He had learned not to trust relief.
But this felt different.
Noah wrapped both arms around him.
“You did it.”
Luke held his son tightly.
“No.”
He whispered.
“We did.”
Luke accepted the next morning.
His first day was two weeks later.
Carter Aerospace terrified him.
Not the machines.
Those he understood.
The meetings.
Those were dangerous.
People used phrases like strategic alignment and cross-functional optimization when “talk to the other department” would have worked.
Luke quickly gained a reputation.
During his first leadership meeting, a director said, “We need to leverage synergies between maintenance and production.”
Luke asked, “Does that mean make them share information?”
The room went quiet.
Evelyn covered a smile.
“Yes,” the director said.
“Then maybe say that.”
Afterward, Evelyn found him near the elevator.
“You lasted three hours.”
“What?”
“Before insulting corporate vocabulary.”
“I asked a question.”
“You asked it aggressively.”
“I was confused.”
She smiled.
“You’re going to be interesting.”
Luke became good at the job.
Better than he expected.
He understood technicians because he had been one.
He understood supervisors because he had informally done their work for years without the title.
He learned budgets.
Scheduling.
Executive presentations.
He remained suspicious of PowerPoint.
Noah loved the changes most.
Dental insurance meant braces without panic.
Luke stopped taking weekend repair jobs.
For the first time since his wife’s illness, he came home before six most nights.
He coached baseball.
Helped with homework.
Burned dinner with consistency.
Three months into the job, Noah asked a question over spaghetti.
“Do you see the CEO a lot?”
Luke looked up.
“Sometimes.”
“Evelyn?”
Luke frowned.
“You two on first-name basis now?”
“You call her Evelyn.”
“She told me to.”
“Is she pretty?”
Luke nearly inhaled pasta.
“What?”
Noah grinned.
“You like her.”
“I work for her.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“You’re eight.”
“You didn’t answer.”
Luke pointed toward the plate.
“Eat.”
Noah smiled.
Luke did not like Evelyn.
Not that way.
At least that was the answer he gave himself.
He respected her.
Different thing.
She was smart.
Demanding.
Occasionally funny.
She remembered employees’ names with unsettling accuracy.
She also worked too much.
Far too much.
Luke learned this during a midnight equipment failure four months after starting.
A precision milling system shut down during an urgent production run.
Luke drove to the facility.
At 12:37 a.m., he found Evelyn in the operations center wearing jeans, sneakers, and a black sweater.
He stopped.
“What are you doing here?”
She looked offended.
“My company.”
“You’re the CEO.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly.”
She frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“You’re not fixing the spindle.”