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“And that required an emergency visit to my office?”

“She shouldn’t be considered.”

I lean back in my chair. “Why?”

“She’s a McLeod,” he says, as if that settles it.

For Daniel, it does.

Our mother left Dad for Ava’s father, Carl, when I was seven. She built a new family with Carl and Ava, then had Jackson, our half brother. We were never part of that life. There were no visits and almost no contact. To us, Ava and Jackson might as well be strangers. Jackson just happens to share some of our DNA.

Daniel hears the McLeod name and remembers who our mother chose. I understand. I felt the same way for years. Then Dad died, and I realized I’d spent most of my life blaming people I barely knew for a choice our mother made. Ava was a child. Jackson hadn’t even been born.

“Look, I invited her to pitch for an event,” I say. “That’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because she runs an event-planning company and we’re planning an event.” I return my attention to the service lane on my screen. “Even you should be able to follow the logic.”

“Dad would never have allowed a McLeod near a Voss event.”

“Dad isn’t making the decisions anymore. I am.”

Daniel’s jaw tightens.

“Ava hasn’t been hired. She’s one of several planners we’re considering. They’ll all receive the same brief, answer the same questions, and be judged by the same standards. She may not get the contract.”

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “How did you two even end up talking?”

“I ran into her at a charity dinner last month. She told me about her company, and we weren’t happy with last year’s planner, so I invited her to pitch.”

“You mean she saw a way into Voss, and you handed it to her.”

“If that’s what she thinks, she’ll be disappointed. An invitation isn’t a promise. She’ll have to earn the contract like everyone else.”

What I don’t tell him is that I also meant the invitation as an olive branch. Ava and Jackson are strangers, but they don’t have to stay that way. Neither of them caused the mess between our parents. I’m done letting Dad’s anger decide who belongs in our lives.

“Anyway, I have an actual problem, in case you haven’t heard. My hotel was delayed today.”

“I saw the email.” Daniel shakes his head. “What kind of moron designs a four-hundred-million-dollar hotel around a service lane he doesn’t own?”

“The old department store used that lane for years. Legal believed we could reach a new agreement with the Hartwell. We didn’t make it a priority.”

“We didn’t, or you didn’t?”

“I didn’t.” There’s no point blaming Legal for a decision I approved. “I expected the council to make access a condition of approval. I didn’t expect Rachel Hartwell to get the entire application delayed.”

“You should’ve secured the lane before approving the design.”

“Thank you, Daniel. That hadn’t occurred to me at any point today.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Get her to agree.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“The architect is already working on a new ground-floor plan, but we won’t need it. I have an excellent record of getting my way.”