Ethan also offered to connect her with an employment adviser who could help her challenge the damaging statements in her employment record.
He didn’t promise to solve everything that night.
He promised to help her get a fair hearing.
For Clara, that was almost as difficult to believe as the formula sitting on her counter.
At the door, Ethan put on his coat.
“Someone from my office will call you tomorrow afternoon. You can decide whether you’d like to meet with us.”
Clara followed him into the hallway.
“Mr. Mercer?”
He turned.
“Why are you doing this? Really?”
He looked past her toward the small apartment.
For a moment, the polished billionaire disappeared.
In his place stood a man remembering a freezing Queens apartment, a tired mother, and the years when he had watched her count coins at the kitchen table.
“Because thirty years ago, my mother needed help,” he said quietly. “She knocked on doors, asked people for small loans, and tried to keep me warm when our apartment had no heat.”
