The man sitting in front of me in the restaurant was a completely different guy. He was genuinely concerned about me, my job, and my future. He made me laugh and didn’t make me feel ashamed for crying. I was starting to think maybe I hadn’t given him a fair chance. Sure, he’d always be the rich kid and I’d always be the poor one, but there was no reason we couldn’t be civil.

By the time we left the restaurant, I was feeling better. I still didn’t have a game plan, but at least it felt like someone was on my side in spirit. That meant a lot, not feeling alone.

“Do you have a car?” he asked me.

Slowly, I shook my head. The daylight was a little disorienting after spending over an hour in the dimly-lit café. “No. I take the bus wherever I need to go.”

Preston wrinkled his nose at me. “Seriously? What about when you need groceries?”

I shrugged. “Not all of us can afford eighty-five thousand dollar cars, Preston.” And then, in an effort to be less defensive, I added: “It’s only me, so I try to only get a little at a time. Lightweight stuff. Then I carry it back on the bus with me. It’s better if you use those reusable bags. They don’t break like the plastic ones do.”

He stared at me like I was from some other world. Maybe to him, I was. All he’d ever known were luxury vehicles, grand manses and summer homes, penthouse suites and personal chefs. He’d never wanted for anything a day in his life, and I sincerely doubted that Preston Harvey ever took the bus—even to school.

But he didn’t say anything. He kept his face a slate as he offered, “Well, you can’t walk home in those.” He nodded to my shoes. “I’ll drive you.”

I raised my brows. “Really? You want to spend more time with your stepsister?”

He smiled and shrugged, his buff shoulders rippling underneath his button-down. He had the blazer draped over his arm, and I didn’t blame him. It was warm out.

“You’re not all that bad,” he informed me. When I pursed my lips, he chuckled again. “Hopefully you can say the same for me.”

“Maybe,” I relented. “I’ll say this for you: you’re definitely not who I’d expected you’d be.”

Now it was Preston’s turn to arch an eyebrow. “And who were you expecting?”

“The guy who showed up late to dinner,” I said. “The one who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed with a woman. You know. A playboy. An elitist fuck.”

Preston grinned from ear to ear, one of those shit-eating grins that would have looked infuriating on anyone else. And it did look infuriating on him, too. Just not in the way I had anticipated. Beneath my annoyance was amusement, though I was loath to let it show. There was something about him, something I couldn’t quite place, but the more I was in his company, the less irritating he seemed.

I studied his face for a moment. The sun made his short, tawny hair glitter like gold, and his impossibly blue eyes sparkled like the clearest diamonds I’d ever seen. No, that wasn’t right. They were more like the bottom of a glacier: a deep, frigid hue locked away beneath a layer of ice that somehow seemed to be melting the more I stared at him.

I turned away, my heart beating in my ears and my cheeks heating up. Preston was very handsome. Maybe if we’d met under different circumstances… Maybe if our lives weren’t quite so different…

“All right,” I said, trying to clear the awkward silence between us. “I’ll go with you. I’m really not all that far from here, so you shouldn’t waste too much time.”

Preston shot me a look meant to remind me that time wasn’t something he particularly worried about. Then he ushered me down the sidewalk to his car, that beautiful Tesla I’d seen parked in the driveway of his father’s estate the first day I’d met him.

I supposed billionaires and their sons could do as they pleased, but I had to admit that I’d expected Preston to have some sort of driver. Then again, from his suit, it looked like he might have just come from a business meeting. I thought about asking him what it was about, but I didn’t know a thing about his father’s company and in all likelihood, knowing the details would only bore me.

I slid into the seat next to him, letting the cream-colored leather cradle my body. It was supple and buttery, smooth and warm, just the right temperature from having sat out in the sun half the afternoon. I had to admit that I loved the car’s design. The angles and planes were just so masculine, so clean, and the digital dashboard display was just plain nifty.

I watched him plug in my address to the built-in GPS system between the air vents. When he pulled out of the spot he’d parallel parked it, it was like we’d hardly moved until he pressed the accelerator and forced me hard into the back of my seat. The display of manly car-grunt complete, we settled into the little trip.

“I have to admit, this is a really nice ride,” I told him, admiring the contrast between the beige bottom half of the dashboard and the charcoal-colored top. “Smooth, too. Feels like we’re floating.”

“And it’s eco-friendly,” Preston said, putting on a pair of sunglasses as he merged into heavier traffic. “That’s sort of a pet interest of mine. My father owns enough factories to personally be responsible for the depletion of the ozone layer, but just because he doesn’t see how harmful it is doesn’t mean I don’t. One day, when he’s gone, I’ll change things.”

I blinked, impressed. “You’re going to save the planet?  Duly noted. Any other hobbies I should know about?”

Preston smiled. “Well, I like sailing. I like the vastness of the ocean, how you can just ride out into the center of it and there’s no one for miles around. It’s kind of like meditating, only I don’t have to clear my mind—the sea does it for me.” Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I thought Preston looked a little wistful. “I haven’t been out there in a while, though. Not since our parents got engaged.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked him.

He sighed, turning down one of the side streets the GPS had ordered him onto. “Ever since my father decided to remarry, he’s been gung-ho about inducting me into the family business—more so than usual. My best guess is that he’s considering an early retirement, but that he wants to keep the money flowing in without having to worry about what a board of directors might do with it in his absence. That falls on my shoulders. Hell, the honeymoon they’re planning means he’ll be gone over a month, and I guess that’s when he intends to hand over all of the control and responsibilities to me.”

“Jeez,” I muttered, looking out the window at the city passing us by. “What the hell are they going to do for over a month, anyway?” I winced once I heard the words come out of my mouth. “Ugh, no. Don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know.”

Preston laughed. I was beginning to like the sound of it. “Neither do I. So let’s talk about something else…” He eyed me over his shades at an intersection. “Since we’re on the subject of love lives, how’s yours?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but smile as well. “Nonexistent. You don’t have to worry about me flying off for over a month any time soon.”

“Not even a boyfriend?”

“No. Not for a while.”

“Girlfriend?”

I looked back over at him and sighed, shaking my head. “What about you?”

He hesitated long enough for me to get the idea that if there was someone, it wasn’t an official someone—or at least, nobody that he wanted to admit to. I briefly wondered if Preston was the sort of man who used his wealth to rent out escorts, but then I considered how attractive he was. With those muscles and that face, there was no way he had any trouble picking up women for free, or as “free” as a billionaire could get away with, I supposed.

“Not really,” he settled on at last. “No one I would bring home, anyway. There’s this girl, but…” He trailed off as he moved through the light. “We’re not in love, or anything. She doesn’t respect my boundaries. I called it off a few weeks ago, but she still got her claws in me. I have a feeling it’s going to get messy.”