“So you see, this client last week…”

Across from me, one Windsor Kiperman droned on and on. He was a good-looking enough guy, dark brown hair, streaked through with gold, and amazing hazel eyes. But he was so hung up on work, it was amazing he hadn’t choked on it.

I nodded politely, trying my best to look like I was interested.

Really, I should be.

He was good looking and well off, and our fathers were very good friends. His father was also one of my dad’s biggest campaign contributors.

In the eyes of my family, it was probably a match made in heaven.

In my eyes, it was a match made in the doldrums. I had never been so bored in my entire life. It wasn’t that Windsor was a bad guy or anything. He wasn’t. He opened doors, he’d called up and asked if I had an opinion on where we should go to eat, he was polite, attentive during the drive over.

And he was so perfectly…boring.

Finally – finally – he wrapped up his conversation about the client, and I leaned forward, smiling. “What was the last movie you saw?”

If he kept talking about work, I just might cry.

He stared at me with a blank expression.

“I absolutely loved the Avengers movie that came out last spring. Did you see it?” I continued to smile as I reached for my wine, wondering if my face would hurt from that fake, plastic smile.

“Hmmm. No. Those movies don’t appeal to me.” His comment wasn’t rude. It was just a statement – a polite, boring statement. “I seldom have time for movies. I’m rather surprised, I heard you do…charity work?”

He left the statement hanging, as though it was a question.

“My charity work?”

“Yes, I understand you’re involved in some philanthropic sort of business.” He sliced a precise cut off his steak and popped it in his mouth.

I hadn’t been able to stop from noticing that he cut his food in an obsessively neat way. It was like he practically measured how wide of a bite to cut, how long.

You’re obsessing, Piety!

“Ah, yes. I suppose you could call it a philanthropy sort of thing.” I shrugged. “I’m a social worker. I work at a homeless shelter.”

“You work there?” Windsor arched his brows. Now, instead of slicing off another perfect bite of steak, he laid his fork down and leaned forward. Puzzlement stamped all over his features, he studied me.

“Yes. It’s a home for battered women and their children.” I expected his eyes to glaze over, but he nodded, looking almost interested.

“I didn’t realize you actually worked there. I assume you get a paycheck?”

I rolled my eyes. “Barely. Their budget isn’t much, but I love my job, and it’s an important one.”

Windsor nodded slowly. “I imagine it is. I’ve been attempting to convince my father into getting the company more involved in philanthropy, and perhaps getting the employees to jump on board, but he’s…slow to see the benefits.”

“The benefits are helping people out.”

“Yes, of course. That’s always a positive thing.” He shrugged, his eyes sliding away. “But that’s not an argument that would work with him. You know, this is interesting. I didn’t know you actually worked at this facility. Fascinating.”

I’d heard too many similar comments, most of them with more than a tinge of superiority, to be insulted. At least Windsor seemed to mean it when he said it sounded fascinating.

“Yes, well, my parents would much rather it be true philanthropy.” I played with the napkin in my lap. “Dad loves how it looks in front of the camera, but that’s the only way it appeals to him.”

It sounded terrible and made me feel even worse than before. I felt awful about how Kaleb had taken them for all that money – that was how I ended up here.

I still didn’t want to believe he had done it. But he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted. Without any sort of explanation, what was I supposed to think?

You’re not supposed to be thinking about him at all.

Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “So if you’re not into movies, what do you do for fun?” No more thinking about Kaleb.

“Well…” He shrugged sheepishly. “To be honest, I really don’t do much for fun. I just don’t have time.”

“Oh, come on…everyone has time for a little bit of fun.” I pushed my hair back from my ear and stopped myself from playing with a strand. “I managed to read for about fifteen minutes a day no matter how busy I am. I go crazy if I don’t get in something to entertain me. Do you work out, go to the gym?”

“I…work…all the time.” He held up a hand. “Sometimes I play golf with a client.”

“But that’s work too.”

He laughed. “True. I’ll be able to slow down later on in life. Right now, I’m still trying to get established and show my dad I can take care of the job. I’ll be the one taking over when he retires, you know.” He cocked his head, that inquisitive, puzzled look on his face. “What about you? Have you ever thought about going into politics? Following in your father’s footsteps?”

“Crap.” I shuddered at the thought. “No.”

He laughed. “You look like you just ate something that tasted really, really bad.”

“I feel like I tasted something really, really bad. There’s no way I would go into politics.” I gave an emphatic shake of my head.

“So what do you plan on doing?” The genuine interest in his voice was…sweet.

But he didn’t get it.

“I’m already doing it.” I shrugged. “I love what I do. Sometimes it breaks my heart. Some of it drains me and leaves me exhausted. But at the end of the day, I’m making a difference. That…matters. It’s enough for me.”

At least it always had been.

I didn’t feel quite so ready to dive into work, although it wasn’t work that was getting to me. I was just finding life in general lacking.

And I knew why.

Kaleb.

There it was again…I was thinking about him.

“What about your father? Don’t you think he’s making a difference? Don’t you think he might want something…more?”

“Do you really think that politics can offer more? More what…headaches?” I laughed a little. “No. I don’t think so.”

Windsor seemed to realize he was about to step in it. “I’m sorry.”

I waved him off. “It’s okay. Not everybody gets it, but they don’t need to. I’m happy with what I do. I’m more than happy. I feel…complete. At the end of the day, I’m satisfied. I make time for myself, and I do things for fun – now – and I don’t feel the need to do anything to prove myself to anybody. I’m good.”

“I think I envy you,” Windsor said softly.

It surprised me.

“Nothing is stopping you from finding what would make you happy – except you.” I held his eyes for a moment.

“True. But my priorities are more important than just being happy.”