When I get to our new CSL offices in a beautiful classic building on High Street, just up the road from hotel, I am utterly shocked at what I find. I expected to show up to an empty block of cubicles, or a loft space that hadn’t been furnished yet, since our plans for opening up in Auckland had been fairly last minute. Instead, into a huge, beautiful office space with vaulted ceilings and exposed beams, polished wood floors, a Victorian-designed interior, and an open work space complete with a vintage pool table. There is a “boss’s office” off the back, but the sliding doors are mostly glass and rich antique wood, giving it an accessible feel that nothing in our building in New York has. Even the bathrooms are state-of-the-art, with showers and changing rooms, making them perfect for long work nights or employees returning from extended trips.

We still haven’t hired anyone to work here, or cover the office full time; that is one of the tasks my father has assigned me while we’re in Auckland. Our first clients are due in an hour, and without a receptionist, that means I have to cover everything myself. I don’t mind, but it doesn’t look terribly professional for me to answering the phone and welcoming clients myself. For a moment, I consider calling Arie and having her pretend to be my secretary, just for the day, but then I decide she and Chloe are better off having a day to themselves.

I barely have time to log into the computer and confirm the client meeting before two men from the New Zealand government are standing outside the sliding door, looking grim and serious. I try to remain as calm as possible as I greet them.

“Gentlemen! You must be from the consulate. My name is Pierce Cochran, and I am Head of Overseas Logistics and Security Maintenance. I will be coordinating all of your initial planning with CSL until the office is organized.”

The men each take a seat across from the desk without me offering. The taller of the two hands me a business card. “My name is Spencer James, and the formalities are unnecessary. We are very well-acquainted with the world Cochran Securities does, and we wouldn’t be here if we weren’t prepared to sign with you today. There is just one caveat.”

I lean across the desk. “I’m listening.”

“We need very… focused attention. And it will require full-time concentration from someone who knows the industry inside and out. So, we are hoping that you will consider relocating to Auckland and handing the project yourself.”

I sit back, not sure I just heard him correctly. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that? You want me to do what?”

The short, round fellow scootches forward in his seat and holds out his hand, but doesn’t offer me a name or a business card. “Mr. Cochran, we’re not really from the consulate. We’re not at liberty to say what our business is until you agree to our terms. But when my associate says we need someone with a special set of skills, a history in the industry, and a reputation for being a standup guy, assume those terms are non-negotiable. Our business requires discretion, concentration, and talent. We’ve done our homework and we know you are the man for the job. Now all we need is assurance that your attentions will be entirely on us, here, full-time, and the contract is yours. And Mr. Cochran?”

“Yes?” I respond trying to hide all of the nervous energy that is bubbling up inside of me.

“Trust me when I say, you and your company want this contract.” He reaches into his pocket and pull out a piece of paper, then slides it across the desk. I pick it up, look at it, and don’t understand.

“What is this? An account number?”

They laugh. “No, Mr. Cochran. That’s how much we’ll pay you.”

My jaw drops.

“Per five-year contract. At the end of every five years, we’ll reevaluate our situation, and if we’re all happy with how things are going, we will re-up. With a .5% increase in payment.”

I sink down into my chair like the I’m a balloon that has just been popped. This is too good to be true! This is… oh, shit. This is too good to be true.

“Is what you do illegal? Is that why we’re going through all the pretext? Because if you’re operating some sort of illegal business, I can’t and I won’t get my family involved.” I am actually confident my father would take the money regardless, but I’m not my father. The men just laugh and shake their heads.

“On the contrary, Mr. Cochran, what we do is quite the opposite of illegal. But that is for another time. Please, consider our offer. And then, call the number on that card. We’ll give you twenty-four hours to think it over.”

The men quickly get up, shake my hand, and then walk out the door before I can say anything else. And I’m left standing in the office, staring at the payment offer they left on my desk, trying not to cry from happiness. If I pulled in an account this big, Dad would have to let me do whatever I wanted. Go wherever I wanted. If I wanted to leave Manhattan, and start a new life in New Zealand with Chloe, for that amount of corporate profits? No way he’s going to tell me no. Chloe is still young enough that a move this big won’t mean much to her. If anything, it will help her fully leave behind whatever memories she might have the life she had before she came to me. I try not to think of it too often, how bad it must have been for her until she got to me. Auckland would be a fresh start.

For both of us.

And then I think of Arie, sweet Arie, taking care of Chloe right now, as I sit here making this huge decision. She’s barely been back in my life a week, and I feel like no time has passed at all. We both look like we’ve lived whole lifetimes in the years between, but when I’m with her, it’s like we’re teenagers again. Except I’m not being a jerk. I can’t stand the idea of leaving her behind again, so soon after getting her back in my life. But would she ever consider moving here with us? Even just as Chloe’s caretaker?

The idea of being with her doesn’t scare me anymore, but it might scare her now. Just because she’s forgiven me enough to work for me doesn’t mean she has enough to be with me in any other way? I realize I’m not going to find the answers sitting here in this empty office, so I make the decision to talk to Arie. There is no point in driving myself crazy if she won’t even consider leaving New York.

I rush out of the office building and back to the hotel, but find that Arie and Chloe are gone. They must have gone out for a walk, and it’s definitely still too early to worry. So, I call down to the front desk.

“Concierge. Good evening, Mr. Cochran. What can I do for you?” a cheerful female voice answers.

“Yes, hello. I was wondering if you offered child care or babysitters of any kind? I was hoping to take my friend out for dinner tonight and didn’t want to drag my daughter along as well.”

“Ai!” she responds even more cheerfully. “For our most important visitors, we can certainly arrange that. What time would you like your trained childcare to arrive this evening Mr. Cochran?”

“Seven o’clock this evening? Can you recommend a restaurant? We’ve only just arrived and I’m afraid I don’t have my bearings yet.”

She sighs, as if she’s already jealous of food I haven’t even had. “Oh, yes, sir. One of the finest restaurants in the country, Civace, is located just up the street from us. I will call and book you a table. They should have no trouble making space for you.”

The concierge confirms the details and I hang up the phone with a spring in my step I can’t quite explain. I hurry into the bedroom up at the top of the stairs and change into my favorite navy blue, ultra-tailored suit. I hear the front door of the room opening just as I get back to the living room, so I grab a daisy from the vase and put on my best smile before Arie and Chloe can come in. When the door opens, Arie’s jaw drops.

“What do you say to a night on the town?” I ask with a mischievous grin. Arie just continues to stare. Chloe reaches out for me, so I grab her from the stroller and give her a hug. Finally, Arie finds her voice.

“Why are you dressed like that? What happened? How can we go out? It’s way too late for Chloe to go anywhere. And she’s probably exhausted. We’ve been out exploring all afternoon.”

I hold up my free hand with a laugh to stop her nervous train of thought. “It’s all taken care of! I’ve arranged for a babysitter for Chloe, and we’re going to go to the one of the nicest restaurants in Auckland.”

Arie raises a suspicious eyebrow at me. “How could you possibly find a babysitter in Auckland when we’ve been here for six hours and you don’t know anyone? And I’m not sure I have anything appropriate for a ‘nice’ restaurant. I came here to New Zealand with exactly what I moved in with. Which is to say, not much. What would I wear?”

I pick up a brochure off of the coffee table that outlines the services offered in the hotel. “There is a store right downstairs! I’ll give you some money and you can go buy a dress if you’d like to feel a little fancy. We have some time before the reservation, so there is no rush. Find something that makes you happy.”

“Pierce, I don’t know about any of this,” she says, bristling. “You paying me to watch Chloe is one thing, but giving me money for designer clothes is quite another. I’m not comfortable with that.”

I roll my eyes. “Arie, it’s a dress. Not a car. I need to talk to you about some things and I don’t want to do it in a McDonalds. Here,” I say as I hand her a stack of rainbow-colored Kiwi money from my pocket. “Our reservation isn’t until seven, and the babysitter will be here at 6:30. So, go shopping. Have some fun. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Arie looks apprehensive, but she takes the money and nods, and walks out the door like she’s being led to a firing squad. I just shake my head and settle in with Chloe to watch some TV.

That girl has more secrets than a government spy, and I’m going to figure out what they are…