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victorianoir · 7 years

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“The Tech Guy’s Promise”

Welcome back to The Detective and the Tech Guy. As we dive back into the world of Sarah Walker, P.I. and her ultra-rich tech mogul boyfriend, remember that a lot has happened to get them here. If this is your first foray into DATG, I’ve put together an entire Master Post. You can catch up there! Or, if you’d rather, check out the fanfiction.net version HERE.

Enjoy, CHUCK fans. ;)

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Chuck made a face as he swiped at Sarah’s sweater with a wet cloth, trying his best to clean the mess without smearing.

“Sorry,” he heard Ellie chime in from over his shoulder. “Sometimes she misses the burping cloth.”

Sarah just giggled, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I said I didn’t mind holding her after she just ate so I sort of asked for it, didn’t I?” Chuck didn’t entirely feel like she did ask for it. It was like Clara had aimed for anything but the cloth. But he couldn’t blame her; she was so damn cute and had so much of her mom’s personality already. “Though I will say, I didn’t expect to be wiping baby barf off of my shirt today when I put it on this morning,” she added good-naturedly.

Ellie snorted, walking around them to grab a few paper towels from the nearby roll and handing them to Chuck. “That’s not something I can say.”

Sarah giggled again and took the towels from Chuck as he inexpertly continued trying to help her. “It’s okay, I got it.” She moved over to the sink and cleaned it herself, dabbing with wet towels until there was a wet splotch on her sweater and no trace of Clara’s spit-up.

“How are my ladies doin’?” Devon asked, walking around into the kitchen.

“Oh, we’re great, Devon, thanks,” Chuck drawled.

“Oh. Sorry, bro,” the surgeon chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

Chuck rolled his eyes teasingly as Ellie looked up from making faces at her squirming daughter. “Sarah took one for the team.”

“Aw man! Barf jet made its landing, huh? She likes bright colors.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Devon. Stop.”

“What? It’s a good theory!” he said defensively, holding his hands out. “She’s only ever barfed on us when we’re wearing bright colors. Never when we’re in darks and pastels. I think she hates pink the most.”

“Remind me not to wear pink, huh, Chuck?” Sarah said.

“Don’t play into my husband’s weird-ass theories, Sarah,” Chuck’s sister said, switching Clara’s weight to her other arm. “Wear whatever color you want to wear.”

“How does she feel about stripes?” Chuck asked, and Ellie rushed over to clamp her hand over Devon’s mouth as he made to answer.

She glared over her shoulder at her brother. “I hate you.”

Chuck laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the counter in his kitchen. He watched as Devon pulled Ellie’s hand away from his mouth and beamed at her in that charming way of his. “Well, whether my little bumblebee nugget hates certain colors or not, she’s definitely tuckered out. Big time.”

They all looked and, indeed, Clara was out cold against her mom’s chest, her little fists curled up under her chin like little pink rosebuds. Everyone let out quiet little “awwww”s and stared for a bit.

Devon moved first. “Think it’s time to get her in her carseat. While she’s this far gone. Or she’ll fight us like a demon and it’ll take a half hour to get her in.”

“Plus insane screaming for an entire car ride,” Ellie whispered, rocking Clara a little to keep her asleep.

“I’ll get our things,” Devon chirped, rushing out of the kitchen to scrounge up their belongings. Chuck felt a little bereft at the thought of them leaving so soon, but with Clara here now, the two of them had much less time to visit. Their lives revolved around her eating and sleeping. It made sense. They needed to find some way to sleep themselves between all of that.

He just didn’t know how much longer Ellie and Devon would stay in Los Angeles before going back home to San Francisco. Ellie mentioned how rough it would be, driving with their newborn for seven hours straight. Was it even safe?

“I have to pee. Who gets the little bundle of joy?”

“ME!” both he and Sarah rushed out. Chuck reached out his arms first, though, and sent Sarah a pout he was relatively sure had some power with his girlfriend. She relented and crossed her arms with a bit of a glare. “In my defense, you’ve gotten to hold her all day, Sarah Walker, P.I. Let the tech guy have a turn with his niece, hm?”

“Fiiiiine,” she drawled, and he saw the mirth beneath her own pout.

He reached out with grabby hands as his sister handed him her daughter. “Yaaaay,” he whispered, pulling his niece in and cradling her close against his chest. She curled into more of a ball against him and drooled a bit on his nice button-up and he didn’t care even a bit.

As Ellie moved out of the kitchen to visit Chuck’s bathroom, Sarah sidled up to him and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. “I always thought people were such freaking liars when they talked about how cute babies are, but your niece is so cute it almost hurts.”

“I know. She makes me feel like my soul is made out of ice cream, sunshine, and fluffy clouds of happiness. I realize clouds and sunshine are contradictory, but it’s just how I feel.”

Sarah giggled and turned her face a little to nuzzle his shoulder over his shirt. “She almost looks like you. The little bit at the end of her nose that goes bwoop.”

“I have a little bit at the end of my nose that goes bwoop?”

She looked up at him and nodded.

“Huh. Didn’t realize that. Hey, I have a little mini-me, then. But, like, a girl version. This is quite a gig, you know? I get to cuddle, swaddle, and snuggle…with a few poopy diaper changes in the middle…but none of the really awful stuff like not sleeping, hearing all of the angry crying.”

“Not ready for all of the responsibility type things, then?” she teased.

“Uhhhhh, no.”

“So…then…you’re not going to do that shitty romcom trope where the guy goes around with someone else’s baby to attract chicks?” She was flirting hard. The way her eyes flashed as she peered up at him through her lashes, pursing her lips and twisting them to the side.

Chuck scoffed. “Okay. One? I don’t need no chick magnet. Case in point…” He dragged his gaze down Sarah’s body and back up again. She snorted and tilted her head, wordlessly granting him that one. “Two? That doesn’t even work in real life. Most women aren’t that easy. Nor are they idiots. And three? Ellie already banned Morgan from being alone with Clara for even suggesting he might do that, and he was joking. So…”

Sarah laughed quietly and stepped back as Ellie came back in the room.

“Dear God, please tell me she’s still asleep,” she said with a wince.

“Like a baby.” He opened his mouth and gave both of them a ta daaaa grin and didn’t get even a bit of the reaction he’d wanted. Instead they merely gave one another flat looks.

“Just for that, give me my daughter back.”

Sarah laughed as he pouted and handed Clara back to her mother.

Minutes later, the Woodcombs were gone, practically tiptoeing away to keep Clara from waking up before they got her to the car, and leaving Chuck and Sarah alone in his condo.

He let out a long breath and smiled to himself, going into the kitchen to start drying the dishes they’d left in the rack next to the sink. He hummed to himself, mopping at the plates with a towel. He’d half-expected Sarah to join him, the way she usually did…sidle up behind him, grab the towel out of his hand to tease him or grab another towel and help…

And after a few minutes, Chuck set everything down and wandered out of his kitchen, stepping into the living room. He found her on the couch, sitting upright, staring down at her laptop that was propped on her knees.

Her face was set in concentration, her eyes flicking back and forth on the screen. And then he saw a flicker of annoyance on her face, disappointment. And she cursed under her breath, slamming the laptop shut with an emphatic click.

She looked up then and saw he was watching. Immediately, a smile swept over her face but it was forced. Very forced. And it frustrated him that she even attempted it.

“Dishes all done?” she asked, setting her laptop on the coffee table in front of her and folding her hands in her lap.

“Nah, just gonna let them dry on their own. That’s what this rack thingy is for, right? Sarah, are you okay?” He wasn’t going to let her deflect this time.

“What do you mean? Do I not seem okay?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered closer. “I mean, for the most part, yeah.” He shrugged. “But you’ve been a little… I don’t know…like something’s bothering you. Pretty much all day.”

When she came over in the afternoon to help him cook for Ellie and Devon, she’d been completely fine at first. But then he’d noticed she kept checking her phone for something. Or she’d pull out her laptop and look at it, then snap it shut like she’d just done again a minute ago, an annoyed look on her face. And then he’d caught her wringing her hands at least twice, though he hadn’t said anything about it. Then there was the fiddling of her fingers…like she did when she was worried.

Maybe she was worried…Or impatient? He closed the distance between them a bit more.

“Is it the agency? Everything okay over there?”

She snorted and gave him a flat look. “Same thing as always. Still trying to get clients. You know that.” With a shrug, she pushed herself to her feet and reached out to take his hand, pulling him the rest of the way so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders and look up at him.

He met her soft gaze and smiled with a short nod. Then he pulled his lips between his teeth and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You seem…I don’t know…almost worried. More than usual.”

She shook her head with a sigh. “Chuck, there’s nothing going on. Just typical adulting stuff. Seriously. I’m good.”

“There’s nothing going on you say. Then in the very next sentence: ‘Just typical adulting stuff.’ Sarah, I’m an adult. I have to deal with adulting as well. You wanna get it off your chest, I might be sympathetic.” He gave her a crooked smile and bumped her nose with his.

“I’m f—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine. You’re obsessed with Clara’s pudgy little legs and tonight I saw you were so distracted you didn’t pinch ‘em once and that seems like a big deal to me. More than just regular adult stuff. So out with it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and tried to pull away but he held fast.

“Sarah—”

“I’m late.”

Chuck blinked, and he felt himself pale. The blood rushed in his ears. And all he could do was stare. “Y—You’re … wha—?”

Sarah furrowed her brow for a moment, and then she paled as well, her eyes widening. “No!” A nervous huff came out of her. “That’s not—No, I’m—Not that. No!”

“Oh!” A harsh breath came out of him and he shook his head, swallowing thickly. Relief swam through him. “I—I—Oh.” He swallowed again. “Oh.”

“How is that the first thing you jumped to?” she asked, just barely regaining some of her color.

“THERE WAS JUST A BABY HERE, SARAH.” He heard his voice getting a little high pitched, a little hysterical, but that had been a major shock to his system.

“Let’s go ahead and move away from that subject completely,” she interjected and he nodded.

“God, yes. Please.”

“My rent,” she amended. “I’m late paying my rent. And…And I guess I’m just nervous. Frustrated.” She looked to still be composing herself a little. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one to get a shock to his system. But why the hell had she phrased it like that?

And then what she said sunk in, and he did a bit of a double take. “Wait. Wait, wait. Your rent?” He stepped in closer, holding her by her elbows. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Does your apartment still have electricity? Heat?”

“No! I mean yes. Yes, it does. But no, it isn’t my apartment, Chuck. It’s the agency. I’m late with the rent for my office space. I have to pay the apartment rent…I mean, it’s where I live. But the office…I can maybe let that one go for a little while without it being too much of an issue.”

He didn’t like the way she said that, how she shrugged—putting on a nonchalant act when he could see beneath the facade that this bothered her quite a bit.

“How long?” he asked, frowning.

“Um…” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Tomorrow will be two weeks.”

“What?!”

“I just have to wait for—” She stopped, her eyes darted to the side, and she shut her mouth, her lips thinning. Then she continued again, this time sounding a bit more controlled, the way she sometimes had spoken to him back when she was the lead detective for B.E.C.’s case over a year and a half ago. “I’ve got some money I’m waiting on, something coming in. Then I can pay Jorge and I’ll be totally caught up.”

“You’ve got money you’re waiting on? From where? One of your clients not paying you?” He would send her to their doorstep with his company’s attorney in tow.

“No, not a client. Just, uh…Someone owes me money and they’re sending it to me. Soon.”

Chuck felt that she wanted this particular strain of discussion to end, but he didn’t want it to. He had so many questions. He wanted to know who owed her money. Who the hell was this person she was relying on to be able to pay her rent for her office space? Whomever it was, Chuck absolutely didn’t trust them. Not when having that space was so incredibly important. If she lost that, she’d be forced backwards in making her dream agency a reality, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen.

For the moment, he decided to push his questions to the side, table them for later. Instead, he said, “Well, just let me give Jorge the money for now—”

“No.” She said it in a very emphatic voice, her tone almost a little hard, even.

“What d’you mean, no? I can—”

“No.”

He blinked. “Sarah—”

“No!” She grabbed his face in her hands, still gentle, imploring. “Chuck, you’re not paying my rent.”

Letting out a huff, the tech guy shrugged and set his hands on her hips, pulling her in closer. “Fine, then. I can give him the rent money, you can pay me back when the—whoever it is pays you back.”

It seemed incredibly simple to him. It was just like a placeholder. Jorge would have the rent and he’d get off of Sarah’s back. It was the perfect solution.

“No, Chuck, I’m not gonna have my boyfriend be my own personal loan agency. That isn’t how this is gonna work. No.”

“Sarah, I’m not a loan agency. I’m just the guy who loves you and wants you to keep your office.” Then he pulled a silly face and smoldered for her, the way he knew she liked. “I’ve got plenty of money, after all,” he teased.

But none of it did what he’d hoped, and she merely sighed and shut her eyes tiredly. “That’s just it, Chuck. I’ll be no better than…” she paused, “people think I am.”

He knew inherently that she was referring to his mom. His own mother was making the woman he loved doubt herself, her business, and worst of all, their relationship. And it hurt him that Sarah was so conscious of it, that it bothered her enough she brought it up this often.

Chuck nodded then, and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright. I give in.”

“You’re not gonna push me on this anymore?” she asked, tilting her head. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise to let me take care of this? I will take care of it. It’s important and I’m handling it as such. I’ve got it.”

He nodded.

“You promise?” she probed.

“Yes.” He paused and leaned in to kiss her warmly and her body melted into his, her arms sliding around his neck. As they pulled back a moment later, lips still brushing, he murmured an extra “I promise” and reveled in the feeling of her mouth smiling against his.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She’d seen it one thousand times before. And in many different forms.

How many promises had her father made to her that he hadn’t kept? At this point in her life, Sarah Walker estimated it was nearing a couple hundred. Maybe more than that even. Promises he hadn’t kept that she didn’t know about.

This was just another promise of his and she was unendingly angry with herself for falling into what was undoubtedly just another lie, another trap, another let down. That was how it ended, nine times out of ten. With her pissed and shattered, vowing to never talk to him again. …And then she’d accept his call again, open his email, read his text, and it’d be a vicious cycle. Like it always was. She always came out the worse for the wear.

Her life was different now, though. She had more riding on her decisions than just her own well-being. She had a path, a challenge ahead of her. Nothing was concrete like it had been with Pinkerton. She was secure there, knew what she was getting into every single day, even on the most dangerous cases. Now her future was up in the air, things were changing…but she had a path to follow. And in spite of it being her path, and hers alone, Chuck Bartowski was still there.

This wasn’t just about her anymore.

She had someone else to protect from all of this.

He’d made her a promise, too. Only, unlike her father, he would keep his. He always did. Unfailingly.

And maybe that was part of what drew her to him. Chuck was the most dependable person she’d ever had in her life, and she thought he was maybe the most dependable person anyone who knew him had in their lives.

It wasn’t about his money. Of course a man who had pockets as deep as his were wouldn’t have trouble being dependable. With all of that money at his disposal, he could afford to be that way.

It was just him, the way he was. Inherently. From the time she’d spent with Ellie in the last year or so, she’d discovered a lot about Chuck’s past, and who he was then. Even Morgan had been a good source. The stories of Chuck stepping in when Morgan needed a champion as a smaller kid on the playground being pushed around by bullies. Her boyfriend had gotten himself a black eye in seventh grade after refusing to leave his best friend alone in the hallway with a couple of asshole eighth graders.

Chuck had dependability already in him when he was born. It was a trait that set the tech genius far, far apart from her father, the only other man who’d been important in her life. He’d been a pillar in her life until…well, until he hadn’t been.

Sarah didn’t like the idea of that being why she’d fallen for Chuck so hard and so quickly—that he was the total opposite from her father. It felt almost dysfunctional, in a weird way. And she knew that wasn’t it, at least not completely. Because her attraction to him had been immediate, before she’d even known about him, before she’d gotten to know what he was like, what drove him. The moment he’d met her eyes, something had been there. Maybe not love—love at first sight was a sappy, paltry sentiment that only existed in movies. But it was a powerful attraction all the same.

Something had pulled at her, making her want to do more than just read the dossier on him. Her walls had come down so fast that she’d flirted with him, on the tape recorded, in her very first interview with him about the case. It was ridiculous and unprofessional and so unlike her.

And it was a testament to how singular this was, this relationship, them as a couple.

It had little to nothing to do with her problems with her father. And everything to do with the way they fit so well together. Her relationship with Chuck Bartowski was seamless. It wasn’t without its flaws, it certainly wasn’t perfect, but it was seamless.

So when Chuck made a promise, she believed him. In spite of how often others had broken their promises to her, in spite of how often those others had hurt her.

But that didn’t make her any less of an idiot for trusting her father again.

He said the money would be in the mail. And by that, she figured he meant a check. He owed it to her. He owed more than that to her…but that went so deep, she couldn’t even begin working all of it out, so instead she focused on the money.

His words had felt so meaningless at the time: “I’ll never be able to pay all of this back to you.”

And his “thank you, darlin’” meant even less. But she’d done it anyway.

And still…She was doing this…trusting him.

No, she wasn’t trusting him. She didn’t trust him. She never would again. But she was desperate enough now. She needed this. And she thought that if she’d never helped her dad in the first place, she wouldn’t be in the current predicament she was in, because she’d have more than enough to pay her rent, both her home and her agency.

So she would accept this blasted check, if it ever came like he’d promised her it would.

Before she’d hung up on him.

She would cash it. And she would pay everything off. And then she’d be back on track and Chuck wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore like she knew he was.

She knew how hard it was for him to understand and accept her choices. And she didn’t feel like she needed to explain everything for him to get why she was so adamant. It filled her with relief the other night when he’d promised her he would step back and let her handle all of this on her own. And he’d promised twice.

He was trustworthy.

She trusted him to keep his word.

Because he always had before.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

He switched his gaze from the picture on the left to that on the right. Then back again. Chuck finally groaned and pushed his hands through his hair. “This sucks. I hate making decisions.”

Adisa huffed and set the plans he’d been holding up for his boss on the desk, one on top of the other. “Well, you have time with those. I think the issue that’s the most pressing is whether or not you can get both Neil and Bill on the same stage…at the same time. If you can promise that, people won’t care whether the rest of STEMCon is a complete failure.”

Chuck slid his droll gaze up to his assistant. “Thank you, Adisa.”

“Sorry.” He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat, folding his hands together in front of him. “My point, really, is that I think there are a few things that will really sell this convention if you get them right, whether everything else is perfect or not.”

Chuck let out a long sigh and nodded. “No, you’re right. You’re right. Definitely. And I think the Techosaurus Rex would probably be best for the main lobby, when pass holders are first walking in. Robotic dinosaur versus a giant brain? I mean, come on.”

“Always go with the dinosaur. I absolutely agree.”

“Great. Well…that’s one thing we’ve got settled. TAGBot’s got the job. Hopefully it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg…”

“Or a brain. That would be kind of ironic.”

“Ha!” Chuck pointed at his assistant. “I see what you did there. Get me TAGBot on the phone. Gah, what was the guy’s name I was talking to…? Get h—”

He was interrupted by his office door being opened.

His mother pushed right on in, stopping in the middle of the room. “Sorry, was I interrupting? Still planning that convention, sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah, still planning it. Hi, Mom. That was…uh, abrupt.”

“Well, I’m your mother. And technically my husband is your boss.” She sent him a teasing smile to let him know she wasn’t serious, but it still irked him a little.

“Uh, thanks Adisa. I’ll call ‘em later to let them know what we’ll need from them.”

“Of course, Ch—er, Mr. Bartowski.” He started to move out of the room, but Chuck grabbed the plans and held them up towards him. “Oh. Yes! I’ll take these out of your way.” As he hurried past Mary Bartowski, he grinned. “Mrs. Bartowski, very nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“Good to see you, too, Adisa. How’s your mom and your sister?”

“Oh, they’re great. Tambara is looking into grants for college, so she’s been busy.”

“Well, if she needs help with that, Chuck would be the perfect candidate. He had to apply for every grant in the book, and Tambara having been born in Nigeria will definitely open quite a few doors there. My advice: take advantage of every opportunity.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bartowski. I will surely pass that on to my sister,” he said good-naturedly. Chuck tried to keep the wince off of his face. “Let me know if you need me for anything else,” were the young man’s parting words, and then he went out to his own desk, shutting the door behind him.

“Mom, can you maybe cool it telling my assistant that his sister somehow has a leg up in applying for college because his family had to flee from their home country when they were kids?”

“That is not what I said.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Mom.”

“The Obafemi’s are a good family and they deserve good things. I hope you’re offering your help to his sister, though. Seriously.”

“Adisa went to MIT, Mom. I think Tambara has a pretty good resource in her brother. But anyway, what’s going on? I thought you were with dad in Encino for that recruitment meeting.”

“Mmm yes, we just got back.”

There was a long pause then. “Oooookaaaay, annndd…? Like, I’m not trying to be rude, I’m never rude to you, Mom,” she gave him a dubious look at that, “but you just seem like there’s something on your mind.”

“There’s nothing on my mind. I just feel like I haven’t seen you at all since Clara was born and I thought I could have some one on one time with my son.” She held her hands out defensively. “What’s so wrong with that?”

He chuckled. “Nothing wrong with that, Mom. I actually need to stretch my legs a bit and give my brain a rest. It’s kind of cloudy and brisk out there, but would you want to take a quick walk to the park?”

Mary Bartowski’s warm smile was all the answer he needed.

They eventually made their way to the nearby park, a block north from B.E.C.’s headquarters, walking in comfortable silence. And it wasn’t until they actually made their way onto the path that Chuck felt something else start to enter the comfortable silence—something slightly less comfortable.

He’d fallen for her game again. And damn him, but he’d helped it along by suggesting they leave the office. At least in his office he could text Adisa and ask him to pretend an important patron was on the line for him or something.

“You know, your father told me you didn’t even leave the office the other night. He said you were there when he left and there when he got in the next morning, and wearing the same suit. He’s worried about you,” she finally said, wrapping a hand around his arm. “So am I if that’s what you’ve been doing. It isn’t even safe to be in the building all alone like that.”

“It’s perfectly safe, Mom.”

“Charles, don’t ‘it’s perfectly safe’ me. You do remember that a man was murdered almost two years ago. Right near here. And the man who did it thought he was murdering your father. And the bomb in your cell phone? Oh, and the drive by attempt on your life?”

“That last one was actually an attempt on Sarah’s life. I just happened to be—Sorry,” he rushed out when she glared at him. “I know, I know. But there’s a guard in the building.”

“Mhm. One guard. That’s not the point, anyway. You need to get proper sleep or you’ll be of no use to anyone.”

Chuck let out a soft huff in amusement, having just heard that same thing from someone else the other day.

His mom squeezed his arm. “What’s that smile for?”

“Huh?”

“You just smiled and laughed a little.”

“Oh. Nah, nothing.”

“What?”

“It’s just that Sarah said the exact same thing you did, word for word, the other day. About me needing to sleep or I’ll be of no use to anyone.” He paused. “I mean, she said it more teasingly than you did, but she said it all the same.”

He watched his mom out of the corner of his eye, and saw the way her features became pinched—in annoyance, perhaps, at the reminder that Sarah was still here, that his relationship with the private investigator who’d saved his life a handful of times a year and a half ago was still a thing.

It made his chest hurt and it made him angry all at once.

“How is Sarah?” Mary asked then, lifting her chin, her voice brittle in the cold air.

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s good,” he amended, not wanting his mom to read into anything. “Focusing on getting the agency off the ground, picking up clients…”

“Is that so? Your father told me the clients just don’t seem to be biting. Not in those words. He was assuming. Said he bumped into her on her way down from your office and she seemed quiet and fatigued—you know, emotionally. Must not be going so well…”

Chuck took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She just needs to get her name out there. She gets a few good references, and they’ll practically be kicking her door down.” His smile was a little too bright, he knew, and his mother was a smart woman. People oftentimes underestimated just how smart she was.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Has she asked you for help yet?”

“What—?” He dropped the act and stopped walking, turning to face her. “No, she hasn’t asked me for help. Oh, do you mean how I’m paying for her lavish lifestyle?” he said sarcastically. “Funding her high society parties? Buying her a Maserati? Building her a chateau with stables up in the mountains? What do you think this is, Mom? Seriously.”

“I didn’t say any of those things. You did. I just asked if she asked for help yet. She obviously is hard for cash if she isn’t getting any clients. And her apartment is close enough to yours that I’m sure it costs her a small fortune, especially since she lives alone. Who’s paying for that?”

“She is,” he said, clenching his jaw. “No, you know what? I’m not answering any of your questions. Not anymore. Because my relationship with my girlfriend is none of your business.”

“What you do with the money your father’s company pays you is my business, Chuck. But most importantly, you’re my son. I love you. I don’t want to see you used and heartbroken.”

“She isn’t using me. And she has no intention of breaking anything of mine.”

“How do you even know that for sure?”

“Because we’re in love. Because I spend so much time with her that I know her, Mom. Because I trust her, the way you trust someone when you’re in a serious relationship. The way you trusted Dad when things were bleaker than they are now.” She looked away at that. “Money is nowhere in my relationship with Sarah. She goes out of her way to make sure I don’t help her. With anything. Even when I know she needs it. We’ve gotten into arguments about it. I try to help her all the time and she flat out refuses, contrary to what you might think of her. Trust me, I’ve tried to give her everything and she’s taken none of my offers. It’s almost infuriating. It is infuriating. It makes me feel crazy.” He huffed, annoyed he let his mom needle him enough to let that much out.

He pushed a hand through his hair, then smoothed down his tie. “Look, this family…” He licked his lips and shook his head, meeting her eyes. “This family has more money than we know what to do with. That’s just the truth. I’m so rich, I’m sure whatever money I die with will be enough for the next handful of generations that come after me to never work a day in their lives. What’s the point, though? What’s the point of having all of this if I can’t make the people I love comfortable? If I can’t help them to achieve their dreams?”

“Why can’t you just let her achieve her own dreams? Can she not get comfortable through her own hard work?”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “Stop right there. If B.E.C. were my company back when Ellie was starting med school and shifting into neuroscience and surgery, would you have ranted and raved if I’d paid for Ellie’s education the way Dad did when the company was starting to pick up steam?”

She was silent for a few seconds. And then she looked up at him. “She’s your sister. It’s different.”

“It isn’t different.”

“Families help each other. Families stick together. Families help with things like that. Just like we did for your father. And look at how much we’ve all benefited. But family—”

“Sarah’s family.”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“I love her, Mom. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me. She is family. When she needs help, when she needs a boost, it’s up to me to give it to her. I’m supposed to be supporting her.”

“Where’s her own family?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know if she even had her own family. It didn’t matter, though. He was her family. And in spite of anything he might’ve told her before, it was his duty to protect her, to help her achieve her goals, and to make sure there were no roadblocks between her and her dreams.

Even if it was in spite of his mother.

“I mean, Charles, honestly…” She grabbed his arm and made him look at her. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. And I’m not saying this to give you doubts. I genuinely want to know what it is that is keeping her here. She can’t get that business off the ground. She’d probably have better luck in another city, like New York or something. Back to Chicago, maybe, where Pinkerton is. You know that’s in the back of her mind, always there in her head. She might be in love with you. In fact, she probably is. I don’t doubt that. I’m a woman and I know other women better than you could ever understand, and I’ve seen how she looks at you. But being with you has added benefits that have to come into play as she plans all of this. You’re rich, Charles. You are a pretty big safety net, in case that agency of hers falls apart. What happens if she never gets a client? You don’t think she’ll eventually let it all go, live off of your earnings? It’d be so easy. I wouldn’t even blame her for it. It’s a very tempting prospect, living without a care in the world, knowing you have someone to pay your bills, buy your food, house and clothe you…”

“No,” he said, knowing beyond all doubt that he was right. “She’ll never let it go. It’s her dream. It’s what she was born to do. And she’ll never be satisfied living off of my earnings. You don’t know her the way I do. She’d…” His voice drifted off. She’d leave first, had been what he was going to say. She’d build her agency somewhere else before she’d ever just give up and live off of him.

His mother had gotten deep under his skin without him even realizing it was happening.

So much so that even when they’d finished the walk and she’d excused herself with a kiss to his cheek as though the entire argument had never even happened in the first place, he’d found himself sitting at his desk, still thinking about the things she’d made him realize.

She was bitter and judgmental and overprotective and paranoid. The Bartowski’s success and fortune had done that to her.

There was no way in hell he’d ever think Sarah was with him for his money, no matter what his mom did or said. She could show him a picture of Sarah in a bath full of his money as proof and he’d laugh it off. … Or he’d think it was hot; that was also a possibility.

But all of her harping on the money issue had him wondering if things were worse than Sarah was leading on. She was struggling. He knew she was. And she would be kicked out of her office space, have no home for her agency, if she went much further along without paying the rent to the landlord. She’d be devastated, and he had no idea what she’d do about it. Would she try again? Find some other space in Los Angeles? Or would she see it as such a catastrophic failure that she’d decide she couldn’t make it in LA, and needed to build the business elsewhere, in some other city? Back in Chicago? Or New York? San Francisco? Somewhere far away from here, where he was rooted, stuck, trapped. He’d never be able to follow her, wherever she went. And the way their relationship had gotten so hard with the distance between them, could he do it again? Would she even want to? Or would all of this be over, after everything they meant to each other?

By the time he’d spiraled to the point where he wondered if he’d lose her altogether were she to get kicked out of the office space, he was already putting his jacket back on and grabbing his car keys. This wasn’t just about not wanting to lose her. It was about her dreams.

It was such a small thing in the grand scheme of her business. But it would help her so much.

And it was so easy for him to do it.

So he would.

Sarah wasn’t losing that office, even if it meant he had to do things his own way.

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