Page 64

“Are you any good?”

“No.”

“Do you ever use more than one word at a time?”

Daniel meets her eyes. He holds her gaze for a moment, then reaches for his water without answering.

Ava lets out a quiet laugh. “That’s a no, then.” She turns to Tom with the same easy smile. “Do you play?”

“I dabble. Daniel’s the real talent. He can find a tree from anywhere on the course.”

Daniel takes a drink and lets the comment pass. Usually, he’d remind Tom how many balls he sends into the pond, so his silence catches my attention.

I’m still watching him when Carl sets down his fork and turns to me. “How’s the new development?”

“It’s moving. We should have approval soon.”

“The lady next door made him redesign the whole ground floor,” Tom says.

Mom frowns. “Why?”

“Our first design relied on the Hartwell’s service lane. They wouldn’t let us use it.”

“They wouldn’t share?”

“The lane belongs to them. They had every right to refuse.” I reach for my wine. “I should’ve secured access before approving the plans.”

Tom looks at me. Daniel does too.

“The new design works,” I add. “It’s handled.”

Tom continues watching me, while Daniel returns to his food. The conversation dies, leaving only the sound of knives against plates.

Carl wipes his mouth with his napkin and turns to Ava, clearly trying to move lunch along. “How’s the proposal for Voss coming?”

“Almost finished. I’ll send it in by Wednesday.”

“Nothing brings a family together like a Voss contract,” Daniel mutters.

Ava turns toward him. “What was that?”

Daniel places his knife beside his plate and looks at her properly. “You’ve never had anything to do with us. Now there’s a contract up for grabs, and suddenly you’re here for Sunday lunch.”

“I invited her,” I say. “The pitch and lunch were separate invitations.”

Ava’s smile doesn’t fade. “If my absence bothered you, Daniel, you could’ve done something about it.”

Daniel holds her gaze for a moment, then places his napkin beside his plate. “I have to go.”

“Where?” I ask.

He picks up his sunglasses. “To make sure Dad isn’t turning in his grave.”

Daniel walks out, and the front door closes behind him.

“Sorry about that,” I say to Ava.

She glances at his empty chair. “He was fine. I work in events. Last month, I watched a bride throw a centerpiece at her mother. Daniel leaving before dessert hardly counts as a disaster.”