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“Yes.”

“And you still want to work here, despite the fact that he might be coming onboard as a consultant?”

“Yes.” I shrugged. “Look, I need the hours for my degree and I’m not interested in a favor. I don’t want you to invent a title for me or to assign me an executive assistant whose primary goal will be to prevent me from saying inappropriate things to the board.”

He scoffed down a laugh. “Okay, so no babysitter. No office on this floor. Anything else?”

“Yeah. I want to something I can actually learn from and where I can gain the practical experience I need, but I also can’t be in a position that will require seventy-hour work weeks.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said after studying me for a moment. “What do you want to do, then? It sounds like you’ve given this a decent amount of thought, so hit me with it.”

“Logistics.”

His eyebrows shot all the way up this time. “You want me to put you in the manufacturing division?”

I nodded. “Supply chain. Distribution. Shipping. Inventory. Whatever you have on that side of the business. I’m not fussy.”

“Why?” he asked, standing up and striding toward the window. “You’ve never been in that division before.”

“That’s exactly why I want to go there now. When else am I going to have the opportunity to learn about that part of it?”

“They’ve been struggling with shipping schedules,” he said thoughtfully. “The logistics have become a low-key nightmare ever since the GlobalStar expansion. It’s never been particularly glamorous over there, but that’s even more true right now. Trent’s family is keeping us busy too. Between them and the Saads, it’s been crazy.”

“Fabulous. Sorting that out for you sounds like a dream come true.”

He snorted. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re asking. If I put you there, you’ll be dealing with warehouse managers, carriers, suppliers, inventory software, customs documentation⁠—”

“You’re still not scaring me.”

“You’ll also be dealing with my wife and her family.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Are you prepared for Basel, Khaled, and Jasmine freaking out about bringing a baby range into the States every other minute?”

“I love the Saads.”

He laughed. “Are you really this eager to get your hands dirty?”

“Bring it on, baby.”

Chuckling as he returned to his desk, he blew out a heavy breath, glanced at the ceiling like he was sending up a prayer, then nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll put you with manufacturing and shipping, but don’t come crying to me when the customs guys are mean or Khaled threatens to rip off your⁠—”

“Got it,” I said. “Khaled loves me. The Saads and I are tight, and if the boys are mean to me, I’ll tell your wife.”

“Deja is even meaner,” he joked, then turned back to his computer and clicked something. “Since it’s going to be a work-study position, you won’t get an executive salary.”

“Yep.”

“You’ll report to the operations manager and if you screw up⁠—”

“Let me guess, you’ll fire me?”

The corners of his lips curved ever so slightly. “Sure, if you want me to, but I was going to say I’ll make you fix it.”

“That’s also acceptable.”

Colin tapped rapidly at his keyboard for a few seconds, turned back to me, grinned like a smug hare, and leaned back in his chair again. “Welcome back to the fold, little brother. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist us forever.”

I groaned, but deep down, those words affected me more than I’d thought they might. For so long, I’d distanced myself from everything Thayer. They’d been trying to bring me back for years, but until my recent foray into the corporate structure, I’d never even considered it.

Now it sort of feels like coming home.