“Whatever. Just make sure you let me know when Lawan runs off with the gardener and half your money.” A scenario my father offered up when trying to convince my brother to sign the pre-nup his lawyers had drafted, the day before their wedding.

I’m only teasing, of course. I’ve never seen a more content and loving couple than Rhett and Lawan. He makes her tea every night and drives to a bakery one town over every Saturday morning for her favorite almond croissants; I’ve never even heard him raise his voice to her.

Rhett takes a swig from his beer. “And what about you? Dating yet?”

“Not yet.” It’s funny, just a few weeks ago, that answer would have been more along the lines of “Hell no,” and punctuated with a bitter laugh. Now, though, the second Rhett asked, my mind instantly veered to the lobby at work, and to the man behind the security desk.

“Don’t worry, someone decent will come along soon enough.” He adds in a grumble, “Preferably as opposite to Worthington as possible.”

“He definitely is that,” I mutter under my breath as I take a sip of my wine.

Too loudly, it seems.

Rhett leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Okay, spill it. So there is someone?”

“No . . .”

“An architect.”

“No.”

“Investor.”

“No.”

“Tennis pro?”

I cringe.

“Masseuse?”

“Stop it.”

“The gardener?”

I laugh and joke, “I don’t want Lawan’s sloppy seconds.”

Rhett’s knowing eyebrows arch as he waits expectantly. Another Calloway trait he’s inherited is tenacity. As in, the rest of our dinner will be hijacked by this one topic until I give in.

I groan. “Okay, but don’t tell anyone. Especially not Mom.”

I wait to get his nod of agreement.

“Do you remember that guy I was with at summer camp? I’m sure Mom must have told you about him. Kyle?”

“I don’t think . . .” His mouth curls with a frown and his brow tightens with concentration as he struggles.

“He was from Poughkeepsie.” I hesitate. “His father and two of his brothers were in prison.”

“Oh yeah!” Recognition fills his face, as I knew it would eventually. “Daddy’s sweet Princess Piper got caught with her pants down on the wrong side of the tracks that summer. Finally took some of the heat off me. Especially when you got fired.” He starts humming Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Anyway, I kind of ran into him.” I explain.

“He’s working as a security guard at Calloway?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. That’s something.” He frowns. “If I remember correctly, you guys got into some serious trouble together. Wasn’t there some kind of accident with a kid?”

“With one of the counselors, yeah.” My stomach tightens with the memory of that night, with how lucky we were, how bad it could have been.

Rhett’s fingers draw along his chin, scratching at the day-old scruff, as he processes. “Does Dad know this guy is working there?”

“No.” I shake my head to emphasize this.

A wide grin slowly splits Rhett’s face. “So, are you two—”

“No.”

“But you want to?”

“I don’t know what I want.” Is that even true?

My brother’s curious frown tells me he knows it isn’t.

“I want to know why he disappeared like that on me. It was a jerk thing to do.”

I want to know when exactly he stopped caring. Was it right away or over time? Or did he never really feel anything at all?

Was I just being naïve?

I grind my teeth with the thought that Kyle might have fed me adoring lines and intimate touches to get what he wanted from me before summer was over.

“Huh. Small world, I tell ya,” Rhett murmurs.

“That’s the thing.” I relay what Gus told me about Kyle requesting the transfer to our building. “What do you think that means?”

“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.