Dad sighs heavily. “You’re right.”

“I . . .” I frown, replaying those words to make sure I understood them. “I’m sorry . . . what?”

“You’re right. I just thought . . .” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I thought. I guess I keep making excuses for Tripp. For years, he reported directly in to me, so I assumed it was just habit. But, even if it is, it isn’t right.” His jaw tenses. “I will make sure to remind him of the new chain of command when I see him next.”

I study him intently, and with confusion.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he finally asks, irritation in his voice.

“No reason. I’ve just always wondered, when aliens abduct a human, do they undress them before infecting the host body or were you still wearing your suit?”

Dad shakes his head but chuckles. Sliding his arm around my waist, he pulls me into him in a quick fatherly embrace that he hasn’t given me since the night he announced my promotion and future succession.

For a moment, I forget that I’m furious with him.

For a moment, I forget how he broke my sixteen-year-old heart. If I try hard enough, I could probably convince myself that he did it with the best of intentions.

But the road to hell is paved with good intentions, my gramps always said. He had that quote printed and framed on the wall in the living room, above the piano. Mom said he hung it the day my parents announced they were getting married. Gran insisted that was mere coincidence, but the thing about Gramps was, he never cared for wealth and nothing was ever mere coincidence.

As soon as Dad releases me from his grip, I slip my hand into my clutch to check my phone. Eight fifty. Kyle is working for another two hours.

“What? Do you have other plans for tonight?”

“We’ve paid our five grand a plate and mingled long enough for people to know we were here.”

“Right. I suppose you’re off the— Oh, before you go,” he calls out to a man passing by. “Lloyd?”

The man stops and turns, his gray eyes shifting from my father to me—to linger one, two, three beats before shifting back. “Kieran, it’s good to see you again.” I’d put him in his late thirties, with sandy-brown hair that’s dusted with gray around the temples. He’s attractive in a classic way, with a strong nose and a square jaw.

My dad gestures to me, as if presenting a prize display. “Have you met my daughter, Piper?”

I stifle my groan as I realize his intentions.

Lloyd’s eyes are back on me. “I haven’t, but I’ve heard wonderful things. Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He smiles and holds out his hand.

I plaster a polite smile on my face and accept it.

“Lloyd is a named partner at Sternum and Oakley.”

“Really . . .” I feign interest, though it is interesting that my father would be trying to set me up with our law firm’s main competitor. “So you are . . .”

“The breastbone.” Lloyd flashes a bright, easy smile and then winks. “You wouldn’t believe the number of jokes I’ve endured.”

“I think I can imagine.” He’s charming, I’ll admit. And if I weren’t already spoken for, I would probably be wondering how I could get his number.

Already spoken for.

My God.

But I have already decided.

I want Kyle back.

“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but you caught me on my way out. I have another function that I have to make a speech at in exactly”—he checks his flashy Rolex—“ten minutes.”

I hold my hands up in the air. “Please don’t let us keep you, then.”

“A pleasure to meet you, though, Piper. I hope our paths cross again. And soon. Kieran.” He nods at my father and then continues on.

“He separated from his wife about a year ago, but I hear he’s dating again.”

“You should ask him out, then. You two would make a cute couple, and he looks about the age you prefer.”

Dad gives me a flat look.

“What’s wrong? Finally giving up on my reconciliation with David?”

“Is it likely?”

“Yes, right after I set myself on fire.” I tip back my glass and finish off the champagne.

He sighs. “I do want to see you happy.”

“As long as it’s with a man like David or this Lloyd Sternum.”

“Well, you’d keep your last name, obviously. The man is smart, successful, and driven. He’s the kind of man you’ll need in the years ahead—”

“I don’t need a man.”

He rolls his eyes. “What I mean is, when you do decide to settle down with someone, it will need to be with someone self-assured enough to handle being married to a woman as powerful as you will be.”

“And what would guarantee that, Dad? A big bank account? A private jet in the family?” My anger with him flares. “God forbid I date a blue-collar worker who just loves me for me.”

My dad snorts. “Isn’t that too idealistic, even for you?”

“Just because it didn’t work out for you and Mom doesn’t mean everyone else is doomed.”

An unreadable look flashes through my father’s eyes. “Your mother never understood the kind of pressure that I faced. She wanted romance and vacations and all these things that I didn’t have time to give her. She didn’t understand because she didn’t grow up in this world.”

“But that architect from LA understood, did she?”

He scowls. “That’s personal and not a topic I ever want to revisit.”

“Let’s make a deal, then. I’ll stay out of your personal life if you stay out of mine.”

He gives me a bewildered look. “It was a harmless introduction, Piper! I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“Because I don’t want you interfering with my relationships, even if you don’t approve. So don’t ever do it.” Ever again. My voice is calm and low but no less severe. With that I stroll out of the art gallery, my head held high, a small sense of victory humming through my bones. I may not have confronted my father about his past betrayal—yet—but I’ve made my position on any future ones as they relate to me—and to Kyle—clear.

And now it’s a matter of finding out if there even is a future.

“Thank you. You can leave,” I tell the driver, my gaze on the darkened office windows in the Calloway building. Oddly enough, I’ve always found the emptiness on the weekends comforting, as if all the weekday guests have left and I finally have the house to myself.

My chest is tight with anticipation as I climb the steps. My stomach stirs with hope as I swipe my card to gain access through the exterior doors again.

My nerves electrify as I try not to appear too eager strolling toward the security desk. I don’t know what to say, but I hope I don’t say the wrong thing.

Kyle flashes me a smile that makes my feet falter. It’s a smile I’ve seen many times before, but not in years. “Come back for those other shoes?”

“A pen, actually,” I say with mock seriousness. It’s the first—lame—thing I could think of.