"Seven thirty," he said. "After Lily eats. No assistants, no reporters, and no one from company security inside my place."
"Agreed."
Charlotte arrived in an ordinary dark sedan, parked where Evan told her, and climbed the stairs carrying a small box of pastries she had bought at a bakery on the way. She had changed out of her business clothes into black trousers and a cream sweater. The clothes were still expensive, but their simplicity made her look less like an executive arriving to inspect a property and more like a woman uncertain whether she was welcome at somebody's dinner table. Evan opened the door before she knocked a second time.
"You didn't have to bring anything," he said.
"I wasn't sure what the rules were for visiting a home where everybody knows more about engines than I do."
"Pastries are acceptable," Evan replied. "But don't tell Lily you can afford all the cookies in the world. She'll take it as a challenge."
Lily appeared from behind the kitchen doorway, holding her metal toy car. Charlotte knelt instinctively to greet her, and the girl studied her face with the intense honesty of children. She asked whether Charlotte made the cars her father fixed. Charlotte said that hundreds of people made them and that she was lucky enough to help decide what they should build next.
"Then why did the black one break?" Lily asked.
Charlotte looked toward Evan, whose expression suggested he was enjoying her predicament more than he should. "Because some people made a mistake, and your dad was clever enough to find it."
"He listens to cars," Lily said proudly. "And sometimes to people."
The answer embarrassed Evan and pleased Charlotte in equal measure. They ate the pastries after Lily finished her homework, and Charlotte listened while she explained the elaborate city she had built for her collection of tiny vehicles. One street led to a school, another to a hospital, and a third to a repair garage where every car could go when it needed help. Charlotte pointed to the hospital and asked why it had so many doors.
"Because some people need to get in fast," Lily said. "The garage has lots of doors too, for the same reason."
Charlotte considered the child's little city. Every building had been designed around the needs of the people who used it, not the appearance of importance. It was a surprisingly difficult lesson for somebody who spent her working life approving buildings that looked impressive in architectural renderings. She thanked Lily for showing her around, then sat at the kitchen table while Evan carried the old wooden cabinet's contents into the room.