Ryan's POV
Julian's knock was brisk, the kind he used when he had something unusual to say. Ryan Blake, seated behind the broad mahogany desk, barely looked up from the report he was annotating. His pen glided to a halt only when Julian's voice carried an unmistakable note of amusement.
"Boss, I brought someone who insists on seeing the office."
Ryan arched a brow, his patience already thinning from a long day of back-to-back meetings. But then the door opened, and in walked the tiniest, most unexpected guest. A girl—no older than twelve—stood there, clutching the strap of her schoolbag and staring around the wide office with bright, curious eyes.
"This," Julian said with a faint grin, "is Clara."
Ryan blinked, momentarily disarmed. He had expected a client's child, maybe a partner's niece. But this little one carried no trace of entitlement. Instead, she looked at his shelves stacked with awards, the wall-length glass that overlooked the city, the soft leather chairs—and her eyes sparkled as if she had just entered a wonderland.
Clara smiled, hesitant at first but quickly warming. "You're… the boss?" she asked, her voice a mix of awe and innocence.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, studying her. "That's what they call me."
She giggled, a sound so light it seemed to shake something in him loose. When was the last time someone had looked at this place not with calculation or ambition, but pure admiration? Clara's energy was disarming—bright, unfiltered, and strangely refreshing.
Julian gestured. "She's the same kid who called the other day, remember?"
Ryan's eyes softened in recognition. The child with the curious questions, the mischievous humor, the one who had slipped through his guarded tone and drawn out an unexpected laugh. He nodded slowly. "Ah. So you're that Clara."
She beamed as if being remembered by him was the greatest honor. "I just wanted to see where you worked. Julian said it's big, but I didn't know it was this big."
Ryan found himself chuckling, the weariness of the day easing. There was something about her straightforward wonder that struck him—an echo of the simplicity he'd long forgotten in his own life.
Clara's POV
She had never been in a place like this before. The carpet felt so soft under her shoes, the glass walls made the whole city look like a painting, and the quiet hum of the office gave everything an air of importance. Clara hugged her bag to her chest, glancing from the awards on the shelves to the tall man behind the desk.
So this was Ryan Blake. Julian had called him "boss" so casually, but to her, he looked almost like a character from the kinds of books Emily sometimes let her borrow—a figure carved out of elegance and authority. But then he smiled, just faintly, and she realized he wasn't scary at all.
"Do you like it here?" Ryan asked, his voice smooth.
Clara nodded eagerly. "It's amazing! Everyone must be so smart to work in a place like this." She paused, then added shyly, "One day, maybe I could work somewhere like this too."
Julian laughed under his breath, glancing at Ryan. "She's ambitious."
But Ryan didn't laugh. Instead, he looked at Clara with surprising seriousness, as though her dream wasn't something to be brushed aside. "If you study hard and keep that spark, Clara, you could work anywhere you want."
Her cheeks warmed with pride. No adult had ever spoken to her like that before—like her words carried weight.
When the conversation shifted, she couldn't hold in the excitement bubbling inside her. "I passed my entrance exam!" she blurted, almost bouncing on her feet.
Julian raised a brow. "You didn't tell me that."
Clara grinned wider. "I wanted to surprise you. I did really well. Top marks!"
Ryan's lips curved into the kind of smile that transformed his usually composed expression. "Congratulations, Clara. That's no small achievement."
Her heart swelled at the praise. She wanted to tell him every detail about how she had studied late into the night, how Emily had quizzed her, how nervous she had been. Instead, she blurted something else entirely: "Julian said you're really kind, but I think you're even nicer than he told me."
Julian chuckled, shaking his head, but Ryan only leaned forward slightly, eyes warming. "You worked hard, and you deserve to celebrate. How about we go shopping? You can pick anything you like."
Clara gasped. Shopping? With him? Her mind instantly filled with possibilities—new notebooks, maybe shoes, perhaps even a pretty dress. But her heart tugged her in another direction too. "Can I… get something for my sister too?"
Ryan's expression softened even further, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. "Of course."
Ryan's POV
The shopping trip had been meant as a simple gesture, a reward for her effort. But it turned into something more than that. Clara's joy was infectious, her laughter ringing through the aisles as she darted between displays, carefully choosing not just things for herself but thoughtful items for her sister as well.
Ryan found himself watching her more than the shelves. She was so full of life, so unafraid to speak her mind. It reminded him of a world far from boardrooms and negotiations—of innocence, of family, of the kind of bonds money couldn't buy.
By the time they returned, Julian had already arranged the car, and the day was waning into evening. Ryan escorted Clara back to her home, ensuring she arrived before her sister. She waved at him with both hands, her bags swinging at her sides, her smile wide enough to light up the street.
For the first time in a long while, Ryan felt something stir inside him. Not ambition, not duty, but something quieter. A sense of… connection.
Emily's POV
The key turned heavily in the lock, and Emily pushed the door open, shoulders aching from a long day. The office had been relentless, and all she wanted was a warm bath and silence.
But instead, she was greeted by Clara's excited voice.
"Emily! Emily, look!"
Emily blinked as her little sister rushed forward, arms weighed down by shopping bags, her eyes sparkling brighter than the lights above. The apartment, usually so quiet, seemed alive with her energy.
"What is all this?" Emily asked, bewildered as Clara dropped the bags onto the couch, pulling out clothes, notebooks, even a delicate scarf that shimmered under the lamp.
Clara's words tumbled out in a rush. "Julian took me to his office, and I met his boss—Ryan! He's so kind, Emily, you'd like him. And he said congratulations for my results, and then he took me shopping, and he said I could get anything I wanted, and I got some things for you too because I know you need a new scarf for work—see? Isn't it pretty?"
Emily stood frozen, watching the joy radiating from Clara. For a moment, worry prickled at the edges of her mind—the thought of strangers, of how easily Clara trusted. But the sight of her sister's genuine happiness quieted it.
She reached out, smoothing Clara's hair back, her throat tightening. "It's beautiful, Clara. Thank you."
Clara beamed, pressing the scarf into her hands. "You should meet them, Emily. Julian and Ryan. They're not scary at all—they're really nice. And they made me feel… safe."
Emily's heart softened. The weight of the day seemed to slip from her shoulders, replaced by something else: gratitude. Gratitude that Clara had found kindness in a world that often felt harsh. Gratitude that she could smile this brightly.
She pulled Clara into her arms, holding her close. "I'm glad you're happy, little one."
As Clara chattered about the grand office and Ryan's promises, her voice fading into drowsy murmurs against Emily's shoulder, Emily felt something she hadn't in a long time—a yearning. A quiet wish to meet these people who had given her sister such joy.
Maybe, just maybe, they could be the kind of friends she had long stopped believing existed.