Also, I never got an answer to my question.

Why have you come back into my life now, Kyle?

“You’re not as smart as I’ve given you credit for.” Rhett sucks the edamame beans out of the shell before tossing it into the discard bowl.

“How so?” I swat his hand away as he reaches for another helping. He showed up to this trendy tapas-style vegetarian restaurant—that he chose—twenty minutes late, and now he’s eating double his fair share.

He leans back in his chair with a grin, brushing aside his blond hair. It’s perpetually six months behind for a haircut—intentionally. The guy is the epitome of ease and in stark contrast to me, right down to his worn metal concert T-shirt and frayed jeans, his Birkenstocks, and the fair trade satchel made from recycled bike tires and plastic bottles that dangles from the back of his chair. “Come on, Dad probably has a series of prerecorded messages so he can run the company postmortem.”

I shoot my brother a glare.

His hands go up in surrender. He knows I don’t like death jokes, especially after Dad’s heart attack. “All I’m saying is, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Not by choice, anyway. And he’s going to run his company the way he always has, even with you there as his sidekick. It’s worked well for him so far.”

“And for you.” I give him a pointed glare. Rhett can afford to spend his days making functional art out of trash because of Dad’s unrelenting work ethic and tenacious drive to succeed.

He rolls his eyes but then acknowledges my point with a sigh and a nod.

“Anyway, if it were up to me, I’d fire Tripp’s ass tomorrow. It makes my blood boil that he could be so disloyal to Dad.”

“Do you really think the guy would take a bribe for a construction contract, though?”

“It would surprise me,” I admit. But Kyle’s confidence is hard to ignore. Though maybe it’s because I want to believe him. Maybe that would be the silver lining to Tripp’s deception—a stepping-off point for Kyle and me to begin talking again.

To what end, though?

“Sounds like you’ve had quite the day.” Rhett’s hand moves fast, snatching three bean pods as if it’s a game.

He doesn’t know the half of it. “I can’t go to Dad with this. He’s already thinking he made a mistake promoting me.”

“Kieran Calloway doesn’t make mistakes like that.” Rhett smiles sympathetically. “He wouldn’t have put you there if he didn’t know you could handle it.”

I snort. “You didn’t hear him shred my eardrum over the phone earlier. I think maybe he’s changed his mind.”

“Doubt it. And, besides, you’re his only option if he wants to keep the business in the family.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way,” I mutter sarcastically, stabbing at a deep-fried cauliflower bite. There are days where I am envious of my brother’s laid-back lifestyle. Days where I sit in my office and wish we could swap roles, so he could take the burden of continuing our father’s legacy off my shoulders, even just for a little while.

But the truth is, I wouldn’t gain any more satisfaction from weaving electrical wire through pipes to make things light up than Rhett would at the helm of the team that’s going to build a thirty-two-story condominium.

We are both exactly where we’re meant to be.

“Please. If I told him tomorrow that I wanted back in, he’d tell me he’d rather dissolve the company than give me a chance. And I don’t, by the way, want anything to do with that world.”

“That’s because you’re too busy smoking pot and playing with silver spoons.”

He grins. “Mock me all you want, but do you know how many of those phone holders we’ve sold? Probably enough to pay for a pair of those ridiculous, overpriced shoes.” He waves his fork toward my Manolos. “What were they, a grand? Two?”

“Funny, I seem to recall a time when you only dated girls who wore ridiculous, overpriced shoes.”

He smirks. “And then I saw the light.”

My brother used to be the archetypal wealthy city-boy type—stylish gelled hair, a taste for expensive clothes, fast cars, and high-society blondes. Moderately entitled, but tempered by my mother’s influence; quick to anger when he didn’t get his way, though he was for the most part disciplined and eager to please my father. He was interning at CG during his summers, being groomed for an executive position.

And then it was like he woke up one day with a new personality and a one-way ticket to Thailand. In truth, there were probably signs that he would one day snap, but the six-year age gap between us made it hard for me to see them.

“Yes, that light is awfully blue and sparkly.” I stare pointedly at the signature robin’s-egg-blue Tiffany bag peeking out from his satchel. It contains a diamond pendant that Lawan had been eyeing online one day but would never dare ask him to buy for her. “I wasn’t mocking you, by the way. I loved the spoon sculpture. And the lamp that just arrived.”

“Yeah?” His eyes twinkle with delight. “And what’d Dad say?”

“He . . . uses it daily.”

Rhett bursts out in laughter and I can’t help but grin. He’s always had a big laugh, but somewhere along the way, it evolved into a hearty, booming sound.

“I hesitated too long, didn’t I?”

“You’re a shitty liar, Piper.”

“It did grab his attention, momentarily, if that means anything.”

“Whatever. I gave up on pleasing him years ago. And I’ll tell you, it was liberating.” He sighs heavily. “Okay, enough about Dad and that place. Tell me what else is going on in your life, so I know you have a good excuse for not coming out to visit us for eight months.”

I cringe. “Has it been that long?”

“Since our store’s grand opening. Lawan’s trying not to take it personally.”

“I’m sorry, really. It’s just been so busy with work, and then the whole breakup and moving and all that . . .”

He tips his bottle of Corona toward me. “Best decision you’ve ever made, shedding those two hundred pounds, by the way. Not gonna lie: I may have cracked a bottle of champagne after Mom spilled the news.” To say David and Rhett did not click is an understatement. The moment we pulled up to their house in David’s Maserati and David stepped out in his polished leather shoes and suit for a casual weekend, Rhett had made his mind up. David only validated his opinion of him when he point-blank told Rhett he was an idiot for not signing a pre-nup to protect his money from Lawan, an especially prickly thorn in my father’s side as well.

It’s the only time I’ve ever seen the pre-Thailand version of my brother: seconds away from knocking my fiancé’s teeth out.

“How’s the condo?”

“Besides the psychotic Siamese cat that was sitting on my nightstand watching me sleep the other night?” I fill Rhett in on my new living situation.

“I really need to meet these camp friends one day.”

“If you weren’t already married, I’d be setting you and Ashley up. You’d be perfect together.”

“Happily married,” he corrects with a warning look.