### Chapter 2: Seven Minutes

It was late at night when Mark, a single father and janitor, found himself standing in the grand lobby of Thompson Industries.

The marble floors gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights, reflecting the stark contrast between the polished corporate world and his own life, which was anything but.

The air smelled faintly of coffee and lemon cleaner, a scent he had grown accustomed to during his long shifts.

He was finishing up, thinking only about getting home to tuck his 8-year-old daughter, Emily, into bed.

As he pushed his broom across the floor, lost in thoughts of bedtime stories and the warmth of his daughter’s laughter, he heard footsteps echoing from the executive wing.

They were fast, sharp, and uneven, cutting through the stillness of the lobby.

When he looked up, he saw her: Clare Thompson, the CEO of the company.

Normally, she carried herself like a queen—confident, graceful, untouchable.

But tonight, her eyes were wide with fear, and her usually immaculate blazer was half-buttoned, her lipstick smudged.

She looked like someone who had just stepped out of a nightmare.

Mark’s heart raced as he watched her approach.

“Please,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder, her voice trembling.

“Pretend you kiss me for seven minutes.

”

Mark froze, his broom slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor.

“What?” he stammered, caught off guard.

“Just pretend you’re my boyfriend,” she urged, her eyes darting toward the elevator, where the doors had just slid open.

A man in a tailored suit stepped out, his face red with anger.

“Clare,” he barked, his voice sharp as a knife.

“We’re not done talking.

”

Clare grabbed Mark’s sleeve, desperation etched on her face.

“Please,” she whispered again, the silent plea for help snapping Mark into action.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said loudly, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on her shoulder as if they were an ordinary couple.

“You’re late.

I was starting to worry.

”

Clare’s relief was instant.

She leaned into him, the tension in her body easing as she pretended they were close.

The man’s jaw clenched, but he hesitated, eyeing Mark with suspicion.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Mark said evenly, meeting the man’s gaze without flinching.

“And if you don’t mind, she’s done talking to you tonight.

”

The man’s nostrils flared, but after a moment’s pause, he turned around, muttering something under his breath as he stormed out of the building.

When the glass doors closed behind him, Clare exhaled shakily.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“You just saved me from something I didn’t know how to escape.

”

Mark smiled awkwardly, his heart still racing.

“Glad to help, ma’am.

I didn’t mean to pretend too hard.

”

She actually laughed, a sound that seemed to release all the tension in the air.

“You did perfectly,” she said.

“Seven minutes of pretending, and you made me feel safe again.

”

Later that night, as Mark gathered his things to leave, he found Clare waiting for him by the door.

She looked different now—calmer, softer.

“Can I walk you to your car?” she asked.

He blinked, surprised.

“You want to walk me?”

She smiled.

“It’s the least I can do.

”

They walked side by side through the empty parking lot.

The night air was cool, and for a moment, the world felt still.

“Who was that guy?” Mark finally asked, breaking the silence.

“My ex,” she said quietly.

“A powerful investor.

When I ended things, he didn’t take it well.

He followed me after a late meeting tonight.

”

Mark frowned.

“That’s not right.

You should call the police.

”

“I did,” she replied.

“They’re handling it now.

But thank you for stepping in.

You didn’t even know me, and you helped anyway.

”

Mark shrugged, feeling a warmth spread in his chest.

“My daughter always says, ‘Be kind first, think later.

’ Guess she’s rubbing off on me.

”

Clare smiled at that.

“Your daughter sounds wise.

”

“She is,” Mark said softly.

“Her name’s Emily.

She’s the reason I take this job.

I just want to give her a better life.

”

Over the next few weeks, something unexpected happened.

Clare started noticing Mark around the office, not just as a janitor, but as someone who always smiled, always helped others without asking for anything back.

If an employee spilled coffee, Mark was there before they could even grab paper towels.

When the receptionist’s car battery died, he jumped it in the rain, never seeking praise or recognition for his efforts.

One morning, Clare saw him sitting in the break room during his break, reading a worn-out storybook.

“That for your daughter?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

He nodded, a hint of pride in his voice.

“She loves when I read to her, even over video call.

She stays with my sister while I work nights.

”

Clare’s heart softened.

In Mark, she saw something she’d lost somewhere along her climb to the top: humility, sincerity, and warmth.

That same day, she made a decision that would change both their lives.

A week later, Clare called Mark into her office.

He walked in nervously, holding his cap in his hands, unsure of what to expect.

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” he asked, glancing around the room.

She smiled warmly.

“No, Mark.

Something’s right.

I’ve been watching your work, and it’s time you got the recognition you deserve.

”

Mark looked confused.

“Recognition?”

“I spoke with HR,” she continued.

“There’s an opening in the maintenance department for a supervisor.

Better hours, better pay.

I think you’d be perfect for it.

”

Mark’s mouth fell open.

“Me? A supervisor?”

Clare nodded.

“You’ve already been one—just without the title.

”

His eyes filled with tears as the weight of her words sank in.

“I don’t know what to say.

”

“Say yes,” she said gently.

He did.

Months passed, and Mark thrived in his new role.

His daughter Emily started attending a better school, and he finally had evenings free to spend with her.

They’d go to the park, eat ice cream, and laugh under the fading sunlight—simple moments that meant the world to them.

Clare, too, changed.

That night had reminded her that strength doesn’t always wear a suit or sit in a corner office.

Sometimes it wears a janitor’s uniform and carries kindness in its pocket.

She often visited Mark and Emily, sometimes bringing small gifts, sometimes just stories from her busy day.

Emily adored her, calling her “Aunt Clare.

” Their bond grew, built not on status but on humanity.

One rainy evening nearly a year later, Clare was hosting a company charity event.

The ballroom glittered with lights and laughter, everyone dressed in black tie except Mark, who nervously tugged at the tie she’d insisted he wear.

When it was time for speeches, Clare stepped up to the microphone.

“Tonight,” she began, “we’re here to celebrate success, but real success isn’t about profit or power.

It’s about kindness.

” Her gaze swept the room until it landed on Mark.

“I’d like to tell you about someone who reminded me of that,” she continued.

“A man who showed compassion without hesitation, who acted when he could have walked away.

Because of his kindness, I’m here tonight—safe, stronger, and deeply grateful.

”

The crowd turned toward Mark, who turned bright red as applause filled the room.

Clare smiled warmly.

“Mark, would you join me on stage?”

He shook his head, embarrassed, but she waved him up anyway.

When he finally stood beside her, she leaned close and whispered, “Seven minutes changed everything.

Thank you.

”

Then she announced a new initiative in his honor—a scholarship fund for single parents pursuing education, named the Emily Foundation.

Tears filled Mark’s eyes as the audience stood and clapped, recognition finally shining down on him.

After the event, Clare found Mark outside, standing beneath the rain, staring at the city lights.

“You okay?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

He nodded slowly, just overwhelmed.

“I never thought helping someone for seven minutes could change my whole life.

”

Clare smiled.

“That’s the thing about kindness.

It never stops at seven minutes.

It echoes forever.

”

Mark looked at her then, really looked, and said, “You know, my daughter asked me once why people are kind.

I didn’t know what to tell her, but now I think I do.

”

“What’s that?” Clare asked, intrigued.

He smiled softly.

“Because it makes the world feel like home.

”

And maybe that’s what kindness really is—not grand gestures or perfect words, but small human moments that remind us we belong to one another.

Mark went back to his job with pride, not just as a janitor or supervisor, but as someone who’d proven that one act of compassion can rewrite an entire story.

Clare continued leading her company, but her heart was different—kinder, fuller, more open.

And as for Emily, she grew up knowing that her dad was a hero, not because he fought battles or wore a cape, but because he chose to care when no one else did.

So remember this: sometimes life will give you seven minutes to make a difference.

Take them.

You never know whose world you might change or how it might change yours.