Page 148 of His Reckoning

“He already went through enough with you walking away from the business.”

The words land heavier than I’d have expected. My father has never said anything like that out loud.

Not once.

Cole lowers his voice. “He thought you’d take over one day.”

“He never said that.”

“He didn’t think he had to.”

Silence fills the car.

Cole finally exhales. “Look, I’m not trying to guilt you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’m just saying … last night was the first time in years he’s seen you sit at that table without looking like you wanted to escape.”

I rub my thumb along the steering wheel. “And?”

“And it mattered.”

Another pause, and then Cole adds casually, “And Kayla definitely noticed you freezing up when Uncle Tony came up.”

My stomach tightens. “She didn’t say anything.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Cole says. “People see things, Sawyer.”

I lean my head back against the seat. The garage lights flicker across the windshield.

“Are we done here?”

“Yeah,” Cole says. Then his voice softens slightly. “For what it’s worth … Mom asked if you’re bringing Kayla back next Sunday.”

I let out a quiet laugh. “You’re assuming she’ll still be around.”

Cole chuckles. “Something tells me she will.”

The line goes dead. I sit in the quiet car for another moment before shutting the engine off.

Because the truth is, for the first time in years, I’m not entirely sure I know what I want.

* * *

When I step inside the penthouse, the first thing I hear is soft music. The second thing I see nearly stops me in my tracks.

Kayla is in the middle of the living room floor, balanced on a yoga mat in a position that looks physically impossible.

She’s wearing a sports bra and spandex shorts that leave very little to the imagination, and one leg is hooked behind her while she leans forward, arms stretched out in front of her.

For a second, I forget about the phone call, the restaurant … everything.

A slow smile pulls at the corner of my mouth.

“Well,” I say casually as I walk farther into the room, “this is new.”

Kayla doesn’t move right away. She shifts slightly, adjusting the pose before finally turning her head to look at me through her arms. Her ponytail swings with the motion.