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“You would survive on takeout if it wasn’t for me,” he mused over his shoulder, his focus on the pot on the stove. I wasn’t positive what he was making but I was choosing not to complain. Everyone knew I was hopeless when it came to cooking and was lucky I hadn’t burned down my home in my few attempts to do so.

I had bought the old firehouse over five years ago and had made the building my own little studio. My bed rested in the loft that sat over the kitchen, only accessible via a small spiral staircase. There was an honest-to-God fire pole from the loft down to the main floor. I was sitting on my couch, watching Fai maneuver around my kitchen with ease. He and his wife brought me dinner a few times a week, but today it was just him, though he had mentioned Oliver might be stopping by later.

Fai was the closest thing I had to a father. He had taken me under his wing when I had shown up on his doorstep asking for a job at only fifteen years old. I had no idea why he had given me a chance. I didn’t have references, a résumé, or a valid ID when he hired me. But here we were twelve years later, and not only had he hired me, but he handed me the business five years ago, entrusting its success to me.

While he wasn’t old enough to be my father—just over a decade older than me—he had shown up for me in every way I thought a father should, even trying to beat down the massive walls I had built around my heart and force himself in.

“How’s Sarah?” I asked, bringing up his favorite topic, also known as his wife.

Fai smiled wide, turning off the stove and moving the pot to a rag he had set on the counter. “She’s good. Busy with work, with life. But she’s really good. We’re flying to see her parents tomorrow, so she’s wrapping some stuff up at home. Hence why she couldn’t come.”

I nodded to myself as he spoke. Fai had stepped away from Fibonacci Files when he handed it to me, and it was obvious he was happy in this new life of semi-retirement, where he spent his days with his wife.

“What’s new with you, Goldie?” he muttered as he started dishing up bowls of pasta that smelled heavenly.

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

He shot me a curious look. “Nothing at all?”

“I have work, and that’s about it,” I explained as he moved to come and sit down next to me on the couch. I scooted over, giving him space and taking one of the bowls from his hand, breathing in the delicious scent of garlic and onion. “If you keep feeding me like this, I’ll never have the motivation to learn how to cook.”

Fai laughed lightly and dove into his food. “Just gives me an excuse to see you more.”

Fai and I were in a very similar boat where we didn’t have our parents in our lives. While he was raised in the foster system, I was mostly raised by my uncle on a local reservation. My uncle was great, but he was never meant to be a parent. Fai and I, instead of fostering our blood families, had pieced together our own version of a family.

My front door opened suddenly, and a very damp Oliver stumbled in. “Sorry I’m late,” he muttered, shaking his head free of rain and pulling off his jacket. “I also can only stay for a minute.”

I smiled and shot him a wave with a mouth full of food.

“Extra food is on the counter,” Fai called.

Oliver followed his direction, dishing up his own bowl and moving to my living room, taking a seat in one of my armchairs.

“So,” I began, glancing between the two. “Any chance you want to explain why you’re here?”

Oliver tried to laugh off the comment. “Can we not just be here because we like spending time with you?”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “I see you every day.” I turned my attention to Fai. “And I can sense a setup from a mile away. Just get on with it.”

Fai’s eyes glittered with understanding. “Oliver may have ulterior motives for being here—”

“Hey!” Oliver protested half-heartedly, but Fai ignored him.

“I actually just wanted to check in on you. Every time I see you, you’re either working or talking about work. I wanted to make sure you still had a life outside of that building,” he explained. “When I handed you the keys to the kingdom, I didn’t expect you to give up your whole life.”

“I don’t really have a life to give up,” I mumbled and continued to eat steadily.

Fai sighed heavily, obviously disappointed by my words. “You need a life outside of that place.”

“We all have one,” Oliver interjected. “I have my kids and Theo. Fai has Sarah. Jackie has her cats… and her husband. You need a life outside of those walls.”

I waved him off. “I don’t need one. I am perfectly happy with the status quo.”

“When’s the last time you went out with someone not from work? Went out on a date? It’s been over four years, if my memory serves,” Fai challenged, and I shot him a glare because it was a low blow.

True, but still a low blow.

I hadn’t been on a date… well, ever. There was the kind of date that ended up being one of the worst nights of my life—the one Fai remembered—but that was about it. All my friends had been made through work and were reliant on work as well. My life existed within the bounds of Fibonacci Files, and I was okay with it.