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“Olivia says she knows your new wife.” Byron got on the treadmill on
the other side of mine.
I was fucking surrounded. “Oh, yeah?”
“She fit Olivia’s gown from last night,” Byron said, setting his run, then
checking mine.
“Great.”
“Speaks highly.” Byron upped the grade and started. He’d scale a wall
just to beat me. “Very talented. She was surprised Ella’s not running that
company by now.”
“Her stepmother got control in the will.”
“Apparently. How’s she feel about that?”
“Ask her.”
“I might.” Byron’s belt picked up speed.
I made a note to warn Ella it would come up. We had to craft a
response. I didn’t want any red flags popping up before we started buying
shares. Then it was going to get real adversarial, real fast.
My body was so engaged in the run, I forgot to steel myself against the
pleasure of the story of us taking back what was hers. Doing something just
and right, together. The pitfalls, the wins, the eventual, indisputable victory
of putting her back where she belonged.
Ella was a fighter, and I was her champion.
Byron cut right into the fantasy. “Did you see the new bid on the
pipeline?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s interesting.”
“Let’s not bore Colton with business.”
“Not bored,” the brother on my other side said.
“Good,” Byron said. “If you want to work at Crowne—”
“What?”
“He needs a job,” Byron said. “And you know Dad. He’ll find
something for him to do.”
I knew Dad fine, but I knew Mom better. She was the one who’d put a
net under Colton. Dad would teach you to swim by throwing you off a pier
and rescuing you if he thought you’d drown. Mom would jump into a
kiddie pool to make sure we were all right.
“Nah,” Colton said. “I’m cool.”
Byron leaned over to look past me at Colton. “It’ll be good for you.”