Read it once.
Then again.
Then a third time because her brain felt slow.
“You own this firm?”
“One of two partners. Yes.”
Lauren looked up.
“I’m not following.”
“I need a developer.”
She blinked.
“You what?”
“I need a developer.”
“You came here to offer me a job?”
“I came here to thank you.”
He paused.
“And yes. To ask if you’d be willing to talk.”
Lauren stared at him like the floor had tilted.
“I haven’t worked in a proper software role in months.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“I asked.”
“To who?”
“Your manager. And one of the older women from the breakfast crowd. The retired school secretary who always tips with exact change.”
Mrs. Henson.
Of course.
“She knew everything,” Ethan said, almost apologetic. “You’d be surprised how much people notice when they come to the same place every day.”
Lauren’s fingers tightened around the card.
