Being Alone

Jonathan Meyer stepped out of his car, a paper bag in one hand, his movements crisp, deliberate. The second his feet hit the ground, his gaze snapped to Liam and then to JD.

Liam nodded first. "Looking good, Mr. Meyer."

Jonathan hesitated before offering a polite smile. It was small. Measured.

JD felt something in his chest tighten. This was a man who carried himself differently.

Jonathan wasn't wearing a suit, but he didn't need one. The air of wealth and refinement clung to him—the sharpness of his freshly dyed hair, the precision of his clean shave, the quiet dominance of his cologne that drifted in the morning breeze.

A man used to command.

Jonathan turned back to Liam, masking his surprise. "Good day to you, Mr. Sullivan."

Then, his eyes landed on JD.

JD had seen enough businessmen to know when someone was assessing him. Calculating. But Jonathan's expression gave away nothing.