Marcus had not thought about what to say. "I'm here about Elena Rodriguez. She works here, right?" 

Mrs. Patterson's expression became protective. "Elena is an excellent employee. If there's been some kind of complaint—" 

"No complaint," Marcus said quickly. "Actually, I wanted to tell you how impressed I am with her. She worked at an event at my house last night. She was extraordinary." 

Mrs. Patterson relaxed a little. "Elena is special, that's for sure. She's wonderful with our residents. They all love her. She's been working here for several years now." 

"Several years?" Marcus was surprised. He had assumed Elena was just doing temporary work while she figured out her career. 

"Oh, yes. Elena is very dedicated. She never misses work, even when she's sick. She often works overtime when we need extra help. The residents trust her completely." 

Marcus was beginning to understand something. Elena was not just working at the nursing home temporarily. This was her real job, her career. She had been taking care of elderly people for years. 

"Could I... could I see her?" Marcus asked. "Just to say hello." 

Mrs. Patterson looked at Marcus suspiciously. "Are you a friend of Elena's?" 

Marcus hesitated. "Not exactly. I'm... I'm someone who appreciates her talents." 

This was a strange answer, but Mrs. Patterson decided to allow it. She led Marcus down a hallway lined with wheelchairs and walkers. The smell of disinfectant mixed with the sounds of televisions and quiet conversations. 

They found Elena in the activity room. She was sitting at a small table with an elderly man, helping him work on a puzzle. She was wearing simple scrubs and comfortable shoes. Her hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail. She looked completely different from the elegant woman who had played piano at his party. 

But as Marcus watched her interact with the elderly man, he saw the same gentleness that had been in her music. She spoke to the man with patience and kindness. When he struggled to find the right puzzle piece, she encouraged him with a warm smile. 

"Elena," Mrs. Patterson called. "You have a visitor." 

Elena looked up and saw Marcus. Her face showed surprise, then confusion, then something that might have been annoyance. She excused herself from the puzzle table and walked over to them. 

"Mr. Whitmore," she said formally. "What are you doing here?" 

Mrs. Patterson looked between them curiously, then decided to give them privacy. "I'll be in my office if you need anything," she said, walking away. 

Elena crossed her arms and waited for Marcus to explain himself. He suddenly felt very foolish. What was he doing here? What had he hoped to accomplish? 

"I wanted to see you," he said. "To apologize properly for last night." 

"You already apologized," Elena said. "And I told you it was fine." 

"But it's not fine," Marcus said. "I realize I was incredibly rude. I made assumptions about your life without knowing anything about you." 

Elena glanced around the nursing home. She was clearly uncomfortable having this conversation at her workplace. "Mr. Whitmore, I appreciate you coming here, but I'm working. I can't chat with you right now." 

"When do you get off work?" Marcus asked. 

"Why?" 

"I'd like to buy you coffee or dinner. Just to talk." 

Elena stared at him like he had suggested they fly to the moon. "You want to have dinner with me?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

Marcus struggled to find the right words. "Because you're the most interesting person I've met in years. Because your music last night was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. Because I think there's a lot more to you than serving drinks and... and this." He gestured around the nursing home. 

Elena's expression hardened. "What's wrong with this? What's wrong with taking care of people who need help?" 

"Nothing," Marcus said quickly. "That's not what I meant. I meant... I meant you have other talents, too. Musical talents that... that..." 

"That are being wasted? That I should be using instead of doing this job?" Marcus realized he was making the same mistake again. "I'm sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing." 

Elena sighed. She looked tired, and not just from work. She looked tired in a deep way, like she had been carrying heavy burdens for a long time. 

"Mr. Whitmore," she said gently, "you live in a different world than I do. In your world, if someone has talent, they can just decide to use it. They can just choose to follow their dreams. But in my world, things are more complicated." 

"What do you mean?"