KATHERINE

I woke up to a knock on the door.

"Food's almost ready," said Erland. "Also, when are we going to Matt's place?"

I threw an arm over my head. "This afternoon. Whenever Matthew gets off work, he's going to call to pick us up." I didn't want to think about moving again. But, truth to be told, I was glad to be leaving Nick's house.

I got dressed and walked downstairs to the kitchen. Nick stood before a pan, looking way out of his depth with an apron tied around his back. He cursed as his finger touched the edge of the pan.

"Need some help?" I asked wryly.

"Nah," said Erland, with an amused grin, "he's fine just on his own. Aren't you, Nick?"

Nick grunted something back, but didn't turn around.

Erland sunk his teeth into an apple. "So," he said, through a mouthful of fruit, "what happened to you guys last night?"

"We went out to dinner," I said. "There were a few unfinished things we needed to discuss."

Erland chewed thoughtfully. "Everything work out fine, then?"

"Not exactly . . ." I said slowly. Before us, Nick's shoulders tensed at my words. "There's the matter of Wayward Publishing."

Erland's eyes lit up as his face shot to Nick. "You told her?" he gasped, unable to hide his excitement.

I looked between my brother and Nick. "You knew?" I couldn't help but feel hurt.

Nick turned around. "Yes, he knew a few things, but not what I told you last night. Erland, your sister owns half of Wayward Publishing. Along with half of the earnings we've made over the past four years."

"Close your mouth before you drool all over the table, Erland," I chided.

"We're rich?" he asked. "We can take the money and go back to Pennsylvania? I don't have to start at that stupid school tomorrow?"

I looked to Nick. The same questions had been plaguing me since I settled in to bed last night, but I couldn't find it in me to meet Nick's gaze. Nor, did it seem, could he meet mine.

"Not exactly," he said, serving up two plates of fried eggs and bacon. "The money is tied up in your shares of Wayward Publishing. It was the only way to keep Victoria from buying you out initially."

I narrowed my eyes. "So I technically own half the company, but I'm only working as an editorial assistant?"

Nick's cheeks reddened slightly. "You don't have to if you won't want to. You can come up and work with me and the Committee."

I looked to my brother. He was picking at the charred bacon with a look of distaste. "What do you think, Er?"

Erland snapped his head to me, his demeanor suddenly very hard. "Do you really need to ask? I say you should sell all your shares and use that money to get us back home. Put it all towards Mom."

With that, he grabbed the bacon and slipped off the barstool. "I'll be in the gameroom once you change your mind."

I hung my head in my hands, elbows cold against the granite countertop.

"What are you going to do?" Nick spoke so quietly, I didn't know it was him that spoke at first.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I don't know."

Being head of a publishing house was my dream. Five years ago, it manifested itself in putting up a bookstore with Nick. With everything falling apart around me, did I have it in me to ditch my last chance at achieving my dream?

Before I could ponder much further, a phone rang. Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it to his ear.

"Hey, Tori," he said.

I couldn't hear the words on the other side, but her tone was cool.

"I'm doing well down here. It's very quiet without you to keep me company." Nick chuckled sheepishly, well aware that I had my eyes trained on him. "When are you coming back? . . . Okay, I'll see you later today, then . . . Love you."

Victoria hung up without even a reply.

A sour taste filled my mouth. I tried to drown it out with orange juice while Nick took his apron off.

"The Committee is having a meeting today at noon. You should come." He straightened his shirt, though he still left the top button undone. He shrugged on his blazer. "I'll be leaving here in about an hour," he said, "if you want to join me."

I tensed as he walked by me. "I'll find my way."

Nick left the kitchen. I didn't breathe until I heard his footsteps receding up the stairs.

After a few moments, I went to get dressed.

* * *

Yesterday, I only had to go to the sixth floor to reach my office. When I asked the secretary in the lobby, I learned that the Committee met on the thirty-first floor. One below the penthouse offices.

I fidgeted with my sleeves as the elevator slowly ascended. While Nick went off to do God knows what, I spend the past hour picking out my most professional attire. My hair, usually somewhat of a mess, hung in ringlets down my back, and while I never usually wore make-up, I knew that what I wore snatched up some attention.

The elevator stopped on the tenth floor and in walked Nick. He'd changed since my last encounter with him. Silver cufflinks glittered on his wrists, and a black tie split his chest down the middle. His hair was still a ruffled mess, but his eyes glowed fiercely.

"All you have to do is be quiet," he said, as we passed the twentieth floor. "I'll do all the talking."

"I don't want any more of your lies," I hissed, unable to keep the venom out of my voice.

"I'm not going to lie, Katherine." His voice was urgent. "But the Committee doesn't know you. They're hesitant to trust you. Let me speak. Trust me."

A steely silence sat between us all the way to the thirty-first floor. We exited into a large meeting room. A dark oval table, populated with eight unwavering faces, sat in the center of the room. A ninth chair sat empty.

The man closest to us stood first, shaking Nick's hand, then offering to me.

"Mr. Masiello," he said, with a smile. "Ms. Malloy. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Nick's eyes flashed. "Thank you, Gregory," he said, stepping between us. "But we have a meeting to begin."

"Oh, no you don't," said a voice behind me. I turned. "Not without me first."

Victoria's eyes glittered as she stared past me to Nick.

"Did you really think you could have such an important meeting without me, Nicholas?"