At noon, I pulled on the outfit I chose: a pair of black leggings and a sweater from Express. There was no way I was going out in a dress again in the middle of November. Thanksgiving was in a week, Natalie would have the week off, and she’d probably double the effort to make me to go with her this year. I kept my appearance simple with a bit of mascara and lip gloss.

The black Mercedes rolled up against the curb at two o’clock sharp. The magical carriage has arrived to take Cinderella to the ball. Shrugging on my wool coat, I opened the door and entered the stinging air. The same driver from the night prior stepped out and opened the passenger door for me

“Thanks.” I beamed at him as I ducked inside the heated car. I would never get used to this.

He tipped his black driver cap. “Not at all,” he said.

The familiar feeling of being caught in a wonderful, absurd dream was overwhelming, and I giggled as he closed the door. A town car a billionaire hired whisked me away from my crappy apartment and its crumbling streets. Don’t get carried away, I reminded myself. This could all end today, leaving me with nothing but memories.

The driver glanced at me in the rear view mirror, and I wondered what kind of life he had.

“I never caught your name, sir.”

“It’s Jim.”

“I’m Jessica. Nice to meet you.”

My hands fidgeted in my lap. He was probably wondering why the hell Luke asked him to pick up a girl from a Section 8 apartment complex.

I made a few comments about the weather just to make the drive a little less awkward. The discussion changed to BART strikes and found camaraderie in the topic. Then I ran out of things to talk about.

“Whoa.”

A magnificent building loomed over us as Jim turned into the road leading to Opus One Winery. It sat on a deep green lawn elevated on all sides like a pyramid. Fields of grape vines surrounded the whole area. The cream-colored limestone made it shine like a small sun in the late afternoon.

The driver stopped the car in the winery’s parking space and opened my door. “Mr. Pardini will be waiting for you inside.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

What a beautiful place. Out of all the Californian wines, Opus One was the most hyped. If I could rate a wine based on how beautiful the winery was, Opus One would score a perfect ten. My heels echoed within the high-ceilinged walls after I walked through the massive brown doors and stepped into the winery. Like the interior of Mediterranean villa, the soft walls glowed with golden light and colorful flowers spilled from vases. The rich architectural details on the archways mesmerized me.

“Can I help you?”

I turned to a woman dressed in a white blouse and black slacks.

“Yes, I’m supposed to meet Mr. Pardini here.”

“Oh, you must be Jessica. Please follow me.”

I followed her around the sweeping circular hall. The winery was like a giant disc, and she walked along a stretch of private room hidden behind glass doors. Above us was a giant dome of glass where the sun filtered through the second floor’s terrace

My heart gave a sudden squeeze as I recognized Luke seated on a white leather sofa. Dressed in pristine khakis and a sky-blue sweater, he stared thoughtfully at a pile of paper alongside a glass of wine on the coffee table. Definitely more casual and laid back than the night at the restaurant. He didn’t notice us when we approached, and only looked up when the woman rapped on the glass.

The same polite look flicked on his face as he waved us inside. Was it me, or did his smile look strained?

Nervous energy and laughter bubbled from my throat as Luke stood up to receive me. I stopped thinking completely when his arm wrapped around my shoulders and his fingers lightly stroked my skin as if he’d done it a thousand times before. The shock ran like a hot drop down my throat.

When he spoke, I felt the vibrations through my body. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

The woman smiled and looked a bit flustered as she left the room. Well, good. Now I know that I’m not the only one who gets so affected.

Then his body left me so abruptly that I felt like icy water had been thrown on my face.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure,” I said. I took the delicate stem he offered me, disguising my confusion by hiding my face behind the glass. The wine’s acidity balanced perfectly with the tangy fruit taste. I sat across from him on the couch while my heart hammered in anticipation. Well, how did it go?

“Thank you for coming here, Jessica. The background check I ran on you was clear, but I do my own extensive research with my PI. I wanted to talk to you about what he found.”

He has a private investigator? God, this guy’s paranoid. The wine felt high in my throat no matter how much I sipped. I didn’t like the detached tone of his voice.

He folded his long fingers into steeples and looked at me. “Do you mind if I ask questions about your background?”

My gaze dropped and I shrugged. “I guess not.” Inwardly, I felt like my heart would jump out of my chest.

“I know that you were a foster child and that you were transferred from a few homes. The reports mentioned that you had behavioral problems.”

He held his hands up at the look of my stunned face. “Listen, I know that this is very awkward. I just need to make sure that you’re well-adjusted.”

I set the dangerously wavering wine glass on the coffee table. No one ever invaded my privacy like this, and I didn’t know how to react. Luke took a flying leap over my comfort zone. I looked at his handsome face and simultaneously thought of a viper. Am I well adjusted? Nope.

“Well, I didn’t have the most stable home life, so I acted out a lot.” I knew no one would ever adopt me, and my foster parents would eventually get sick of me, so I threw fits and smashed things to get me transferred as soon as possible. Knowing I would get the same reaction every time, it was oddly comforting to repeat those behaviors.

He waited for me to elaborate, but there was no way in hell I was going to talk about my fucked up childhood.

“Okay, um…I actually contacted one of the foster parents you were with the longest earlier today. The Kramers. They mentioned that you were particularly—Jessica?”

Luke’s polite face dissolved into horror as my face crumpled against my will. Bill and Shelly Kramer. Their fat faces swam in my mind. The feeling of their cruel hands on my flesh, twisting, hitting, and striking me. The belt whistled through the air. The terrifying sound of his leather belt slipping through the loops of his jeans. Their oldest son, Vincent, with his sweet, angelic face. They believed every word out of his psychotic mouth, even though he—he raped me.