Chapter 15~ Good Taste, Little Man

By the time Nina returned to her small apartment in Silvermont City, the sky outside had already deepened to violet, streaked with the last traces of amber light.

The city lights flickered to life across the skyline, casting a warm glow through her window.

The day had stretched endlessly behind her… too long, too intense.

The adrenaline from the audition still hummed faintly in her veins, mingling with memories of the hospital chaos, that strange encounter with Ethan, the emotional whirlwind that had swept through every hour. Now it had finally caught up with her, settling like a weight across her shoulders. 

The moment she stepped inside her apartment, she kicked off her heels with a grateful sigh and collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the worn cushions.

"Five minutes," she murmured to the empty room, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll rest for just five minutes…"

She woke two hours later.

Nina blinked groggily at the ceiling, disoriented. The apartment had grown dark around her, illuminated only by the streetlights filtering through the blinds.

"Oh no."

She sat up quickly, running her fingers through her tangled hair, her mind struggling to catch up with the lost time.

Her stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence.

"Okay, okay… point taken." She pressed a hand to her abdomen with a rueful smile.

After stretching out the stiffness in her limbs, she grabbed her phone from the coffee table. Instead of dragging herself to the kitchen to cook, she decided to celebrate the only way that felt right tonight. "For once," she said with a small, defiant smile, scrolling through the food delivery app, "let me actually spend money on myself."

After years of scraping by, counting every dollar, weighing every purchase against her dwindling savings, it felt oddly rebellious… almost luxurious to order something genuinely nice. She selected grilled salmon with lemon butter, roasted vegetables, garlic noodles, and a small chocolate cake that made her mouth water just looking at the picture.

"Perfect."

She placed the order and leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly. For a moment she simply sat there in the quiet, a faint smile playing at her lips as the reality began to sink in. Her first major role. 

After all the rejection, all the near-misses and almosts, it still didn't feel entirely real. Just as she stood up to tidy the apartment, to give her restless hands something to do.

Knock knock.

Nina froze mid-step, her gaze darting to the clock on the wall. Nearly nine at night.

"Who on earth…"

The knock came again, more insistent this time.

Curious and slightly cautious, Nina approached the door and opened it slowly. Then she immediately froze, her breath catching.

Standing in the doorway was Lucas Grant. Tall, impossibly composed, his presence somehow filling the narrow hallway. He wore a dark tailored coat that probably cost more than her monthly rent, every line of it perfectly pressed despite the late hour.

And in his arms… Ethan.

The little boy was curled quietly against his father's shoulder, his small face peaceful but pale. Lucas also held a modest fruit basket in one hand, the gesture so incongruous with his severe appearance that Nina couldn't quite process it.

The image was so surreal she could only stare, her mind struggling to reconcile the powerful CEO from the news with the man standing at her door holding a child and a gift basket.

"Mr… Grant?" she said slowly, her voice uncertain.

Her eyes moved between him and Ethan, searching for some explanation in their faces.

Then confusion flooded her expression, her brow furrowing.

"What are you doing here?" The question came out softer than she intended, tinged with genuine bewilderment.

She blinked again, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it.

"And… how did you even find my address?"

Lucas looked as calm as if he were arriving at a scheduled business meeting, his expression giving nothing away.

"My son insisted," he said simply, his voice low and measured.

Nina tilted her head, processing his words.

"…Insisted?" she echoed, her confusion deepening as she glanced at the quiet child in his arms.

Lucas adjusted Ethan slightly in his arms, shifting the boy's weight with practiced ease.

"He refused dinner," he stated, his tone matter-of-fact.

Nina's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"He refused every attempt to negotiate," Lucas added, a hint of weary amusement creeping into his voice.

She blinked, trying to imagine the scene that must have unfolded.

"He informed us… very loudly, I might add, that he would not eat anything unless he saw you first," Lucas explained, his calm delivery belying the chaos his son had likely caused.

Nina stared at him for a moment, then shifted her gaze to Ethan. The boy had lifted his head now, and his big dark eyes immediately locked onto hers with an intensity that seemed far too knowing for someone so young.

The moment he saw her, his entire expression brightened, transforming from solemn determination to pure joy.

Something warm and unexpected bloomed in Nina's chest, catching her off guard.

"Oh..." she breathed, her voice softening instinctively.

Without thinking, she stretched out her arms in invitation.

"Well, come here then, sweetheart."

Ethan didn't hesitate. He leaned forward instantly, small hands reaching for her with absolute trust. Lucas carefully transferred him into her waiting arms, his movements gentle and protective. The little boy wrapped his arms around her neck as if he had known her forever, clinging to her with fierce affection.

Nina laughed softly, the sound genuine and warm as she held him close.

"Someone really missed me, didn't they?"

Ethan nodded vigorously against her shoulder, his silent response somehow more eloquent than words.

Lucas stood watching them quietly, his hands now empty. For the first time that evening, something softer appeared in his expression… a flicker of vulnerability that made him seem less like the composed businessman and more like a father witnessing something he hadn't expected to see.

Nina suddenly realized she'd left them standing in the doorway. She stepped aside quickly, adjusting Ethan on her hip.

"Oh! I'm so sorry… please, come in."

Her apartment was small but undeniably cozy. A soft lamp glowed near the window, casting warm light across the room. Books and scripts were stacked neatly on the coffee table, evidence of her work and passions. The faint scent of fresh citrus cleaner lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of lavender from a candle she'd lit earlier.

"Sorry it's a bit messy," Nina apologized, quickly moving a few magazines aside with her free hand, suddenly self-conscious about the lived-in quality of her space.

Lucas stepped inside, ducking slightly as he crossed the threshold. His tall frame made the apartment feel even smaller, his presence filling the modest space in a way that was both commanding and strangely comfortable. Ethan remained happily nestled in Nina's arms, clearly not planning to leave his perch anytime soon.

Nina walked toward the kitchen, swaying slightly with Ethan's weight.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she offered, glancing back at Lucas.

"Black coffee," he replied simply, his preference as straightforward as everything else about him.

"Coming right up."

She set Ethan down gently on the couch, smoothing his hair affectionately before straightening.

"And for you..." she said, turning to the boy with a conspiratorial smile.

She opened the fridge and retrieved a chilled carton, the cool air washing over her flushed cheeks.

"A glass of pineapple juice."

Ethan tilted his head curiously, his gaze following her movements. Nina poured the golden juice into a glass and handed it to him, their fingers briefly touching as he grasped it.

"This is my favorite," she said warmly, settling into the chair beside him. "I hope you like it."

Ethan's eyes widened with excitement as he accepted the glass with both hands, holding it as though it were something precious. He took a careful sip, his expression thoughtful. Then another, longer this time. His entire face lit up with delight, and a small sound of satisfaction escaped him.

Nina laughed, the sound genuine and unguarded. She leaned forward slightly, studying his reaction with obvious pleasure.

"You like it?" she asked, though his expression had already given her the answer.

Ethan nodded enthusiastically, then took another eager sip, leaving a faint golden mustache on his upper lip.

Lucas watched the exchange from the table, his coffee cup paused halfway to his lips. Something softened in his expression as he observed the easy rapport developing between them.

"It's his favorite too," he said calmly, setting down his cup.

Nina blinked in surprise, her eyes widening slightly.

"Really?" she asked, glancing between father and son.

She turned back to Ethan, her expression melting into tenderness.

"Aww." Crouching to his level, she gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, her touch feather-light. "Looks like we have something in common, you and me."

Ethan's smile emerged slowly, shy but genuine, reaching his eyes in a way that transformed his whole face. The wariness he'd carried earlier had dissolved completely.

Nina cupped his cheek affectionately, her thumb tracing a gentle arc across his skin. "Good taste, little man," she said softly, her voice warm with approval.

Lucas sat nearby, his posture relaxed but his attention fully engaged. He observed the two of them… the way Ethan's shoulders had dropped from their usual defensive hunch, how he leaned ever so slightly into Nina's touch. The easy warmth in her voice carried none of the forced cheerfulness some adults adopted around children. Her movements flowed with natural gentleness, instinctive rather than calculated.

He lifted the coffee cup she had placed before him, inhaling the rich aroma before taking a slow, deliberate sip. The blend was perfect… not too bitter, with just enough sweetness to round out the edges. She'd done it exactly how he took it.

Lucas Grant allowed himself a small, thoughtful smile, the kind that softened the usually stern lines around his mouth. Something unfamiliar stirred in his chest, a cautious hope he wasn't quite ready to name.