“How’s everything on that front going so far?” I nod to where Renée sits, her long blonde hair pulled into a chic topknot, scowling at her monitor. She’s wearing a tomato-red dress that, oddly enough, reminds me of the Wawa staff T-shirts, only the color is flattering on her.

Mark follows my gaze. “Good so far, but David’s not in yet. Carla from HR asked me if I could show Renée the ropes this morning. You know—her computer, and security pass, and all that. I figure it’ll take an hour at most. You okay with that? After I get this contact for you, of course.”

“Yes, because the sooner she’s up to speed, the sooner David will stop pestering us.” I drop my bag and sink into my chair with a heavy sigh as I take in the pile of work already forming for me. More signatures, more approvals, more, more, more.

And then I notice the packet of sour apple Fun Dip in my silver spoon figurine, and I start to laugh. We never did get a chance to eat those last night.

“Yeah, I noticed that on your desk this morning. Do you know who left it for you?”

“I do, actually.”

Mark lingers another moment, eyeing me carefully. “You seem awfully chipper this morning.”

“Do I?” I can’t keep the private smile from curling my lips. Maybe because I haven’t felt this alive and free since I was sixteen years old.

His gaze flickers to the candy pack again. “So, I guess that person works at Calloway.”

He’s fishing for details.

“Don’t you have a number to find me?” I remind him, though I wink to let him know I’m not bothered by his nosiness.

“Right.” He’s out the door in a flash.

I type out a text to Kyle’s number:

Two razz apple Fun Dips says you won’t let me take you out to dinner tonight.

The answer comes almost immediately:

Four says you won’t ask me to go home with you after.

I quickly respond:

Meet me at eight at my place. And bring your work clothes with you for the morning.

Two knocks rattle the glass door. I look up in time to see my dad poke his head in.

“David has a new assistant?”

“Yes, he hired her late last week. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“He called, but I was preoccupied. So what’d you think of the proposal?”

I sigh heavily. “Good morning to you, too, Dad,” I offer, not bothering to hide my annoyance. It’s barely eight a.m.

He makes a point of slowly saying, “Good morning, Piper. What did you think of the proposal?”

“I’m still reviewing it.”

“But so far . . .”

“I’m still reviewing.” And still annoyed—at Dad for what he did thirteen years ago, but more at the fact that I’m twenty-nine years old and here I am, hiding my love interest from my parents. “I only just got it late on Saturday, remember? And I was busy yesterday. I had lunch with Mom.”

Dad makes a sound, the same sound he always makes when Mom is mentioned—a mixture of disapproval and scorn.

“She’s dating someone,” I offer, unprompted. “She sounds happy.”

“Well . . .” He searches my area rug for something to say. “She’s not getting any younger. Maybe this one will stick. I’m sitting down with Tripp this morning at eleven to discuss the Marquee. You should be there if you can make it work in your calendar.”

“I can’t,” I begin to say, but he’s out the door and marching to his office.

I groan. My women’s network meeting is at eleven and, no, I can’t just bump everyone. But I also need to be in this meeting with Tripp and my father. My father may have acknowledged his own part in sabotaging my importance in the company, but that doesn’t mean he won’t sign off on KDZ’s proposal without me.

“Mark!” I holler, rubbing the back of my neck as tension mounts.

Wishing I were back in Kyle’s bed, with his arms wrapped around me and the door to the outside world firmly shut.

“Knock, knock,” I announce, strolling into Dad’s palatial office at exactly eleven A.M., to see the back of his throne-like leather chair. He’s looking out over the view of Lennox’s downtown core, his phone pressed to his ear.

“I’ve got a meeting now. I’ll call you later?” he murmurs, and I know without a doubt that it’s not a business call. Especially when he releases a low, playful chuckle.

“How old is this one?” I ask, after he ends the call.

He spins around to face me. “I thought we were staying out of each other’s relationships.”

I settle into the chair directly across from him. “Is she at least older than me?” I dread the day I find out otherwise. The day he becomes that stereotype.

“Have I dated anyone younger than you yet?”

“No. Key word being yet.”

He regards me evenly. “If I told you she’s thirty-five and she makes me happy, would you approve?”

“So she’s the same age as your son. I wonder if they went to school together. Maybe they dated.”

“And this is why I don’t tell you about the women I see,” he mutters, annoyed.

“Hey. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” That’s a self-serving declaration if I’ve ever heard one, but I’ll be able to remind him of it in the future, when he finds out about Kyle. It’s only a matter of time.

I note with surprise the cell phone spoon rest sitting on Dad’s desk, the twin to mine. The one that Dad sneered at weeks ago and wanted to throw out. I’m about to ask him about it when Tripp strolls in.

“Kieran! Good to see you again! Piper . . . don’t you look nice.” He barely glances at me.

I struggle not to roll my eyes and give my father the flattest “see?” look I can muster.

“Sounds like you’ve been putting in some long hours lately,” my dad offers as Tripp takes the vacant chair beside me.

“That’s because you’ve raised a slave driver.” Tripp chuckles, and it’s not the fake laugh that’s always directed at me. It’s the laugh of a man who is comfortable and pleased. Perhaps because he’s been granted an audience with the king again after what I’m guessing he deemed a demotion, having to report into me. Perhaps because he thinks this arrangement with KDZ is a lock.

“That’s what I like to hear.” My dad winks at me.

I stifle another urge to roll my eyes. Please tell me Dad’s swift enough to see that Tripp is using his weakness—me—to score points.

“So you’ve had a chance to go through the contract? It’s solid, right? I told you they were coming in strong. They really want this. More than Jameson, based on what I’ve seen.” Tripp speaks directly to my father, as if I’m not even in the room.

“And have you received the updated proposal from Jameson already? Did you forget to send that one to me, too?” I ask lightly, sliding my jab in.

Tripp offers me a forced smile. “No, I haven’t.”

“Then you’ll be getting it soon. Gary said it would be in today.”

“They’ve had plenty of time to deliver. More than KDZ.”