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I walk into the penthouse after a hell of a long day.

Holden has become a magician of sorts. Whenever I show up at his office to discuss anything, he’s disappeared.

Our brief conversation on my first day back at Carden covered the basics of the company’s growth since I left. My brother touched on the new product lines and the long-time employees who had either left or retired in my absence.

There was no eye contact between us or any pleasantries. It was two men sorting through a short list of business matters before we parted ways.

Today, I needed to speak with him regarding the launch of a new store in Los Angeles. His assistant claimed Holden was tied up in meetings, but I have access to his calendar, which was bare.

I give him major points for avoiding me like a champ, but he can’t keep that up for the next year.

A bark in the distance reminds me that Dudley is lurking around. I suppose the helpful roommate thing to do would be to take him for a walk. I glance at the suit I’m wearing. Since I put in a rush order at Berdine, I’m in a new suit today. It’s pale gray with a light blue shirt and a navy tie.

I’ll handle dog-walking duties, then take a shower and change into sweatpants.

“Dudley!” I call out to him to lure him to the foyer.

Just as I reach for his leash on the table, a voice calls back to me. “What? Woof!”

“What the hell?” I mutter because that voice is too high-pitched to belong to Sinclair.

“It’s me Dudley.” The voice calls again, followed by a round of giggles. “What do you want? Woof!”

I may not have been able to place the voice immediately, but that giggle is unique. I know exactly who that belongs to, so I play along. “Do you feel like going for a walk, Duds?”

“A walk!” Soft footsteps pad along the hardwood in the hallway. “To the ice cream store on the corner? Woof!”

“Nope!” I call back. “Dogs don’t eat ice cream. If you were a person, I could get you some, but since you’re a dog…”

“It’s me!” Stevie Morgan jumps into view. “It’s me, Jameson.”

I have to take a step back because time really does not stand still for anyone. The last time I saw Sinclair’s niece, she was seven years old and missing a couple of teeth in the front of her mouth.

This little brown-haired lady in front of me is more than a foot taller now with a beautiful smile. “Stevie?”

She rushes at me with her arms outstretched. “I missed you, Jameson!”

I bundle her up in my arms and close my eyes. “I’ve missed you too.”

When my eyes pop open, I see Sinclair standing at the entrance to the hallway with her oldest brother by her side.

“Jameson,” Berk Morgan says my name as he steps toward me. “It’s good to see you again.”

The smile on his face is evidence that Sinclair never told him about what happened between us. If she had, Berk would be out for blood. He protects his family at all costs.

Our relationship wasn’t close because of the ten year gap in our ages, but I always felt his presence in the background, making sure no harm came to his sister.

Sinclair would take care of her niece sometimes. That’s when I started a friendship with the little girl. The three of us would hang out at the park or the library. Occasionally, we’d watch a movie at Berk’s house when he was working late. Sinclair was in charge of popcorn. My contribution was an assortment of candy from Carden. Stevie would always choose a fairytale movie with a prince and a princess.

A few times, she insisted that Sinclair was the princess and I was her prince. She was a kid, so we always laughed it off.

“I was going to meet up with them for dinner,” Sinclair explains. “Stevie insisted on stopping by here first to see Dudley.”

The mention of his name brings the Yorkshire Terrier running toward his owner at breakneck speed.

“Why don’t you come for dinner with us?” Stevie tugs at the sleeve of my jacket. “We’re going for pizza. You like that, right?”

“I should stay here and…”

“We’d love to have you join us,” Berk interrupts me. “It’s low-key. Just some pizza and soda.”

“Say you’ll come.” Stevie grins. “You’re Auntie Sinclair’s best friend after all.”

I don’t correct her. Sinclair doesn’t either.

“I’ll come,” I say, unsure if it’s a mistake to agree to join them. “I just need a minute to ditch the suit for something more comfortable.”

“Wait.” Stevie takes a half-step back to look me over. “That suit is…” She brings her index finger and thumb to her lips. “It’s chef’s kiss.”

Everyone laughs.

I nod. “In that case, I won’t lose the suit.”

Stevie tilts her chin up. “I remember that you kept candies in your pockets for me.”

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