Lander is exactly where he said he’d be, room 552. He’s leaning against a long table, his arms crossed, his foot tapping impatiently. Yet even in his impatience there’s something . . . kind. Yes, there’s something kind about him.

Minutes ago I betrayed this man’s trust . . .

. . . but then can you betray the trust of a man who doesn’t trust you?

“You didn’t tell me you were coming here today,” he says as I enter the room, quickly closing the door and locking it behind me.

“Travis called me in at the last minute,” I explain.

How would Lander react if he knew that I had just made sure that his own brother didn’t trust him at all? Would he lash out at me? Would he reach out to Travis in solidarity?

Would he hate me?

“And what did you do for him?” he asks, his voice dripping with the assumption that whatever I did, it wasn’t platonic.

“I told you, it’s not like that. I work for him, that’s all.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“That’s because you didn’t really ask me a question. It was more of an accusation.”

He looks away, muttering something under his breath.

I study his profile. Was there ever a woman who looked at this man who didn’t also want to touch him? How unfortunate for him that he gave that permission to me.

If I needed to justify my recent actions beyond the parameters of revenge, I could point to the fact that Travis really shouldn’t trust Lander any more than Lander should trust him. All I’m doing is pulling on a string that has already begun to unravel.

When Justice calls the brothers’ names and their lies are laid bare for all to see, they’ll have no one to blame but themselves.

So why do I feel guilty?

“How did you know I was here?” I ask quietly.

“I was told that Travis was meeting with his personal assistant,” he says, before adding with a bit more acidity, “a meeting that ‘couldn’t be interrupted.’ ”

Funny, I think, your father obviously wasn’t given that same message, but I keep that observation to myself.

“I get why you’re upset,” I continue. “You still don’t know me very well, but you do know your brother and . . . well, I can see why you’re suspicious of his intentions.”

“What do you mean?” Lander asks sharply.

I pause for a moment, suddenly a bit off-balance. I had planned this exchange. I had been prepared to lie to him by telling him that his brother was lecherous and generally up to no good. But the thing is, Travis has made lying unnecessary. Not only is he awful, manipulative, and sexually aggressive, but he’s also crazy. Any man who would send me out to buy Tylenol disguised as cocaine has to be seriously whacked in the head.