Chapter 17
Nolan laughed.
“You're terrible at comforting people.”
“I brought ice cream.”
“That's better.”
She handed him the carton.
“Do you regret it?”
He thought about the question.
“The disclosure?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“The fund?”
“No.”
“Marrying me?”
“Constantly.”
She hit him with a cushion.
He caught her wrist and pulled her toward him.
She laughed.
Then he became serious.
“I spent half my life believing losing money was the worst possible evidence that I'd made a bad decision.”
“And now?”
“Sometimes losing money means you're finally paying a bill you ignored.”
Mara kissed him.
“That was almost profound.”
“I married well.”
“You did.”
Four years later, Owen Ellison stood at a podium inside the Thomas Ellison Craft Institute.
Mara sat in the front row.
Nolan beside her.
Owen was no longer the sleepy boy gripping the hallway rail while a billionaire stood outside their apartment.
He was twenty-one.
He had completed his apprenticeship.
Then studied industrial design.
Now he was launching something new.
The Ellison Cooperative.
A worker-owned furniture company operating from one of the buildings restored through the Pierce North fund.
Behind Owen stood forty-two employees.
Not line items.
People.
Owen looked toward Mara.
Then Nolan.
“My father died when I was young.”
Mara's eyes filled.
“He wasn't my biological father.”
Nolan glanced at her.
“But Thomas Ellison raised me.”
Owen smiled.
“He taught me that making something well means respecting every hand that touches it.”
He looked toward the workers behind him.
“This company belongs to those hands.”
Applause filled the room.
Mara cried.
Nolan pretended he wasn't.
“You're crying,” she whispered.
“Air quality.”
“Inside a renovated factory?”
“Dust.”
“There is no dust.”
“Extremely emotional dust.”
She laughed through her tears.
After the ceremony, Owen approached them.
He hugged Mara.
Then he looked at Nolan.
For years, their relationship had been careful.
Nolan never tried to replace Thomas.
That was perhaps the reason Owen eventually made room for him.
Owen held out a small wooden box.
“For you.”
Nolan opened it.
Inside was a fountain pen.
Handmade.
Walnut.
On the side were four engraved words.
READ THE WHOLE CONTRACT.
Nolan laughed.
Mara nearly collapsed.
“You put him up to this.”
“I swear I didn't.”
Owen grinned.
Nolan held the pen.
Then looked at him.
“Thank you.”
Owen shrugged.
“You'll need it.”
“Why?”
He handed Nolan a folder.
Nolan opened it.
His face changed.
“What is this?”
“Investment proposal.”
Owen smiled.