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My dad picks up on the first ring. “Omar?”

“Hi, Dad.” I don’t know why I expected his voice to sound different after all this time, but it doesn’t. And the months we haven’t talked melt away.

“I guess you’ve heard the news.”

“All of it. Yes. You’re leaving the Fund?”

“Yes. I was only there because we were doing it together.”

“We were hardly doing it together. You ran it. I was the face of it.”

“You were the energy behind it. At least for me. And with you gone, it’s not worth the sacrifices I made to take it.”

“I’m not gone, Dad, and we’re still doing it together. I just needed a break. And I’ve been addressing the items you send my way.”

He sighs. “Listen, everyone knows we’re not on speaking terms, and this tantrum you’ve thrown has undermined my authority.”

“Tantrum? My mother died, and I found out you’d been lying to me for more than a decade. I haven’t taken a break from work since I was fifteen. And if your email wasn’t effective, you could have picked up the phone anytime and called me.”

“Frankly, I’m not ready to speak with you either, son. Until you can apologize to me, I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to. I know you’re grieving, and I understand that you need a break. But I’m not going to put my life on hold for you. I’ll give you until the end of the year.”

My disappointment in his attempt to make himself the aggrieved party is only outweighed by my anger. “You know, this might actually be for the best.”

“What?” He sounds shocked.

“You’ve done an incredible job, but maybe it’s time for me to have a CEO who understands who he works for.”

“I’ve given up everything for you.”

“No, but you forced my mother to. And then you turned your back on her.”

“I didn’t force her to do anything. She made her choices.”

“I don’t want to rehash this, Dad.”

“Fine,” he snaps. “You know…you’ve made me so proud your entire life. I used to think it wasn’t possible for you to disappoint me. How wrong I was.” He hangs up.

Fuck. This has gone from bad to worse. My gut twisted when Layel said he was leaving. But after that conversation, I really dothink it’s for the best. He doesn’t respect me, and I’m too angry still.

I rub my temples to try and ease the pounding between them. I don’t want to think about any of that shit. I came here so I didn’t have to.

I pick up the phone again to text Jules and then put it back down. I’m in a weird mood, and I’m not sure even her bright smile is enough to lift it. And I don’t want to take it out on her.

But damn. I miss her.

She’s a fireball of mystery and magic and is as complicated and clever as she is beautiful. She enchants and terrifies me. I’ve dated women who’ve made me feel both of those things, but never all at once.

I’ve also never spent this much time getting to know someone I wanted to sleep with. We’ve even established a routine. We eat dinner out unless it’s Monday or Thursday when she’s behind the bar. Those nights I walk down to the pub and wait for her to get off. We go up to her place and watch TV. Or just talk—about everything from politics to prose. And we laugh. A lot.

She hasn’t complained about me being a homebody. She hasn’t asked me to buy her anything. I haven’t read any of the personal things I’ve told her about me in the gossip sheets. She’s always game when I ask her out. She texts just to say hello. She’s perfect.

And damn, I miss her. It’s Saturday night. We didn’t have plans, but we never really do. And I haven’t heard from her since this morning.

I send her a text:“Where are you?”

A text comes right back.

“Outside.”