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How, instead of simple excitement at being in the room with the A-team of Wall Street, my eager heart wanting to learn and contribute, I found myself silently observing, my eyes skating over the imposing man at the head of the table, cataloging the way his hair is immaculately styled, not a strand out of place, but the dark circles under his eyes more prominent under the stark lighting.

I couldn’t help noticing the way his muscles seemed tense, how there was an overall weariness in his frame, and I wondered if he wasn’t sleeping at night again. He wouldn’t tell me when I’d asked him in the morning. But I suspected that was the case.

And when his eyes caught mine, I’d imagined the piercing intensity reflected in the cool hazel tones were for me, his friend, because he would sense my concern for him.

His beautiful lips would slightly tip up on one side and I would find myself doing the same.

My pulse fluttered, and I sat up taller.

Then he looked away, addressing the rest of the room.

These barely visible, split-second moments feel like the beginnings of an ancient script on a well-worn tapestry, writing I don’t understand, yet has been there since the dawn of time. Perhaps we are all just players in a story written long ago in the stars.

After that group meeting and another small smile of acknowledgement as we passed by each other in the hallway the same day, nothing has changed. No more mention of friendship or having a life outside of work.

Neither of us has addressed the bet or the evening at Lunasia.

If it weren’t for the quiet encounters every morning, where he’d share my breakfast under the lone lamplight from my desk, it almost felt as if nothing happened. As if everything were figments of my imagination.

Then, he went on a business trip, leaving me in the office haunted by strange thoughts and a pit in my stomach which seemed to grow over time .

“Grace? Hello? You okay? You mentioned you found a lead on your father the other day?”

Millie’s soft voice draws my attention back to the girls, finding them staring at me quizzically. Taylor’s hand is frozen midair, as if she was about to grab her drink but got sidetracked by what she’s seeing on my face.

“Sorry, I’m thinking of some things.” I smile, fiddling with the cup in my hands. “I found some old love letters tucked behind the bookshelf.”

Taylor sits up straighter. I haven’t gotten a chance to show them to her yet.

But during my careful dismantling of our furniture in my poor girl’s search for our birth father, I found a stack of yellow envelopes, with the postage stamps still intact, bound in twine and wedged behind a few dusty volumes of books I’ve never seen Mom read.

“I wish Mom would just tell us so we don’t have to play detective. We’re grown women, we can handle the truth, whatever it is.” Taylor sighs. “Anyway, what’s in the letters?”

“I haven’t gone through all of them, but the man didn’t sign his name and there wasn’t an address for the sender on the envelope. But the penmanship is beautiful, and from what I’ve read so far, it seems like he comes from money.”

Taylor snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course he is rich. Rich men are pigs.”

I nod, the same belief carved into my heart by the currents of time and disappointments.

But not all rich men are bad. What about Steven?

I flinch, a pounding kicking off inside my chest. Bringing the cup to my face, I inhale the smoothness of the alcohol and toss back my drink in one gulp, relishing the scorching burn, which brings tears to my eyes.

I clear my throat, forcing my thoughts to drift to something else.

“Anyway, more to come on that. Eventually, I’ll make enough money to hire an investigator and we’ll get our answers once and for all.

For now, my internship at an investment bank is hard as expected.

Long hours, cutthroat environment, but I’m learning a lot.

My cubicle neighbor, Jamie, is pretty awesome, and mostly everyone treats me well. I’m learning a lot. Definitely a lot.”

“You’ve said that three times now. Sis, everything good with you?

I see you with the same strange, vacant expression at home too.

Something doesn’t feel right. I don’t think this is just from finding those letters alone.

I mean, you’ve been searching for answers ever since you could read.

Something else is going on.” Taylor narrows her eyes and points her black polish tipped finger toward me.

“Come on, guys. I’m good. You’re all overthinking.”

“And you’re working for the King of Wall Street, right? How’s that?” Millie asks, her eyes sympathetic, as if she can sense the confusion swirling in my mind.

“It’s fine.” That’s all you guys are going to get from me.

Millie gulps down her sake and lets out a sigh. “There’s something I’ve never told you guys, but I think it’s time for me to share.”

We look up and find her biting her lip, nervously twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

She grimaces and takes a deep breath. “Your boss is my brother-in-law.”

“What? Steven Kingsley is your brother-in-law?”

Millie nods. “You guys have heard of Adrian Scott, right?”

We all blink. “Of course. I’ve actually been working on some investments for him at the firm,” I reply.

The lip biting is back again and Millie swallows. “Adrian’s my brother.”

“What? You’re loaded? ” Taylor shrieks next to me.

“So why do I have to buy you freakin’ gummy bears every time we’re out and about?

You should buy me gummy bears. And none of the no brand shitty ones.

I want Haribo, the classic ones made in Germany from now on.

” She grins and throws out a teasing wink.

Belle waves her away. “Tay, missing the point here. Why didn’t you tell us? And don’t you guys have different last names? ”

Millie looks down sheepishly. “It’s a long story, but my brother changed his last name in college for a very complicated reason I won’t go into.

And well, I just don’t want people to meet me and think…

heiress or rich girl, and I try to stay out of those circles.

I’ve always wanted to tell you girls, but the opportunity never came up and I didn’t want you to look at me differently. ”

“What? I’m thrilled. Now I can have two sugar mamas.” Taylor grins and I swallow a laugh, still trying to process how I’ve had this tenuous connection to Steven all along.

“How is that possible?” I whisper under my breath.

It almost seems like the fates have been conspiring behind my back, and at some point, one way or another I’d meet him.

And I’d end up here.

Which is nowhere, Grace. You had a moment of alcohol-induced connection, which is a physical reaction to listening to a beautiful man with an equally sexy voice singing a song about undying love. Anyone would feel unsettled.

Nothing happened. Men are still unreliable. Mind over body.

I’ll never become my mom.

Nevertheless, if she’s my boss’s sister-in-law, maybe she can give me more information about him. Shed the mystery. Scuff up the shine. A magician’s trick always dulls when the behind-the-scenes come to light.

“Is he always so intense?” I stare at the empty plate in front of me, willing my face not to twitch.

“Steven?” Millie thinks for a few moments.

“He’s always been the quiet, broody type.

A workaholic through and through. I think he and my brother have an unhealthy fascination with work.

But Adrian is better now that he’s with Emily.

He actually takes time to enjoy life. Steven, on the other hand, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him not work.

Even at family events, he’d take out his phone and type emails or get on conference calls. ”

The thought of him working himself to the bones makes me sad. I swallow the lump growing in my throat.

“So…he never has fun or…dates?” I gnaw on my bottom lip. Why did you ask that? It doesn’t matter to you.

“He’s fun when he wants to be, and I guess we have a good time hanging out at family gatherings. Hold on a second.” Millie clears her throat and I glance up, finding her eyes narrowed at me. “Why are you asking me if he dates?”

“Just curious about the boss.” I pour myself another drink and take a sip from the cup, hoping my face isn’t flushed.

“Hmm…” she muses, trading glances with Belle and Taylor.

“Not buying it. But to answer your question, I’ve never seen him with a girlfriend.

Not that I blame him. Any woman he brings home will probably be crucified by his mom.

Mrs. Kingsley gave Adrian so much grief when he fell in love with Emily and, from what I heard, that also happened to their oldest sister, Jess, as well.

I don’t blame him for trying to stay single to avoid his mom’s wrath. ”

Somehow, I don’t think his mom is the driving factor of his bachelor status. I don’t know how I know that, but it’s a gut feeling. A sixth sense. There’s a sadness radiating from him, like he’s hiding his scars behind fancy suits and dollar signs. My heart clenches at the thought.

A waiter brings the bill to the table and Millie snatches it, waving her wallet in my face before slapping a card on the tray. “This is an apology from me for keeping the secret from you guys and also to celebrate Taylor’s admission!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us? We’re just heading over to Millie’s classmate’s party near our apartment.” Belle arches an elegant brow in my direction while she gathers her things and Millie scribbles her signature on the receipt.

I shake my head. “Nah. I’m good. You girls have fun. I’m just going to walk on the High Line and enjoy the night before I head home. Tay, stay at their place if it gets too late. Don’t want you walking around our neighborhood in the middle of the night.”

Taylor salutes me. “Yes, ma’am. ”

I’m hoping some evening air strolling along the famous manicured pathways will somehow get me out of my strange funk and back to reality once more.