My sister’s still angry eyes narrowed on me.

“Tommy?”

I tipped my head to the side. “He does need more responsibility, doesn’t he? Seeing as he has a growing family he needs to take care of. It’s time he stopped stagnating and moved up the ranks.”

Anger and sisterly tenderness warred in her features as she started, “Liv—”

I turned my attention to my menu. “Let’s order. I have a good deal to do and I have plans this evening.”

She said nothing. The waitress came back with my drinks. We ordered.

Then she said something.

“It’s been years. And now you’re over Tommy that easily?” she asked, watching me closely.

“I’ll never be over that,” I answered then went on foolishly, bringing up a topic I knew all too well I shouldn’t bring up, “A heinous lesson that was learned when there was no need to teach it. But still, although never to be over the lesson that was Tommy, I’m over Tommy.”

“You guys stole two million dollars,” she said carefully.

Yes. I was foolish to bring it up.

I did not want to go over old ground.

But I was so used to doing it when the frequent occasion occurred that my sister tried to explain gently what had been demonstrated not-so-gently, out of habit, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “How can one steal one’s own money?”

“Nothing is anyone’s, babe, you know that. If it’s Shade, it’s all the Shades’.”

I nodded. “Oh yes, I do remember that being mentioned while boiling oil was being poured on my back.”

She flinched.

I kept talking.

“Okay, it has to be said that we’re at a stalemate about this that we should call for eternity. I’m over Tommy. I’m really over discussing this. It’s clear you agree with Dad that I did wrong and deserved to be punished.”

She tried to interrupt. “Liv—”

But I persevered.

“I’ve made it clear that I felt as a human being I should be free to work and earn my own money and have the right to pursue happiness with whoever I choose without threat of imprisonment and torture. I’m afraid I have rather strong feelings about that ideology, no matter how brutally I was proven wrong. Thus, we won’t come to an agreement or even a compromise. So allow me to live my repression with some dignity.”

She leaned toward the table and lowered her voice as she said, “Like I’ve said a million times before, we keep discussing this because you need to be careful about shit like that, sis. I’m not happy David stole from us but I’m glad you found it. Dad’ll be seriously pissed about David but he’ll be pleased you seem more on board, sorting that out, calling the order to get Gill and Tommy involved, taking care of family. But, you keep going the way you’re going, saying the shit you say, behaving the way you do, not letting that shit go…” She let that hang and finished, “You have to know, Dad doesn’t trust your loyalty.”

I let my eyes widen in faux shock.

“Really?” I asked sarcastically. “You can’t be serious, Georgie. Gee…that must be why he still watches my house.”

“You learned the loyalty lesson once,” she hissed, but she said it like she wished she didn’t have to. “The way you carry on, Liv, he’s not sure it sunk in.”

“I did learn a lesson,” I agreed. “However, I will note that the lesson taught did not buy loyalty. It bought hatred. And in order to end this discussion once and for all, I’ll stop pussyfooting around and say it out loud. I loathe that man. Since he never liked me much, I returned the favor. But after that, I hated him. The only reason I do what I do is not loyalty to him. It’s because it’s the only livelihood I have. Then there’s the small fact I have absolutely no other choice. And last, the only good part about it all, I do it because I love you.”

She sat back at my last, her face growing soft.

I watched her reaction wishing I didn’t love her. It might make some things much easier.

But I did because she was my sister. I did because she’d always, as best she could, took my back.

And her showing so readily how much it meant to her was another one of the reasons why.

“Needless to say,” I sallied forth, “we need the money back that David stole so if you’d like to take a break from our pleasant conversation at this juncture to give that order to Gill, I’ll wait. Or, if you’d prefer I do it, I’ll take that opportunity now.”

“I’ll do it,” she muttered, reaching for her purse.

I sipped Prosecco while she did, trying not to think how different this was—having this conversation again with my sister, talking about a business I did not want to be in, harking back again to all that happened which should be history, but I had to admit (regrettably due partially to me) it had not yet been laid to rest—doing all that with something to look forward to in my imminent future.

This being dinner at Nick’s that night, something I’d agreed to last night under some duress while fucking in his bed.

Not painful duress.

A different kind.

But (I told myself) the fact remained that I had survived a dinner at his place without anything catastrophic happening. And the same with fucking there every night since, except when we were at the club. Not to mention an ugly conversation with him that still made my heart race because it seemed it was spurred by jealousy he shouldn’t feel and a demand from him of exclusivity I should not have given in to.