She Was Tired Of Men Only Seeing Money. Poor Dad Saw Her Heart, Not Knowing She Was A Billionaire
Hidden Identities and Honest Conversations
Mason nodded slowly. “I get that. Different scale maybe, but after Emma’s mom left, everyone had opinions on what I should do.”
“Move back home, change careers, date specific people.” He grimaced.
“The last woman my mother tried to set me up with spent the entire date explaining why Emma needed a real mother and how she’d be perfect for the role.”
“Ouch.” “Yeah. Checked my escape routes within the first 10 minutes.”
His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “But sometimes you meet someone and time just disappears.”
Sophie felt warmth spread through her chest. “Yes, sometimes you do.”
They ended up walking through a nearby park, talking until the afternoon light began to fade. When Mason mentioned needing to pick up Emma, Sophie was shocked to see 3 hours had passed.
“Can I see you again?” Mason asked as they reached the park entrance. “I’d like that,” Sophie replied, “very much.”
Over the next few weeks, Sophie found herself creating more and more gaps in her schedule. She met Mason for lunch on her way to meetings and joined him and Emma for ice cream on a Saturday afternoon.
She even spent an evening helping Emma with a shark diorama for school while Mason prepared dinner in his modest Brooklyn apartment. The apartment had surprised her, not because it was small or in an unfashionable neighborhood, but because it felt more like a home than any place she’d ever lived.
Mason’s hand-crafted furniture filled the space, each piece telling a story. Emma’s artwork decorated the refrigerator, and family photos lined the hallway.
The kitchen was tiny but warm, with mason jars full of pasta and flour lining open shelves. “You made all of this?” Sophie asked, running her hand along the dining table’s smooth surface.
“Most of it.” Mason nodded. “The couch was a lucky find, but I refinished it. The bookshelves, coffee table, Emma’s bed—those are all mine.”
“They’re beautiful,” Sophie said sincerely. “You have an incredible talent.”
Something in Mason’s expression shifted. “Thanks. It doesn’t exactly compare to corporate finance, but it pays the bills most months anyway.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sophie said quickly. “I think what you do is amazing. Creating something tangible, something that lasts—that’s special.”
Mason’s eyes softened. “Sorry. Sometimes I get defensive. My ex used to say carpentry was a hobby, not a career.”
“She was wrong,” Sophie said firmly. Later, after Emma had gone to bed, they sat on Mason’s worn but comfortable couch, wine glasses in hand.
“You’re good with her,” Mason said. “Most people I date either ignore her or try too hard.”
Sophie’s heart fluttered at the casual acknowledgement that this was, in fact, dating. “She makes it easy. She’s smart and funny, just like her dad.”
Mason smiled, then hesitated. “Listen, Sophie, I’ve been meaning to ask. We’ve been seeing each other for almost a month now, and I still don’t know your last name.”
Sophie froze. “Does it matter?” “I guess not. But it’s a little weird, right?”
“I mean, you’ve met my daughter, been to my home, but there’s still this distance.” “Sometimes I feel like you’re keeping parts of yourself hidden.”
Sophie sat down her wine glass, her stomach knotting. She had deliberately avoided mentioning her surname and had given vague answers about her work.
She had always met him on her terms. “It’s complicated.”
“Life usually is,” Mason said gently. “But I’m starting to care about you a lot, and I need to know if this is going somewhere or if I’m just a distraction from your real life.”
The hurt in his voice made Sophie’s chest ache. “You’re not a distraction, Mason.”
“Being with you and Emma is the most real thing in my life right now.” “Then why the secrets?”
“Are you married? In witness protection?” His attempt at humor fell flat.
Sophie took a deep breath. “My last name is Kincaid.”
Mason blinked. “Okay, and?” “Kincaid, as in Kincaid International Shipping and Trade.”
Mason’s brow furrowed. “That sounds vaguely familiar, but it’s a Fortune 500 company.”
“My family owns it. I’m… well, I’m wealthy. Very wealthy.”
Understanding dawned slowly on Mason’s face. “Oh. That’s it?”
“Just ‘oh’? What do you want me to say?” “Congratulations?”
Sophie twisted her hands in her lap. “Most men have a stronger reaction when they find out.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” he asked. “You thought I would ask for money or try to take advantage somehow?”
“It’s happened before,” Sophie admitted, “many times.” Mason was quiet for a long moment.
“That explains a lot. The vague answers about work, the driver I’ve seen waiting for you, the way you never let me pay for anything.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “But Sophie, did you really think I was like that?”
“No,” she said softly. “That’s why I kept seeing you. You were different. You saw me, not my bank account.”
“Because I didn’t know about your bank account,” Mason pointed out. “How is that fair?”
“You got to decide what parts of me were acceptable while hiding major parts of yourself.” “I wasn’t hiding who I am,” Sophie protested. “Just what I have.”
“But that’s part of who you are, whether you like it or not.” Mason stood, pacing the small living room.
“I’ve been totally open with you about Emma, about my ex, about my financial struggles.” “Do you know how humiliating it was to tell you I couldn’t afford to take Emma on a real vacation last summer?”
“And all that time, you were what, slumming it with the poor carpenter?” “That’s not fair!”
Sophie’s voice cracked. “It was never like that.”
“Then what was it like?” he asked. “Because from where I’m standing, you weren’t honest with me from day one.”
Sophie stood, tears threatening. “I was protecting myself.”
“Every man I’ve ever dated has been more interested in my family’s money than in me.” “You were the first person in years who seemed to like me for who I am, not what I’m worth.”
Mason’s expression softened slightly. “I understand being cautious, Sophie, but relationships need trust and trust needs honesty.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed heavily. “It’s late. Maybe we both need some time to think.”
Sophie nodded, gathering her coat. At the door, she turned back.
“For what it’s worth, the last few weeks have been the happiest I’ve had in a very long time.” Mason’s smile was tinged with sadness. “Yeah, for me too.”
