“That he wants back in your life. Obviously. And damn, wouldn’t that be something. Daddy’s princess with the building security guard? One with a bunch of convicts for a family?” He chuckles. “I might be back in Kieran Calloway’s good books once he finds out.”

“So glad you’re entertained,” I mutter. “But he doesn’t want to reconnect. He’s been avoiding me for the most part. Plus he’s living with someone.”

His lips purse with thought. “So what are you gonna do, then?”

“I don’t know! But he keeps getting into my head, messing up my day. I can’t concentrate.” Heat climbs up my neck. “It’s embarrassing! I’m all wrapped up in this. In him. It’s like I’m sixteen all over again.” Except I’m not. I’m twenty-nine years old and getting sucked into nostalgia when I should be focusing on my career, on these projects worth billions of dollars!

“So then there’s only one thing to do—you confront him.” Rhett shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” He squeezes the bridge of his nose like he’s in pain. “Didn’t you once walk out of a meeting owning a building that the guy didn’t even want to sell?”

I roll my eyes. “That idiot couldn’t negotiate worth a damn.” A perfect example of where a guy had no business inheriting Daddy’s empire and was too stupid and arrogant to realize it.

“And didn’t you sit in a lecture hall and lob argument after argument for an hour straight until your professor finally yielded to you?”

“He was a misogynistic ass! I mean, who debates a room full of women about women’s reproductive rights? And how do you even know about that?”

“Mom. She was so proud of you, she forgot about the time difference and woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me about it. My point is, you’re Piper Fucking Calloway! So get this security guard in a room and get your answers. Because there is a reason for him wanting to work in your building, and it has to do with you. And hey,” he raises his hands in a sign of surrender, “say what you want about making unfair assumptions, but given this guy’s family and who you are, there’s fair reason to be worried.”

“Kyle’s not there to hurt me.”

Rhett gives me a flat look.

“I guess I could ask him to meet—”

“Ask? No, you tell him to meet you. Because you are Piper Fucking Calloway.” He emphasizes each word with a jab at the table’s surface, earning my laugh.

“Fine, I will.”

“Good. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will. But. . . .” I lift a finger in warning.

“I know, I know.” He rolls his eyes and mock-zips his lips closed. “Have you talked to Mom lately?”

“A week ago. She’s redecorating at Martha’s Vineyard.” Again.

“ ‘I’m glad to see she’s still enjoying the fruits of my labor,’ ” Rhett murmurs, imitating our father’s bitter, deep tone.

“Right?” I shake my head. “I can’t even remember them ever liking each other anymore.”

Mom ended up doing a lot of “thinking” over that summer while I was at Wawa, with the help of a twenty-nine-year-old tennis instructor. The affair ended whatever meager efforts my father might have been making toward reconciliation and instead earned his wrath. They’ve been officially divorced for twelve years now. As much as I dreaded the inevitability at the onset, as much as I despised the both of them for their roles in tearing apart our family, by the time the ink was drying on the legal paperwork of the ugly, high-profile divorce, what I felt more than anything was relief that they’d finally go their separate ways, until the wounds healed and civility might arise. Maybe even friendship.

I’ve long since let go of that delusion.

The last time my parents were in the same room was five years ago, at Rhett’s wedding at Naka Island in Thailand. It took months of me needling to convince my father to make the trip, a seeming victory that turned into a living nightmare when he arrived at the hotel with a stunning twenty-eight-year-old model who he’d met at a fund-raiser just weeks before. Clearly a woman who served only one purpose there. Well, two, if my father’s intent was to burrow deep under my mother’s fifty-two-year-old skin. And, boy, did he ever, if her toast, delivered after too many glasses of Cristal and with at least a dozen not-so-subtle jabs thrown his way, was any indication. Poor Lawan got a good glimpse of the family she’d married into and an even better understanding of why my brother chose to stay on the other side of the world for as long as he had.

The server comes to clear our plates and deliver the tab, which Rhett grabs before I have a chance to even reach for it. “I’m so glad we did this, Pipes.”

“So am I. You know, you’re the only one I can talk to frankly, about anything,” I murmur. “You never judge.”

“I’m a huge stoner, remember? Stoners don’t judge.” He winks. “What are you going to do about this security guard?”

I sigh heavily. “I don’t know, but I have to do something and soon. Like, tomorrow.” I can’t continue on like this, my mind muddled with the past. Otherwise I’m going to start deserving whatever belittling nicknames Tripp wants to label me with. “Any advice?”

He grins. “You’re Piper Fucking Calloway.”

Arriving to work at seven A.M. has its advantages.

Namely a quiet lobby, ripe for confrontation.

“I’m Piper Calloway . . . I’m Piper Calloway . . .” I mutter under my breath as I march toward the security desk, my heels clicking with purpose, my chin held high as I stare straight ahead.

“Morning, Miss Calloway,” Gus croons. “How’s my boy Rhett doing?”

I clear the sudden nervousness from my throat. “He’s good. He asked that I pass along his greetings.”

Gus’s faces splits with a wide grin. “I hope he makes it in here again one day. It’s been a long time. He was still in college, the last time I saw him.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.” I shift my focus to Kyle, who’s leaning back in his chair, watching the exchange through curious eyes. “Good morning, Kyle.”