Chapter 15 Donovan
DONOVAN
It’s the small things I notice first.
Her toothbrush in Dad’s bathroom, electric blue next to our plain white ones.
A stack of books on the library side table that weren’t there last week—contemporary fiction, not our usual business reads.
The coffee mug she claims every morning, cream ceramic with a chip on the handle that she runs her thumb over while she drinks.
She’s nesting. Making herself at home in our space without even realizing she’s doing it.
Five days since that first night in Dad’s bedroom, and Samantha Allen has woven herself into the fabric of our daily lives with surprising ease.
I watch her at breakfast, laughing at something Kai says. The nervous energy from that first week has melted.
She belongs here.
The thought should concern me more than it does.
I still don’t know what her endgame is. Still catch her staring into space with that conflicted expression. Still see her hide her phone when any of us walk into a room.
But she’s here. In our home. In our beds. And with each passing day, she’s sinking deeper into this life we’ve offered her.
Her phone buzzes on the table, and she glances at the screen before silencing it.
“That’s the fourth call this morning,” I observe.
She sets down her fork. “I know.”
“Your boss?” Dad asks, not looking up from his tablet.
“Yes.”
“You’ve been avoiding him for over a week,” I continue. “At some point, you’ll need to deal with that.”
Samantha’s jaw tightens. “I know that too.”
The phone buzzes again. Same number.
Kai reaches across and flips it face down. “Just answer and get it over with. The guy’s clearly not giving up.”
She picks up the phone and stares at it as if it might bite her. Then she stands and walks toward the windows, pressing accept.
“Hi, David.” Her voice is tight. “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t—”
We can’t hear the other side, but we can see her shoulders tense as her boss apparently unleashes whatever frustration has been building.
“I understand that you need—” She tries to interrupt. “David, please—”
More silence while he talks.
“I’m not coming back right after Christmas. Something came up and—”
Her boss cuts her off again, and I see her hand tighten on the phone.
“That’s not fair. I’ve been with the firm for three years. I’ve never taken more than a few days off—”
Whatever he says next makes her face go pale.
“You can’t do that. I have contracts—” Pause. “David, please. If you’ll just let me explain—”
She’s losing ground. I can see it in the way she’s holding herself. The way her voice is getting smaller with each interruption.
Dad catches my eye, and I see the calculation there. He’s thinking the same thing I am.
“I’ll call you back,” Samantha says finally. “I need to think—” But her boss has already hung up.
She stands there for a long moment, staring at the phone.
“What did he say?” Dad’s voice is calm.
She turns, and I see frustration and fear warring on her face. “That if I’m not back in the office by January second, I don’t have a job anymore. They’re already interviewing replacements.”
“Can he do that?” Kai asks.
“Technically, I’m on unauthorized leave.” She sinks back into her chair. “I was supposed to be back last week. He’s been covering my accounts, but he says clients are asking questions.”
“So go back.” I keep my tone neutral. “Handle it.”
She looks at me like I suggested she jump off a cliff. “I don’t want to go back.”
There it is. The admission we’ve been waiting for.
“Why not?” Dad sets down his tablet, giving her his full attention.
“Because…” She struggles with the words. “Because I don’t want to leave here. I don’t want to leave you.”
“Then don’t,” Dad says simply.
“It’s not that simple. I have a career. Bills. An apartment—”
“All of which can be handled.” Dad leans back in his chair. “Unless you actually want to return to Chicago and your old life.”
“I don’t.” No hesitation. “But I can’t just not work. I’m not—I don’t want to be some kept woman living off—”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting.” Dad’s voice is firm. “I’m offering you a job.”
Samantha blinks. “What?”
“A real position. In our operations.” He gestures to me. “Donovan’s been managing brand strategy for our acquisitions, but he doesn’t have the bandwidth. We need someone who understands marketing, consumer psychology, and how to position companies for growth.”
I watch her process this.
“We’re acquiring three companies in the next quarter,” I add. “Tech, retail, and hospitality. Each one needs a complete brand overhaul. Your campaign for the AI assistant—the philosophy debate—that showed strategic thinking we can use.”
“You want me to do marketing for your acquisitions?” She’s trying to understand if this is real.
“I want you to lead brand strategy,” Dad corrects. “Full-time position. Remote work from here. You’d have a team, a budget, and autonomy to execute your vision.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.” He spreads his hands. “You’re good at what you do. We need someone good. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“What about salary?” She’s being practical now. Smart.
I pull up the offer on my tablet and turn it toward her. “This is what we’re proposing.”
Her eyes widen when she sees the number. “That’s three times what I make now.”
“That’s market rate for this level of responsibility,” I say. “Plus benefits. Health insurance. Retirement matching. Standard package.”
She’s staring at the tablet with wide eyes. “This is a real offer.”
“Did you think we were joking?” Kai grins. “Dad doesn’t joke about business.”
“I just—” She looks between the three of us. “Why would you offer me this?”
“Because you’re qualified,” Dad says. “And because we want you here.”
The last part hangs in the air. Personal and professional mixing in ways that would make HR nervous in any normal company.
But we’re not a normal company.
“When would I start?” she asks.
“Immediately. We’ll draw up the paperwork today.” Dad stands. “But first, you need to quit your current job properly.”
She looks down at her phone. “David’s going to lose his mind.”
“Let him.” I lean forward. “You don’t owe him anything beyond professional courtesy. Give him notice and move on.”
She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Yes. I’ll do it.”
“You’re sure?” Dad’s giving her one last chance to back out.
“I’m sure.” Her voice is steady now. “I want this. The job, the life here. All of it.”
“Good.” Dad moves around the table and kisses the top of her head. “Call your boss. We’ll give you privacy.”
We file out of the dining room, leaving her alone with her phone and the decision that’s about to change everything.
In the hallway, Kai pumps his fist. “She’s staying.”
“She’s binding herself to us,” I correct. “Financially. Professionally. Completely.”
“Same thing.” Kai’s grinning. “This is perfect.”
Dad’s expression is more measured. “Donovan’s right. She just tied her entire life to this family. Her income, her career trajectory, her living situation—all of it depends on us now.”
“You think she realizes that?” I ask.
“She will.” Dad glances back toward the dining room. “Hopefully she doesn’t regret it.”
“She won’t.” Kai’s confidence is absolute. “She wants this as much as we do.”
I’m not so sure. But I keep that thought to myself.
We head to Dad’s office to draft the employment paperwork. The offer needs to be legitimate with actual job responsibilities, clear expectations, and everything above board in case anyone ever looks too closely at our operations.
Through the windows, I can see snow still falling. The blizzard that trapped Samantha here shows no signs of letting up. Even if she wanted to leave now, she couldn’t.
But after this, she won’t want to leave at all.
We’re halfway through the contract when Samantha appears in the doorway. “I did it,” she says. “I quit.”
“How did it go?” Dad asks.
“Badly.” She laughs, but it sounds strained. “David threatened to blacklist me in the industry. Said I was making a huge mistake. Told me I’d come crawling back within a month.”
“Will you?” I watch her face carefully.
“No.” Her voice is firm. “I’m done with that life. I want to be here.”
“Good.” Dad gestures to the chair across from his desk. “Sit. We need to go over your contract.”