“Nick says the maintenance assumptions are too optimistic.”
“Are they?”
“Possibly.”
Frances smiled.
“Progress.”
Maggie frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you've found someone who takes your work seriously enough to disagree with it.”
Maggie looked toward Nicholas's office.
Through the glass partition, she could see him speaking on the telephone.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, his tie loosened.
She watched him for a moment.
Frances followed her gaze.
Then quietly returned to her paperwork.
When Nicholas opened the door, his expression brightened.
“Maggie.”
“Don't sound too pleased. I've brought more numbers.”
“Wonderful.”
“You're a terrible liar.”
He laughed.
She followed him inside.
They worked until nearly nine.
Eventually, Maggie dropped her pencil.
“I can't look at another column of figures.”
Nicholas leaned back.
“Agreed.”
She looked toward the windows.
The city glowed beyond the glass.
“Do you ever get tired of being up here?”
“Sometimes.”
“It's beautiful.”
“Yes.”
She approached the window.
From the thirty-eighth floor, the city seemed almost peaceful.
Cars became tiny points of light.
Buildings dissolved into the darkness.
Somewhere below, millions of people were eating dinner, falling in love, arguing, working late, and trying to make sense of their lives.
Maggie rested her hand against the glass.
“I used to think people with offices like this had everything figured out.”
Nicholas stood beside her.
“And now?”
She glanced at his desk.
The scattered papers.
The cold coffee.
The jacket thrown carelessly over a chair.
“Now I think you're just as confused as everyone else. You have better furniture.”
He laughed.
“That's fair.”
She turned.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why are you really helping me?”
He looked at her.
“Because your proposal has merit.”
“That isn't the whole answer.”
“No.”
She waited.
Nicholas glanced toward the city.
“Because I spent years telling myself that doing what was practical was the same as doing what was right.”
Maggie listened.
“And because the first time I walked through the Starlight with you, I remembered something I'd nearly forgotten.”
“What?”
“That buildings are full of people. Even when they're empty.”
Her expression softened.
Nicholas looked back at her.
“And because I like being around you.”
Maggie's heart skipped.
He continued.
“I like the way you see things. I like that you laugh at my jokes when they're actually funny and refuse when they aren't.”
She smiled.
“And I like that you never seem particularly impressed by my name.”
Maggie looked down.
“Nick.”
He moved closer.