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“Good.” She catches herself and straightens her spine. “We should get coffee soon. Just us.”

My throat tightens. “Sure. When I’m not swamped with work.”

“You’re always swamped?—”

Someone clears their throat behind me.

I turn, my spine snapping straight on instinct. Dad stands in the doorway, his gray eyes, so like Anne’s, sweep over us, lingering on her, then settling on me with that familiar mix of disappointment and dismissal before returning to my step-sister.

“Anne.” His voice warms. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Her voice shifts, professional and cool. Like she’s addressing a business associate rather than our father. “Happy birthday.”

Their relationship wasn’t good, to begin with, but since Dad’s heart attack, it worsened.

Dad turns to Landon, extending his hand. “Landon. Good to see you.”

“David.” Landon’s grip is firm, matching his energy.

My guess? Landon hates him.

“Dinner’s ready.” Dad’s attention slides past me like I’m part of the furniture. “Lydia’s outdone herself tonight.”

My hands curl into fists. “Hello to you too, Dad.”

He pauses, finally sparing me a glance. “Naomi. I thought we already greeted each other. I trust those projections are finished?”

Not ‘how are you?’ or ‘glad you could make it.’ Just work. Always work.

“On your desk this morning.” I force my voice steady. “Along with the quarterly reports you didn’t ask for.”

“Good.” He checks his watch. “Though next time, try to have them in before nine. Some of us start our day earlier.”

The dig hits its mark. I’d been there since seven. And he didn’t even look at them so what’s the point? “I?—”

Mykel bounds in with his girlfriend, saving me from saying something I’ll 100% regret.

“Dad!” He wraps our father in a hug. “Happy birthday, old man!”

His girlfriend steps forward. “Mr. Smith, thank you so much for having me. Your home is absolutely gorgeous.”

“Isn’t she lovely?” My mother appears behind them. “Madison was just telling me about her charity work…”

Another perfect woman for my mother’s collection. Poor Madison.

Dad’s attention snaps to Mykel’s girlfriend. “Madison, is it? Tell me more about this charity work.”

I sink into the background as they cluster around her, watching the show. Mom’s hand flutters to Madison’s arm, and Dad actually smiles, his eyes doing that crinkling.

I still can’t figure out if that’s his real smile or the strained one.

Mykel breaks away from the spotlight, bounding over to us. “Nay, I gotta say, you look…” He studies my face, and his smile dims. “Different.”

I force my lips up. “Thanks?”

“Good different,” he backtracks. “Just… are you eating enough? You seem?—”

“Mykel.” Anne’s voice carries a warning.

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