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“This is my temporary position.”

“At the front desk?”

“For General Winter, yeah.”

“Where the hell is Christian?”

“He had to take a call.”

Troy’s head snapped up. “Shit, is his sister okay?”

“Uh, I don’t know?”

Troy knew from having spoken with Christian before that his sister had fibromyalgia. It generally wasn’t a problem, but there had been a particularly bad moment where she’d been weak from too many sleepless nights due to her pain and had fallen down a flight of stairs. She’d been alright, save for the broken wrist, but Troy knew Christian worried about her.

“Did he sound worried when he left?”

Oscar nodded toward the nearby door. “He’s been in there for about ten minutes but didn’t sound upset.”

Troy raised a brow. “Would you have even noticed if he was?”

Oscar scowled. “I’m not good with people, but I know someone who sounds upset and someone who doesn’t, okay?”

Troy squirmed uncomfortably and resisted the urge to peek into the room to see what was happening.

Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” Troy asked.

“You keep your nose out of his business. He sounded fine.”

“You aren’t the boss of me.”

“Yeah, but I’m allowed to keep you out of any room you’re not allowed in,” Oscar told him smugly.

Troy narrowed his eyes but couldn’t think of a witty comeback. The knowing smirk on Oscar’s face told him he knew it too, and Troy had to resist the urge to flick him on the forehead as he would have done in the old days.

Troy sighed. “Well, how are you feeling?”

Oscar blinked. “What?”

“Has it been so long since someone wondered how you were that you’ve forgotten the meaning?”

Oscar scowled. “Don’t be an ass.”

Troy chuckled, unable to suppress his amusement. “You can growl and stamp your feet all you want, but that’s not going to make me back down now any more than it did back then.”

Oscar’s scowl held for a few seconds before dropping. The gruff man averted his eyes, looking toward his computer screen as it beeped at him.

“General Winter says he can see you now.”

Troy’s smile flickered, and he hated the feeling of disappointment that rose in his chest. “Can see me but isn’t ready. The man is more stubborn about his health care than he is about ensuring the rest of us get it.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” Oscar muttered.

Troy pushed away from the desk and approached General Winter’s office door. He hated the feeling that there was a gulf between him and Oscar after all these years, but he hated his disappointment at that feeling even more. It was in the past, and it belonged in the past, and that tiny little hope and fear in his chest, born from the first moment he’d seen Oscar in six years, was stupid and unnecessary.

Oscar cleared his throat, glancing at Troy as he passed. “Hope you’ve been doing okay.”