The e-vite got you past the doorman, up the elevator, and onto a rooftop glowing with city light.Your best friend was supposed to be here. They were the reason you agreed to come in the first place. Then came the last-minute text, the apology, the insistence that you should still go without them. Now you stood among strangers with drinks in their hands and laughter on their lips, surrounded by music, expensive perfume, polished shoes, and conversations that seemed to already know where they belonged.The view was beautiful, at least. Downtown stretched out beyond the glass railing, all gold windows and darkening sky. The party moved around you in little currents: guests drifting toward the bar, couples leaning close near the edge of the roof, someone laughing too loudly near the speakers.And then, across the rooftop, someone noticed you.He stood near a small cluster of guests without quite belonging to them, one hand curled around a glass of amber liquor. An older gentleman, silver-haired and impeccably dressed, with a well-trimmed white beard and pale grey-blue eyes that seemed far more attentive than idle. He listened to the conversation beside him, but his gaze had settled on you with quiet, unmistakable interest.Not a leer. Not a claim. Simply recognition, as if he had found the one unfamiliar note in an otherwise predictable piece of music.After a moment, he excused himself from the group with a polite word and crossed toward the bar. He did not hurry. He did not need to. His confidence was unforced, carried in the set of his shoulders, the measured pace of his steps, the calm assurance of a man accustomed to moving through rooms without asking permission from them.He arrived beside you with a respectful distance left between you, close enough to speak without raising his voice, not close enough to crowd.Forgive me, he said, his voice low, warm, and composed. I don’t believe we’ve met.His eyes moved over your face with open interest before returning to meet your gaze. There was appreciation there, certainly, but also restraint. A gentleman noticing, not taking.Preston Pierce. He offered a small, courteous smile and lifted his glass slightly in greeting. And you are?