Adrian turned around. The man standing behind him was dressed in a tailored suit and staring at him as though he’d just seen a ghost.
"Is that really you?" Jacob asked. "Adrian?"
"Jacob."
A grin spread across Adrian’s face before he could stop it. "It’s been years."
They shook hands, but the handshake lasted about two seconds before Jacob pulled him into a quick, back-slapping hug, the kind shared by two men who had once spent more time in the same dorm room than anywhere else.
When they stepped apart, Jacob looked Adrian up and down.
"Three, four years?"
"Four."
"You’ve changed." Jacob tilted his head, studying him. "You look thinner. And tired. And..."
His eyes settled on Adrian’s faded jacket. "Older."
Back in university, the two had been practically inseparable. Adrian had spent most of his free time around card tables, while Jacob had quietly covered for him. He marked Adrian present when he skipped class, lent him notes, and occasionally distracted professors who were beginning to suspect that their brilliant student had a rather unusual relationship with attendance.
Whenever Adrian won big, he would drag Jacob to the mall and insist on buying him an entirely new wardrobe. Neither of them had ever thought much about it. That was simply what best friends did.
"I heard you went to Ventura to make it big," Jacob said. "So what are you doing back in Halcyon City?"
"It’s a long story."
"Don’t tell me the great Future Seer finally fell."
The old nickname made Adrian’s mouth twitch.
Back then, it had been the truth.
By his second year in college, half the campus knew him as Future Seer. Some professors had heard the nickname before they even learned his surname.
"I always told you gambling would catch up with you," Jacob continued, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You should’ve gotten a real job. Worked your way up. Ten years from now, you could’ve been running a company."
"Jacob, the thing is..."
"So what do you do now?" Jacob asked, suddenly brightening. "Don’t tell me you finally listened to me. You’re some millionaire’s driver, aren’t you? You’re here to pick up his car."
Adrian opened his mouth.
"Because I can see it," Jacob continued enthusiastically. "Loyal employee, honest work, respectable salary..."
Adrian closed his mouth again.
’Is this man ever going to let me finish a sentence?’
He wasn’t even annoyed. Strangely, it was comforting.
Some things really hadn’t changed.
Jacob’s phone suddenly rang.
"Sorry, I’ve got to take this."
He stepped aside, and Adrian could faintly hear him speaking.
"Yes, we’re still looking for him. No, he hasn’t shown up yet. A Mr. Vale."
At the same time, two women walked past the glass entrance. They slowed down when they noticed Adrian, exchanging a glance before one leaned toward the other.
"He’s cute," she whispered, "but the clothes aren’t helping."
The other giggled.
"He looks like somebody’s chauffeur."
Adrian caught the exchange and glanced at his reflection in the showroom glass.
The jacket was gray at the elbows. His jeans were worn thin in places, and one of his sneakers was beginning to separate at the toe. He really did look like a man who took the bus.
It should have embarrassed him. Instead, he found himself smiling. A few weeks ago, he would’ve been mortified, now it was almost funny.
Jacob returned a moment later and slipped his phone back into his pocket.
"Sorry about that. There’s a customer who was supposed to pick up a Ferrari SF90 Stradale today. A Mr. Vale. My shift ended hours ago, but I’m covering for Gordon until he gets here. Apparently, traffic is holding him up."
"You work here?"
"Six months."
Jacob folded his arms.
"What’s so funny?"
"You never learned my last name."
Jacob frowned. "What?"
"Not once. Four years of college, and you never learned my last name."
"I know your last name."
"No, you don’t."
"Of course I do."
"Everyone called me Future Seer. Even you."
Adrian pointed a thumb at himself.
"That customer you’re waiting for? Mr. Vale?"
He grinned.
"You’re looking at him."
Jacob stared at him.
His eyes moved to the faded jacket, then the jeans, then the scuffed sneaker. Finally, he looked back at Adrian’s face.
"You’re joking."
"Do I look like I’m joking?"
"No." Jacob slowly shook his head. "No way. You look like you took the bus here."
"I took a taxi."
That somehow made it worse.
Jacob doubled over laughing.
He laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes while two salespeople glanced over, saw what was happening, and immediately decided they had somewhere else to be.
"Prove it," Jacob managed between laughs. "This has to be some kind of prank."
Adrian sighed and reached into his wallet. He pulled out his driver’s license and handed it over.
Jacob took it with a grin still plastered across his face.
Then he read the name. The smile slowly disappeared. His eyes moved from the license to Adrian, then back to the license.
"Bro..." The amusement was gone from his voice. "It really is you."
Adrian gave him a small smile.
Jacob stared at him for another moment. "How?"
’Tell him a voice in my head has been paying me for gambling.’
Adrian almost laughed at the thought.
’That’s the fastest way to get myself committed.’
"Venturas," he said instead. "There was one huge game. I got lucky."
It wasn’t exactly a complete lie.
Without gambling, there would’ve been no system. Without the system, there would’ve been no Ferrari, no five million dollars, and no chance to start over.
Jacob studied him for several seconds before handing back the license.
"I still think you’re messing with me."
Adrian slipped the license into his wallet. "Can I pick up the car first? I’ve got somewhere to be tonight."
Jacob’s eyebrows shot up.
"Yeah. Sure. Follow me."
He led Adrian through the showroom and toward the private garage at the back.
The automatic doors slid open, revealing rows of gleaming cars beneath bright overhead lights. At the center of the room sat a silver Ferrari SF90 Stradale, its sculpted body reflecting the lights across the polished floor.
Adrian slowed as he approached.
He walked around the car, taking in every line and curve. When his fingers brushed the door, the reality of it hit him all over again.
In Venturas, he’d spent years dreaming about owning a car like this. Now the keys were waiting for him.
"The paperwork’s already done," Jacob said, coming up beside him. "Wire transfer, paid in full last night. Came from some business account I’ve never seen before."
He shook his head.
"That never happens. I still can’t figure out how it cleared so fast." Jacob looked at him and shrugged. "Anyway, it’s yours."
Adrian stared at the Ferrari for another moment.
"It’s beautiful."
"So, who’s the lucky lady?"
Adrian glanced at him.
"What?"
"You’re clearly going out on a date tonight."
Jacob gestured toward Adrian’s jacket.
"Nobody dresses like this to pick up an SF90. You need clothes, and you need a date. In that order."
"It’s not a date, exactly."
Adrian hesitated.
"She’s my neighbor. She brought me meatloaf last night. I’m taking her to dinner to thank her."
"Meatloaf," Jacob repeated slowly.
"Yeah."
"Last night. And now dinner."
His eyes narrowed.
"Adrian."
"It’s not what you’re thinking."
Jacob grinned.
"No need to be nervous. Big Jacob will teach you the do’s and don’ts of a first date."
Adrian shook his head, laughing.
Before he could answer, one of the showroom employees handed him the keys.
They landed in his palm with a soft, heavy clink.
Jacob glanced at the clock, then back at Adrian. A mischievous smile spread across his face as he rubbed his hands together.
"Right. I know what we’re doing."
Adrian already knew he wasn’t going to like whatever came next. "You’re going shopping," Jacob said, "and you’re taking me for a drive first."
"What about work?"
"Gordon’s here." Jacob pointed through the glass toward one of the salesmen approaching the showroom floor.
"Besides, you owe me. I paid for half your wardrobe in college."
"You did not."
"Emotionally." Jacob grinned.
"Come on, Mr. Vale."
Adrian laughed as he walked toward the Ferrari. He pressed the key fob, and the headlights flashed in response.
He opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat.
The engine came alive with a deep, refined growl that seemed almost too smooth for something this powerful.
Adrian rested his hands on the steering wheel and shook his head.