Clare thought she had invited a lonely stranger to Thanksgiving dinner—until she discovered the man sharing her booth was the billionaire owner of the company that had just decided whether she would keep her job.

Daniel stared at the little orange card Lily had pushed toward him.

DANIEL — OUR TABLE.

For several seconds, he didn't say anything.

Then he looked at the eleven-year-old girl sitting across from him.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Keep it."

"Why?"

Lily shrugged as though the answer were obvious.

"So you remember you weren't alone tonight."

Something tightened behind Daniel's ribs.

He had spent three years becoming very good at being alone.

He had learned how to eat dinner without turning toward the empty chair beside him. He had learned to walk past the bakery where his wife used to buy cinnamon rolls without stopping. He had learned that holidays were easier if he treated them like ordinary Tuesdays.

And yet an eleven-year-old girl had dismantled three years of emotional armor with one sentence.

Clare noticed the change in his expression.

"Lily has a habit of adopting people."

"I do not."

"You absolutely do."

"Mom adopted Mrs. Alvarez's cat."

"The cat was homeless."

"The cat had a collar."

"It was decorative."

Daniel laughed.

It was the first real laugh he'd had that day.

He folded the card carefully and placed it inside his wallet.

"I'll keep it."

Lily smiled.

"Good."

The waitress arrived with the check.

Clare immediately reached for it.

Daniel stopped her.

"I've got it."

"No."

"I invited myself to your table."

"Exactly. Which means you're not paying."

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

"That's an interesting rule."

"It's my rule."

"And what happens if I break it?"

Clare smiled.

"You'll find out."

He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary.

There was something about Clare Bennett.

She wasn't trying to impress him.

She didn't know who he was.

She didn't ask what kind of car he drove, where he lived, or why a man dressed in a tailored coat was eating turkey in a diner on Thanksgiving night.

She simply saw someone sitting alone.

And invited him over.

Daniel paid the bill anyway.

Clare discovered it only when they reached the counter.

"Daniel."

"Good night, Clare."

"You cheated."

"I prefer to call it strategic generosity."

Lily giggled.

Clare shook her head.

Outside, cold Tennessee air rushed around them.

Daniel walked toward a black SUV parked beneath a streetlamp.

Before he opened the door, he heard Lily.

"Daniel!"

He turned.

She ran toward him and held out another piece of construction paper.

"What is this?"

"It's a second card."

"Why?"

"In case you lose the first one."

Daniel stared at her.

Then at Clare.

Clare looked embarrassed.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize."

He took the card.

"Thank you."

As they drove away, Clare watched the SUV disappear down the road.

She had no idea that Daniel Mercer had just left the diner in the same vehicle that had transported him to meetings in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles.

She had no idea that the company she worked for carried his name.

And she certainly had no idea that the following Monday morning, every executive at Mercer Home and Living would receive an email from their owner.