I nodded.
“Then we’ll give you time.”
She frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you won’t have to choose between working here and being at their school.”
She stared at me.
“I can adjust your schedule.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I own the place.”
For the first time, she laughed.
It was small.
But it was real.
“That’s a very Rossi answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
She smiled again.
And I walked away.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Not because of Tessa.
Because of myself.
I walked through the silent house at two in the morning.
The marble floors reflected the chandeliers.
The paintings on the walls were worth more than most houses.
The kitchen was larger than the apartment where I had lived during college.
I opened the refrigerator.
It was full.
I opened the pantry.
It was full.
I opened a drawer and found imported chocolate I hadn’t touched in months.
Then I remembered Tessa’s bag lying upside down on the marble.
Bread.
Fruit.
Sandwiches.
Three notebooks.
And the fear in her eyes when I had grabbed the bag.
I had thought she was afraid because she had been caught stealing.
She had actually been afraid because I had exposed the only thing she had managed to protect from the world.
Her dignity.
The next morning, I called my attorney.
Then my estate manager.
Then the head of payroll.
I told them I wanted a new employee assistance program.
Not a charity fund.
Not a publicity project.
An employee assistance program.
Emergency housing support.
School expenses.
Transportation.
Medical assistance.
Childcare.
Food.
And every request would be handled privately.
My estate manager stared at me.
“How much are you authorizing?”
“Enough.”
“That isn’t a number.”
“Then find one.”
He looked confused.
I understood why.
I had never asked what enough meant before.
That afternoon, I walked into the kitchen.
Tessa was cleaning the counter.
“Mr. Rossi?”
“I need your opinion.”
She blinked.
“My opinion?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“I’m setting up a support program for employees.”
Her expression changed.
“You’re doing that because of me.”
“No.”
She looked unconvinced.
