Chapter 15.
Victoria accepted the slim white box from the delivery courier in the hallway, signed the digital receipt with a quick flourish, and offered a polite thank-you.
The man nodded and disappeared toward the elevators without lingering.
She closed the suite door quietly behind her and walked into the wide living space.
Danny stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows with his back to the room.
From this height the Pacific was visible in a silver-blue band beyond the intervening blocks of the city…
twenty blocks away at least, but clear enough that the water caught the late-morning light.
He had not moved since she left to answer the door.
His shoulders were still set in that slightly defensive line she was already beginning to recognize.
She crossed the polished floor and stopped a few feet from him, the unopened phone box held loosely in both hands.
“Your new phone,” she said.
Danny turned. His eyes dropped to the box, then lifted back to her face. The expression there was still half-disbelieving, as if every new object that entered this suite might vanish if he looked at it too long.
Victoria smiled, small and steady. “I can set it up for you. Transfer your contacts, clean out the old junk, get everything working the way it should. You won’t have to think about it.”
He nodded once. “Thank you.”
She stepped closer. The height difference made it natural for her to rise onto the balls of her feet as she leaned in and kissed him again… soft, closed-mouthed, lingering only a second longer than the last one. When she drew back her voice was a quiet murmur meant only for him.
“I am here for you. Remember, I am your assistant.”
Danny’s throat worked. He nodded again.
Victoria turned and walked to the long sofa that faced the view.
She sat, crossed one leg over the other, and opened the box with clean, practiced movements.
The phone inside was slim, matte black, and heavier than it looked.
She powered it on, connected it to the suite’s secure network, and began the setup sequence while Danny remained at the window, watching the distant water as if it might offer answers.
After a few minutes she looked up.
“You’ll have a new number,” she said. “Is there anyone you specifically do not want to have it?”
Danny closed his eyes. A long breath left him.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “A few people.”
He began naming them. Some were women he had spent nights with over the years…
brief, uneven things that had ended badly.
One had cheated without apology. Another had treated him like a temporary convenience and then ghosted the moment something better appeared.
A couple of old acquaintances from the factory who had only ever called when they needed a shift covered or a ride.
Victoria typed each name into a private exclusion list without comment, her expression neutral and professional.
When the list was finished, Danny opened his eyes and looked at her directly.
“And make sure Tanya has my number,” he said, voice lower.
Victoria’s mouth curved in a small, knowing smirk. “Someone special?”
He shook his head quickly. “No. She’s a good friend. I’m not sure she ever saw me that way.”
“But you did?”
Danny’s gaze drifted back toward the window. “Yeah. For a long time. I never pressed it. Didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”
Victoria nodded once, as if filing the information in a place she would not forget. She returned her attention to the phone and began composing the outgoing messages that would introduce the new number to the approved contacts. Most were short, clean, and impersonal:
This is Danny Hollinger’s new number. Please update your contacts.
When she reached Tanya’s name she paused. Her thumbs moved more carefully.
The message she sent was still restrained… nothing that revealed money, status, or the sudden change in Danny’s circumstances… but it carried a different weight:
Hey Tanya, it’s Danny. Got a new number and wanted to make sure you had it. Would be good to talk when you have a minute. Hope you’re doing well.
She added his new number at the bottom and sent it before Danny could ask to see the wording.
He never needed to know she had softened the edges or left the door slightly more open than the others.
If the woman on the other end had ever felt even a fraction of what Danny had quietly carried, the message would give her room to answer. If not, nothing was lost.
Victoria continued through the rest of the list in silence.
Behind her, Danny remained at the glass, the new phone still in her hands, the old cracked one already powered down and set aside on the coffee table like a relic.
The suite was quiet except for the soft chime of messages leaving and the distant, constant hush of the city far below.
She did not tell him that part of her role… spoken and unspoken… was to make sure he did not stay lonely in this new life. Whether that loneliness ended with Tanya or with someone else was still an open question. Victoria simply intended to keep the path clear.
When the last message was sent she locked the phone, set it on the cushion beside her, and looked over at the man by the window.
“It’s ready whenever you want it,” she said.
Danny turned. For a moment he only looked at her…
at the small blonde woman who had walked into his old apartment that morning and was now calmly rewriting the practical details of his existence.
Then he crossed the room and sat on the opposite end of the sofa, close enough that the quiet warmth between them remained, far enough that he still had space to breathe.
Victoria picked up the new phone again and held it out.
“Your life,” she said softly. “One piece at a time.”
Danny took it. The screen was clean, unmarked, and already filled with the numbers of the people he had chosen to keep.
Somewhere in the city a woman named Tanya would open a message that was just personal enough to matter.
And in the high suite that smelled of new money and clean linens, Victoria sat with the man she had chosen to stay beside, already thinking three steps ahead about everything he had not yet asked for.
---
Dani waited until the corridor outside the private offices was empty before she reached into her jacket pocket and drew out the four folded napkins. She held them out to Constance without ceremony.
Constance accepted the small stack, eyebrows lifting as she counted.
“Only four,” she said, a faint smile touching her mouth. “I am surprised.”
Dani’s own smile was dry and knowing. “I am sure if he had been more openly flirty he would have collected a lot more. But he carried himself well last night. He was polite, he listened, he bought rounds, and he never once acted like the room owed him anything. That kind of restraint keeps the numbers lower… and the quality higher.”
Constance unfolded the first napkin, glancing at the name and number written in looping red ink, then looked back at Dani.
“So,” she said quietly, “any of them I should be particularly aware of? As far as him showing actual interest?”
Dani’s posture shifted into the precise, observational mode she used when delivering field reports. She had spent two hours watching every approach, every smile, every lingering look while remaining invisible herself. The details were still sharp.
“Two of them,” she answered. “The rest were polite or mildly opportunistic. These two registered differently.”
She tapped the first napkin.
“Lisa. Redhead. Mid-twenties. She was the first to approach after the initial wave of thank-yous. Outspoken. Very direct. She sat down beside him without asking, ordered a beer on his tab like it was already her right, and started flirting in the open. Knee brushes, lingering eye contact, low laughter. She left her number last and made sure he saw her do it. No physical contact beyond the accidental-on-purpose touches, but the intent was unmistakable. She wanted him to know exactly where she stood.”
Constance nodded slowly, filing the description away. “And the other?”
“Winnie. Brunette. Younger… early twenties. She was the one who kissed him.” Dani’s voice stayed neutral, but the memory of the moment was clear.
“She waited longer than the others. Came over with pink cheeks and a little speech about her sister who works in the tower… administrative level, lower floors. Said her sister told her everything feels better now. That people aren’t afraid of random cuts, that managers actually answer things, that the job feels like it matters again because the man at the top called them family and meant it.
Then she rose up on her toes and kissed him.
Corner of the mouth. Soft. Quick. She looked almost shocked at herself afterward and hurried back to her friends. ”
Constance’s expression softened a fraction at the detail about the sister. That kind of organic loyalty mattered.
“Thank you,” she said.
Dani hesitated only a second before continuing, voice dropping lower.
“If I may be so bold…”
Constance gave a small nod of permission.
“Lisa,” Dani said. “She is the kind of girl who could rock his world without trying to pin him down. There is a real hunger there… to be part of whatever orbit he is in… but it does not feel like the desperate kind. I ran a quiet background check after we returned. She is not hurting for money. Stable job, clean record, no obvious angles. She comes across as the loyal type once she decides someone is worth it. The kind who will match energy instead of demanding it. If he ever decides to call one of those numbers, she is the one who will not make the aftermath complicated.”
Constance studied the redhead’s napkin for a moment longer, then slipped all four into the slim leather folder she carried.
“Good information,” she said. “I will keep it in mind.”