"Mr. Everett," she said, her voice respectful but guarded.
I stepped in and pressed the button for the garage. The doors slid shut, sealing us in the quiet steel box.
"We're off the clock," I said, watching her reflection in the polished metal doors. "Call me Phineas."
She hesitated. Her lips parted, but the name stuck in her throat. She couldn't bridge the gap.
"Thank you... for today," she said softly instead. "I owe you a huge favor. Again."
I turned to face her, a faint smile playing on my lips. "You do."
An opportunity presented itself.
"My chef is off tonight," I lied smoothly. "You live in the apartment below mine. Cook dinner for me."
She blinked, taken aback. "Cook? For you? To repay the favor?"
"Consider it a transaction," I said. "Do you accept?"
"Okay," she said slowl
