He tapped his fingers against the desk, his mind racing. Instead of calling, he sent a text to Alex. He couldn’t let Fiona suffer could he?
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts again.
"Co in," he said without looking up.
The door opened, and Alex stepped inside. His executive secretary was as polished as ever, dressed in a blue suit with a tablet in hand.
"You called for , sir?" Alex asked, his tone crisp.
Nathan sat back, his gaze shifting to Alex. "I need you to make a call."
Alex nodded, waiting for instructions.
"Contact Campbell University," Nathan said, his voice firm. "Offer Fiona a scholarship."
Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. "Understood. What should I list as the sponsor?"
"Anonymous," Nathan said imdiately. "Make it look like the school is offering it. I don’t want her to know it’s coming from ."
Alex nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. "What kind of scholarship are we talking about? Full tuition?"
"Yes," Nathan said. "Cover everything—tuition, books, fees. Whatever she needs."
Alex hesitated for a mont. "If I may ask... is there a reason for the anonymity?"
Nathan’s paused, hesitating for a second. "She wouldn’t accept it if she knew it was from . Just make it happen."
Alex nodded again, his expression neutral. "I’ll handle it. Anything else?"
"No," Nathan said, waving him off.
Alex left the room, and Nathan leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the photographs again.
He didn’t know if this was the right thing to do. Fiona had made it clear she wanted to be on her own, to figure things out without him. But he couldn’t just sit back and watch her struggle.
This wasn’t about getting her back. It wasn’t about undoing the mistakes he’d made. It was about giving her a chance, a fighting chance, to build the life she deserved.
Nathan closed the envelope and slid it into the drawer of his desk. Fiona didn’t have to know.
#######
Fiona rushed out of her apartnt, her bag slung over one shoulder and her books clutched tightly in her hands. The morning was moving sort of fast. Too fast for her.
She paused on the sidewalk, scanning for an available cab. Her heart sank as she realized the street was nearly empty, except for a few cars speeding past.
"Co on," she muttered under her breath, shifting her bag and checking the ti on her phone. If she didn’t get to the bakery soon, she’d be late—and she couldn’t afford to ss up her first real chance at a job.
Just as she was about to start walking toward the main road, a small golf car pulled up in front of her. It was old but well-kept, the kind of vehicle that looked like it had been cared for over the years.
The driver, an older man with kind eyes and a gentle smile, leaned out the window. "You look like you’re in a hurry, young lady. Where are you headed?"
Fiona hesitated, clutching her books tighter. "Uh... the bakery on Main Street. Mike’s Bakery."
He nodded, his smile widening. "Hop in. I’ll take you."
"Oh, no, I couldn’t—"
"Co on," he interrupted, gesturing to the passenger seat. "You’ll never catch a cab around here this ti of day. I’m heading that way anyway."
Fiona glanced around the empty street, realizing he was probably right. After a mont of hesitation, she nodded. "Okay. Thank you."
She climbed into the golf car, settling her bag on her lap. The seat was comfortable, and the gentle hum of the engine was oddly calming as they pulled away from the curb.
The driver didn’t say much at first, letting Fiona relax as the car wound its way through the quiet streets. She watched the town pass by, the bakery coming into view in the distance.
"You’re new here, aren’t you?" he asked suddenly, his voice warm and steady.
Fiona glanced at him, surprised. "Yeah. I just moved a few weeks ago."
He nodded, his eyes focused on the road. "I thought so. You remind of my daughter."
Fiona blinked, unsure how to respond. "Oh?"
"She was about your age," he said, his voice growing softer. "She was always rushing off sowhere, always busy, always trying to make sothing of herself. She worked so hard, but..." He trailed off, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.
Fiona felt a pang of sympathy in her chest. "What happened?"
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "She got sick. Cancer. We fought it for years, but... it took her in the end."
"I’m so sorry," Fiona said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled faintly, though there was a sadness in his eyes. "Thank you. It’s been a few years now, but I still think about her every day. And then I saw you—standing there, rushing to get sowhere, looking so determined. You remind of her."
Fiona didn’t know what to say, so she stayed quiet, letting his words sink in.
They pulled up in front of the bakery, the neon sign flickering in the morning light.
"Here we are," he said, putting the golf car in park.
Fiona turned to him, fumbling with her bag. "Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?"
He waved her off imdiately. "Nothing. It’s on ."
"Oh, no, I insist—"
"Please," he interrupted, his tone firm but kind. "Let do this. You remind of my daughter, and... maybe it’s fate, giving another chance to help soone like her. I’d like to be your free driver, if you’ll let ."
Fiona stared at him, her heart sinking with a mix of emotions. "I don’t know... that’s too much—"
"It’s not too much," he said, his voice steady. "It’s a gift. You don’t have to accept it right away, but think about it. I’d feel better knowing you had soone to rely on."
She hesitated, biting her lip. "Why ?"
He smiled again, his eyes soft. "Because you remind that life keeps moving forward, no matter what. You’re working hard, just like she did. It only right."
Fiona felt her chest tighten, a lump forming in her throat. After a long mont, she nodded. "Okay. I’ll think about it."
He reached into his pocket and handed her a small card with his number written on it. "Call anyti. I an it."
She took the card, her fingers trembling slightly. "Thank you. Really."
He nodded, his smile widening. "Good luck in there. You’ll do great."
Fiona climbed out of the golf car, clutching her bag and the card tightly. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she turned back to wave.
He waved back before driving off, the golf car disappearing down the street.
Fiona stared at the bakery, her heart pounding. She didn’t know what to make of the encounter—whether it was fate or coincidence—but she couldn’t deny the feeling it left behind. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside the bakery.
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