“What should I order?” Maddy said, and I realized she probably had no idea what half the things on the menus were. I set mine down and began to unbutton my blazer to drape it over the back of my chair.

“If you like lighter fare, anything with chicken is a good bet.” I finally freed myself of the constraining jacket and sighed in relief. Finally I could feel my biceps again. “If you’re more in a dinner mood, there’s always the beef bourguignon.”

“I think I had the TV dinner version of that once,” she laughed, her eyes flitting over the myriad of items listed for her. “Um… I’ll go with that, I think. Yeah, that sounds good.”

I smiled. It felt good to see her without tears in her eyes. “And some wine?”

“You pick,” she said, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She slid her menu over to me and I took it, stacking it on top of mine.

“You can start by telling me what happened with your job,” I offered. Even though it was mid-day outside the mood lighting inside cast shadows over Maddy’s face, shadows that seemed even darker when I mentioned the dreaded j-word. “I mean, if you want to, of course.”

“I do,” she said. “I’m just so embarrassed…” She took a sip of her ice water. When she pulled the glass away, I marveled at the tiny beads that had formed on them.

She licked them away, and I watched the progress of her tongue, hoping she mistook the intensity of my stare for interest in her story.

“It wasn’t a good job,” she said, meeting my gaze. “But it was all I had. It paid the bills and the rent… and frankly, not much else.” She laughed again. This time, it sounded bitter. “That was enough for me, though. At least until I found something better.”

I nodded, parroting what I’d heard others say. “It’s hard out there right now.” I had no real idea about any of that, of course, and Maddy called me on it.

“Yeah. Not all of us can have an in with the CEO of one of the world’s most profitable companies.” But then she swallowed her anger, even though it lit up her face in a very sexy way. “Well, anyway, I’d been putting up with a lot of shit over there. More so recently, though the past few years hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park, either.” She looked at me. “Do you know that the first day I was there, the receptionist who was supposed to train me left for lunch and never came back? I had four hours’ worth of training before they threw me to the wolves.” She shook her head in amazement. “It’s a wonder I survived my first six months, let alone four years…”

“Sounds like they don’t have a clue what they’re doing,” I said, and that much was a genuine commentary on the matter. I had learned enough from my father, not to mention Harvard, to know an incompetently-run business when I saw one. Or, in this case, heard of one. “You were probably lucky to get out.”

Maddy snorted. “Yeah, in one way, but what about the other? I’m broke, Preston. Or I will be once I handle my bills and rent this month. My lease isn’t up for another eight months, and if I break it early, I’ll owe my landlord thousands.” She continued to fret until the waiter came over to take her order. As she struggled with remembering the name, I interrupted.

“She’ll have the beef bourguignon with your Chateau Musar 2011 Jeune Rouge. Bring the bottle.”

Maddy finally seemed to relax some at the promise of wine. Or at least, she did until the waiter turned to me and asked, “And for the lady’s date?”

I laughed. It wasn’t meant to offend Maddy, but I could see her cheeks flush. I waved my hand. “No, no. We’re not… she’s my sister. Well, she will be, anyway.”

“I see,” the waiter said. “My apologies. What can I get for you, Mr. Harvey?”

“The twelve-ounce Wagyu A5 Kobe, served New York strip-style,” I said. It was one of my favorites. Most people were told to order a day in advance, but I wasn’t most people. “With the regular sides.”

“Very good, Mr. Harvey,” he said. It seemed strange that he knew my name but I couldn’t remember his face, let alone anything else about him. The hostess probably tipped him off. That’s just good service. The waiter took our menus and hurried off in the direction of the kitchen while I turned my gaze back on Madison.

“Where were we?”

She blinked. “You were ordering five hundred dollars in beef, and I was telling you about how broke I am.”

I winced. “Right. Uh. Go on.”

She sighed, slumping back in her chair and tucking a strand of her chocolate brown hair behind her ear. I liked the way her nose twitched when she brushed the lock away from her face. It made the light dusting of freckles over the bridge of it dance.

“It wasn’t just stuff like that, though. There were other things that happened there. A lot of harassment, sexual and otherwise.” She didn’t look at me when she said the words, like she was ashamed of something that had been done to her by people outside of her control. “What kind of place lets their managers call their administrative assistant a cunt right to her face, just because she disagrees with him about a decision?”

I almost choked on my water. I glanced around to see if anyone else had heard my stepsister utter the dreaded c-word. “Christ. Didn’t you tell HR?”

“Of course I did,” she answered. “But what do you expect them to do about it? It’s my word against a supervisor’s, and as I understand it, that supervisor and the HR director are very good friends.”

“So… I don’t know, go over her head. Write the CEO, if you have to.”

She laughed. “Right. The CEO who doesn’t know my name, who makes more money in a day than I do in a year. He’s going to come fight my battles? I’d ask if you’d been drinking, but they haven’t even brought the wine yet.”

“There has to be something,” I insisted. I could feel my blood rushing now, boiling, burning in my chest. I didn’t get worked up about a lot of things, but for some reason the idea of someone hurting Maddy had me seeing red. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that, Madison. Not by anyone. Ever.”

She looked at me for a long time, silent and wide-eyed. There was something scrutinizing about her gaze, like she was searching my eyes for some kind of answer. By the time her lips parted, the waiter had returned and set the bottle of wine on the table between us.

“Shall I pour?” he asked me.

I tore my gaze away from Maddy. “No. I think we’ve got it.”

Although he let us be, the moment—whatever it was—was now gone. Maddy was now more interested in the wine than whatever she’d been on the cusp of saying, and I didn’t know how to ask her what exactly had been on her mind. I didn’t want to push things with her. After all, this was the first real conversation we’d ever had, and I worried that prying too hard would be a recipe for disaster.

But the more I thought about her predicament—her job, her finances, the cold-hearted bitch her mother was—the more I realized that I did, in fact, have an answer. It was the answer to the question she hadn’t asked, the question that maybe she was too proud to. But I had it all the same, and now that I understood what her silence had meant, I knew what I had to do.

I was going to change Madison Hearst’s life forever. She just didn’t know it yet.

And maybe, just maybe, I could kill two birds with one stone.

To my utter shock, lunch with my brother-to-be wasn’t the disaster I’d imagined.

Preston was a spoiled brat. I’d gleaned that much on the first day I’d met him. He’d rolled up late to a family dinner in a shiny new Tesla with a devil-may-care grin and lipstick stains on his collar. I immediately knew everything I needed to know about him from that point on—or so I’d thought.