At last she looked toward Daniel. "The man who returned my wallet is here tonight. I asked his permission to tell this much of the story, and I promised I would not turn him into a symbol of something he never agreed to represent. So I will simply say thank you, Daniel. Not because you gave me something new, but because you returned something I thought I'd lost and reminded me to notice what was still in front of me."
Daniel lifted his eyes. For a moment their gaze held across the crowded room, and the surrounding noise seemed strangely far away. He nodded once, not performing for the audience, simply answering her. Victoria turned back to the microphone and concluded with the future of the company as she now understood it: a business that could grow without forgetting the human purposes for which it made things.
When she stepped away from the podium, the applause rose slowly and then filled the room. Ethan, standing near the side entrance, set down his glass and joined in. He was not applauding the acquisition or the clever construction of a speech. He was applauding the fact that his employer had admitted a truth in public without first arranging for it to make her look invulnerable.
After the ceremony, several employees approached Daniel. A young product designer spoke about her grandfather's workshop, and an assembly supervisor asked whether Daniel had ever considered teaching repair methods to younger workers. Daniel answered their questions with patience, sometimes redirecting praise toward the other people who had helped create the designs they admired. He was comfortable talking about the work, though when someone called him an inspiration, he looked faintly embarrassed and said he hoped they would keep asking better questions about how furniture was made.
Victoria joined him when the crowd thinned. She asked whether the speech had been too personal. He told her she had spoken about her own experience and kept her promise not to use him as a dramatic prop. He added that she had made several people in the room feel seen, and that the important part would be whether they still felt that way when the company returned to normal business.
"You never let me enjoy a victory without assigning homework," she said.
"You run a business. I thought you liked homework."
She smiled. "I used to think I liked being finished. Now I suspect the work is never finished."
Daniel took her coat from the attendant and helped her into it. The gesture was ordinary, but she felt its care more keenly than she had ever felt the elaborate attention of a hired driver. They left the hotel through a side entrance, where the rain had stopped and the cold air smelled faintly of wet stone. Victoria looked toward the waiting company car, then asked whether they could go to his house instead.