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I feel somewhat emotionally raw when I finish, but I also feel… lighter somehow. It’s been years since I talked to anyone about what my childhood was actually like. Ford and Gabriel already know all the details, and I’ve covered it extensively in therapy. But it feels unexpectedly good to share this part of myself with someone new who clearly cares about the answer.

We’ve completed several circuits around the garden during my storytelling, so I guide her toward the gazebo nestled at the back of the property. It’s positioned on a slight rise surrounded by mature trees, offering a perfect view of the covered swimming pool below. During the summer, it’s where the adults would retreat for shade and lunch while supervising pool activities, staying close enough to keep an eye on things without getting splashed.

It offers a beautiful view even with the pool closed for winter, and after all that walking, it feels good to sit down together.

“What about you?” I ask, genuinely curious about her perspective.

“What do you mean?”

I lean back against the gazebo railing, studying her face. “I wanted to become powerful so I’d never need to depend on anyone else for family or security. I wanted money and professional success to fill the emptiness in my life. I was lucky enough to find some real family along the way too.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “But what drives you? I know you’ve mentioned your dreams before, and I know Ford is paying you well for this arrangement.”

Maeve exhales slowly, her breath creating a small cloud in the crisp winter air. “You know how much I love cooking and baking?”

I nod, remembering all the times she’s brought homemade treats to the office.

“I want to open a farm-to-table restaurant.”

“Seriously?” I ask, not insultingly but with genuine surprise. I knew she was passionate about food, but I hadn’t realized she was considering it as a career path.

She nods, although she still looks nervous about sharing this dream, unconsciously biting her lower lip.

“Tell me about it,” I encourage her.

She hesitates for just a moment—but then she does. And keeps going. And going.

It turns out Maeve has this entire venture planned down to the smallest detail. What she’ll grow on-site versus what she’ll source from local farms. The seasonal menu items and how they’ll rotate based on what’s actually available. The supply chain logistics and staff requirements.

“I know that in our modern world, we’ve gotten used to having any food we want year-round,” she says, her face flushed with passion and her eyes glowing. “But that system is fundamentally broken. The food quality suffers when it’s out of season, and the environmental and human cost is enormous. We’re exploiting workers and communities in less economically stable countries, forcing crops to grow in climates they’re not suited for. There’s a better way to do this—one that treats workers fairly and works with the environment instead of against it. I don’t want to be someone who just puts on a show with fancy food that looks impressive to wealthy people. I’m not doing this to be elitist. I want to lead by example and show people there’s a better way.”

She continues, discussing the types of bread she’ll make from scratch, the comprehensive vegan and vegetarian options, and how she’ll accommodate various allergies and dietary restrictions. She explains her philosophy about not trying to create pale imitations of traditional dishes.

“You can’t successfully imitate something, because you’ll always fall short of the original,” she insists with fierce conviction. “You have to celebrate the ingredients you’re actually using. Don’t try to make fake butter—instead, celebrate how certain vegetables, when properly prepared, have their own naturally rich, buttery qualities. Bring out what’s amazing about what you’re working with, because if you focus on comparison and imitation, you’ll always disappoint.”

She describes her vision for the restaurant’s atmosphere and design, how many employees she’ll need, and even presents detailed financial projections including timelines for profitability and loan repayment strategies.

My mind is blown. If anyone came to us with an investment proposal this thoroughly researched and thoughtfully planned, I’d be ready to write a check immediately. We rarely encounter entrepreneurs who’ve considered every possible angle with this level of detail, including contingency plans for various scenarios.

When I tell her this, she blushes beautifully. “Well, I’ve had plenty of time to think it all through. With the debt from my education and my mother’s financial sabotage, I haven’t had any real opportunity to pursue this dream. So I just kept planning and refining every detail. It was the only thing I could do.”

“I think it’s incredible,” I tell her with complete honesty.

Her blush deepens, and she looks almost shy. “I know I’m probably rambling on and on…”

“But it’s wonderful,” I interrupt, shifting closer so I can put my arm around her shoulders and turn her face toward mine. “Maeve, I mean every word.”

Her eyes widen slightly and the color in her cheeks intensifies. I know I don’t use her first name very often, but this feels important. I need her to really hear what I’m saying.

“All you’re missing is financial freedom, right? I know debt can feel impossible to overcome. But Ford is paying you generously for this arrangement, so that addresses the immediate problem. With the business plan you just described, you’ll qualify for any loans you need to make this happen, and I’m certain you’ll build something successful.”

“It’s just a restaurant,” she protests weakly.

I reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her soft cheek. “I wanted to become successful for my own protection and validation. You want to nourish people. You want to show them how beautiful and accessible good food can be. You want to create connection—to love people through what you create for them. Because that’s what you do when you cook and bake, isn’t it? It’s how you express love. You’re building your own chosen family by treating your future customers like they matter.”

Maeve’s eyes fill with tears that she quickly tries to wipe away. “When you put it like that… you make it sound like my idea is actually something meaningful.”

“It is meaningful,” I say firmly. “It’s beautiful. Just like you.”

She stares at me with those gorgeous eyes, and I find myself staring right back at this amazing, brilliant, passionate, sexy woman who somehow makes me want to be better than I’ve ever been. I lean in slightly, or maybe she does—we both move toward each other, but I don’t close that final gap just yet.