Moving to New York City was the best decision of your entire life.

You somehow managed to get a scholarship to NYU, pouring your heart and soul into your college admission essay. You couldn’t afford to live on campus, however, managing to find a small apartment on the Lower East Side.

You had a part-time job at a local cafe, even though you had financial aid. You didn’t want to rely on it.

After working there for a few months, you had grown quite close with a certain regular; Nate. His order was simple, a vanilla flat white extra hot. He was cute, and he tipped well.

So when he asked you out, you said yes.

You knew he had some kind of money, but you didn’t know exactly how wealthy he was. Ancient money. Prehistoric money. His father was wealthy enough, but everything mainly came from his mother Anne van der Bilt.

You lock up your apartment and head down to the lobby to see Nate waiting for you, a bouquet of tulips in his hands. He smiled at you, pulling you into a hug with his hand on your lower back before leading you outside.

You’re expecting a car. Maybe a taxi. Maybe even a tandem bike.

Definitely not a limousine.