Page 96 of Second Time Around

“Then do it. You’ve given Dad six years and made it to junior partner, which is more than I did.” Will touched one of the hands she had clenched around the glass. “You don’t owe him any more than that.”

Schuyler turned to face him. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you happy?”

“I know why you’re a good lawyer. You never give up.” Will sipped his scotch as he considered her question. “I accomplished what I set out to do.”

“Which was?” His sister kept her gaze on him.

“Build a business from scratch. Make it a success.” Will gave her a tight smile. “Shove it in Dad’s face when I did.”

“And now what?”

“I’ve got a company to run.” Although he was taking the next afternoon off to attend the K-9 Angelz adoption ceremony at the Carver Center. He’d been honored and touched that Isaiah would invite him, but he’d accepted for the least noble of reasons: he hoped to see Kyra there. “What would you think about me teaching ancient history?”

“Teaching? You?” Schuyler’s eyebrows rose, but then she shrugged. “You always loved that stuff. Gods throwing thunderbolts. Greeks fighting Persians. Romans building aqueducts. You used to go on and on about it on school breaks.”

“Was I a dead bore?”

“No, and that’s why you might make a good teacher. I used to ask for more of your stories, remember?”

She had, but he’d always put it down to boredom when they were at home, away from their school friends. Now he felt a sense of possibility.

“Of course, Mum and Dad would hate it,” Schuyler continued. “Which is why you should do it.”

“We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?” Will couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. “Still thinking about our parents’ approval.”

“Mum and Dad are pretty overwhelming personalities,” Schuyler said. “And they care more about how we reflect on them than on what we really want.”

There was a perfunctory knock on the door before it opened and their father strode in. “Hello, Schuyler.”

“Speak of the devil,” Will muttered under his breath.

Twain Chase’s stride hitched as his gaze fell on Will. “Well, here’s a happy surprise,” he said with what seemed like genuine pleasure. “What brings you here, son?”

He held out his hand to Will, who shook it. “Consulting with Schuyler on a legal matter, sir.”

Their father’s eyebrows rose. “I wasn’t aware that Cronus used our firm’s services.”

Will shook his head. “Not for Cronus.”

“It’s the pro bono case I mentioned,” Schuyler said.

“Right, right,” Twain said. “Some nonsense about a dog bite.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Although it brought the three of us together here, so I can’t complain. I see you’ve been enjoying the bar so I think I’ll join you.”

“I’ll get it, sir,” Will said, heading for the bar. “What would you like?”

A look of hurt crossed his father’s face. “Scotch, straight up. Just like yours.”

“I wasn’t sure if that was still your preference,” Will said, to reassure his father that he hadn’t forgotten they shared the same taste in alcohol. “Schuyler stocks good scotch so I should have guessed, since she prefers rye.”

Twain accepted the glass Will brought over. “Sit with me. Both of you,” Twain said, settling himself on the couch. “Tell me what you’re doing these days.”

Schuyler sat sideways in an upholstered chair and slung one leg over its arm. “I’m racking up the billable hours, as usual, Pops. Nothing new here.”

Her father winced at her casual nickname but didn’t complain about it. “I hear you want to take on the Winslett divorce. That’s an ugly one.”

“I think I can help Bethany Winslett receive her fair share of the assets. It’s going to take some fancy footwork, though.”

Will flashed her a questioning look and she nodded back. This must be another of the cases where she felt she could make a difference.