Gordon had his principles.

No way was he ever going to cry over some girl.

Never. Not in a million years.

Skyler sniffled, his voice shaky. "Uncle Gordon, it's easy for you to talk tough now, but that's only because you've never gone through something like this! Just wait- when it happens to you, you'll get it! And anyway, there's nothing embarrassing about crying over a girl. My mom always says, everyone has to suffer for love at some point!"

Gordon, unfazed, barely glanced at him. "Don't lump me in with you."

"I can't wait for you to fall flat on your face, Uncle!" Skyler shot back, then promptly burst into even louder sobs.

He was really going for it: blubbering, sniffling, tears streaming down his cheeks. Before Gordon could dodge, Skyler leaned against him, clearly about to wipe his nose and tears all over Gordon's sleeve. Gordon grimaced, pushing Skyler's forehead away with his palm. "Hey, hands off. This shirt is hand-stitched and imported-costs more than most people's cars. Don't even think about it."

Hearing that, Skyler's crying only intensified.

He was already heartbroken over his breakup, and now his own uncle was making him feel even worse.

Did his feelings really matter less than some expensive shirt?

So unfair!

"If I ruin it, I'll pay for the cleaning, okay?" Skyler choked out, still sniffling.

Only then did Gordon withdraw his hand.

He did have a bit of a neat freak streak, but this was his favorite nephew. He'd just have to grit his teeth and bear it.

For the next ten minutes, Skyler leaned on Gordon's shoulder, weeping like the world was ending. No sign he was going to stop anytime soon.

"That's enough," Gordon finally said, sounding more than a little exasperated.

"It's not enough," Skyler hiccupped. "Uncle, this is my first breakup ever."

"Do you have any idea how much my time is worth?" Gordon checked his watch. "I've already wasted sixteen minutes sitting here with you."

"Uncle! You're talking about money at a time like this. Are you even really my uncle? Ugh..." Skyler felt like his heart had dropped into a freezer.

Gordon lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. "Tell me, if I wasn't your uncle, do you think I'd still be sitting here?"

Skyler thought to himself: Maybe Uncle Gordon does care about me... but just a little.

--

Meanwhile

Caitlin stepped out of Central Academy, paperwork in hand.

Early spring in Silverhaven was still chilly; the wind cut right through her coat. She was bundled in a pale lavender down jacket, a fluffy hat pulled low over her delicate face, looking like she'd stepped out of a painting. She wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, pulled out her phone, and was just about to order a ride when a luxury car glided to a stop beside her.

The window slid down smoothly.

A handsome face appeared-sharp features, confident smile. The man greeted her with easy charm. "Miss Kensington. What a coincidence."

Caitlin was caught off guard. Did she know him?

Noticing her confusion, the young man gave a wry, almost amused smile. "You really don't recognize me? It's Farrell-Farrell Ryan. From the airport yesterday..."

The moment he said it, Caitlin remembered.

"Of course, Mr. Ryan."

Farrell stepped out and opened the passenger door for her. "Miss Kensington, I never got the chance to thank you properly for yesterday. Since we've run into each other again, how about lunch?"

Caitlin was about to refuse, but Farrell pressed on, "Come on, Miss Kensington, be a sport. I hate owing people."

With that, it would've seemed rude to turn him down again. She gave a gracious nod. "All right."

"Any dietary restrictions?" Farrell asked.

"None at all. I'm not picky."

He smiled. "I know a great place just around the corner."

With a flourish, Farrell held the door open. "After you, Miss Kensington."

Caitlin slid into the front seat.

At that moment, a Rolls-Royce Phantom glided past them.

Gordon had just left the Cumming estate.

From the backseat, he happened to glance out the window—and froze when he

caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in a lavender coat and hat.

Even though most of her face was hidden, Gordon recognized her instantly.

Caitlin.

He sat up straight, peering outside just in time to see Farrell shutting the passenger door and walking around to the driver's side.

A man.

It was a man.

Gordon's eyes narrowed sharply.

Who the hell was that guy?

And why was Caitlin getting into his car?

Questions tumbled through Gordon's mind, his heart suddenly tight in his chest.

Had he seen wrong?

No, it had to be a mistake.

Caitlin didn't know many people in this city. Besides, when he'd invited her out for

a bite at that little diner yesterday, she'd said she was busy. Why would she suddenly have time to climb into some stranger's car?

Gordon took a deep breath, but his thoughts were already chasing after that Maybach speeding off down the street.