Becca’s mouth parted slightly. "Wow, Camelia," she muttered in awe, nudging my elbow. "Who is he?"

"I don't know," I answered softly, staring at the man in curiosity.

The man stopped a couple of feet away from us and bowed his head slightly. "Good evening, Miss Stewart. Mr. Stone asked me to take you home since he had an urgent matter to handle and couldn't drive you himself."

I blinked, my throat tightening. "Oh. Thank you, but—"

"Actually," Becca cut in before I could finish my sentence. She stepped right up beside me, giving the driver a bright smile. "We're not going home just yet. We're heading out for dinner...