Chapter 5: Gate Six

"Nolan," I said. "You're Preston's brother?"

The man with the scar in his eyebrow did not look at Preston. He looked only at me.

"Younger brother," he said. "By three years."

My husband had told me once that he had a brother named Nolan who had cut the family off. He had never said anyone called him Lane.

"Get out," Preston said again. "You have no business in this room."

"I own thirty percent of the voting shares in this company, Preston. Dad left them to me. I think I do."

A murmur went around the table.

The chair of the board put down his glass.

Preston's mouth went flat. "You haven't voted a share in ten years."

"I'm thinking of starting."

Nobody at that table moved. Mallory's mother kept looking from one man to the other, and then at her daughter's red hand.

I couldn't stay another minute in that room.

I walked out with my chin up and my knees not quite working.

I took the stairs, because I didn't trust the elevator. I reached the lobby and then the sidewalk, where cold rain came down in sheets.

Behind me, quick steps came down the marble.

"Leah."

I turned around.

He had left his glass behind and caught up with me, rain flattening his hair.

I looked at his face for the first time in ten years.

The lines around his eyes were new. The green was the same.

"You stood me up," I said.

His face changed.

"I what?"

"Union Station. You told me to wait at gate six. I waited three hours. I called the number you gave me, and it rang and rang."

"I waited at gate six for four hours," he said, slowly. "I got there before you. I never moved. I left at two in the morning."

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