward the foyer, where my driver, Gary, awaits with a knowing smile.

“You ready to have some fun tonight, Mr. Grimes?” Gary asks, opening the door for me with a flourish.

“Fun? What’s that?” I chuckle dryly, the concept feeling foreign after years of solitude.

Gary, who’s been with me for over a decade, gives me a pointed look through the rearview mirror as we drive. “It’s what you used to be all about, Sir. The fun, charming ladies’ man who settled down and fell in love. Maybe you’ll meet a woman and fall head over heels again.”

I shrug dismissively, staring out at the passing streetlights. “Those kinds of things only happen once in a lifetime, Gary.”

“Mr. Grimes, you’ve lived more lifetimes in your years than many do in several. You deserve to find happiness again. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone tonight is a good start.”

His words linger in the air, a gentle nudge toward a future I’ve been reluctant to imagine. We pull up to Waylen’s Flower Shop, a grand establishment adorned with vibrant floral displays that cast a warm glow onto the street. The shop is right next to the land I recently purchased for the new restaurant—a constant reminder of the pressure to succeed in my professional and personal life.