Canary nodded. "I will. And, Lisa… take care of yourself too."
She walked out of the office after that.
——
That evening, Canary returned home to find Lucy seated in the living room, sipping tea.
She glanced up as he walked in, concern etched on her face.
"How was work today?" she asked, motioning for him to sit beside her.
Canary sighed as he sank into the couch. "Tense, as always. Some shareholders and board members are still resistant to the idea of me becoming president."
Lucy frowned. "But why? You're clearly the best person for the role."
"Politics," Canary replied, running a hand through his hair. "Some think I'm too young. Others don't like change. And Joel…" He paused, his jaw tightening.
Lucy shook her head. "Canary, I don't think Joel has any intention of leading the company. He's always been supportive of you, hasn't he?"
Canary gave her a skeptical look. "Supportive? Mom, he's always had his own agenda."
Lucy's tone softened. "I know you and Joel don't always see eye to eye, but he's family. I don't believe he'd do anything to harm you or the company. You shouldn't jump to conclusions without evidence."
Canary exhaled deeply, leaning back into the couch.
"Maybe you're right, but I can't shake the feeling that something's off. I just need to stay sharp until the vote."
Lucy patted his hand gently. "I trust your instincts, but don't let paranoia cloud your judgment. You've got this, Canary. Your father believed in you, and so do I."
Canary nodded, though doubt still lingered in his mind.
***
The following day, Lisa walked into Canary's office with a report in hand. As she placed it on his desk, she noticed the deep furrow in his brow and the distant look in his eyes.
"Canary," she said softly, her voice filled with concern, "you look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Are you okay?"
He glanced up, forcing a faint smile. "Just a lot on my mind, Lisa. The company, the upcoming vote… everything feels heavy right now."
Lisa tilted her head, studying him. "You need a break, even if it's just for a little while."
Canary raised an eyebrow. "A break? I'm not sure I can afford that right now."
She smiled, a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "Well, you don't have a choice. Tonight, I'm taking you out. No excuses."
Canary blinked, caught off guard. "You're taking me out?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "You need a distraction, and I'm not taking no for an answer."
A small, genuine smile finally broke through his tension.
"All right, Lisa. You win. I'll let you whisk me away for a while."
"Good," she said, standing. "Be ready at six ."
As she left the office, Canary leaned back in his chair, the thought of the evening already lifting some of his worry.
——-
At six sharp, Lisa stood in the parking lot, waiting for Canary. She adjusted her jacket against the cool evening air, her thoughts wandering as she glanced at her watch.
A sleek black car pulled up, and the window rolled down to reveal Canary. "Right on time," he said with a small smile.
Lisa grinned, opening the passenger door and slipping inside. "I wasn't going to let you back out of this."
As they drove out of the parking lot, their lighthearted conversation filled the car.
However, nearby, Gladys stood by the building entrance, her arms crossed as she watched them leave together.
Her brows furrowed, and she muttered to herself, "What's going on between those two?"
She turned back toward the office, suspicion written all over her face.
Canary followed Lisa's directions, curiosity sparking as they drove through quiet streets. "You're being awfully secretive," he remarked, glancing at her.
Lisa smiled mischievously. "Patience, Canary. We're almost there."
After a few more turns, she pointed to a small, charming restaurant tucked away from the main road. "Stop here."
Canary parked the car and stepped out, glancing around. "I didn't even know this place existed."
"Exactly," Lisa replied, shutting her door and walking toward the entrance. "It's my favorite spot—quiet, cozy, and completely off the radar."
As they entered, the warm glow of fairy lights and the soothing hum of soft music greeted them.
A friendly host showed them to a corner table, away from prying eyes.
Canary sat down, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in days. "You really know how to pick a place."
Lisa smiled, her eyes meeting his. "I figured you could use a little peace tonight." She muttered and scanned the menu briefly before placing an order for a local specialty.
Canary raised an eyebrow. "You're not even going to ask what I want?"
She smirked. "Trust me. You'll like it."
When the food arrived, the aroma was tantalizing—steaming bowls of hearty stew, fresh flatbread, and a side of spiced vegetables.
Canary looked at the dishes curiously, his fork hesitating.
"You've never had this before, have you?" Lisa teased, watching his reaction.
"Not even close," he admitted, taking a cautious bite. His eyes widened in surprise as the flavors burst on his palate. "This is… incredible."
Lisa chuckled. "Told you. There's more to food than your fancy rooftop menus, Mr. Anderson."
Canary laughed softly, taking another bite. "You might be onto something. This is better than I expected."
For the first time in days, the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by genuine enjoyment.