“I’m thinking following the first class to graduation and then beyond.”

“You must have a lot of faith in me.”

“In the words of Gannon King, ‘I’d be a fucking moron not to.’”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Is my uglier, older half around?” Gannon and Cat were twins born two minutes apart. Neither of them was hard on the eyes, and their sincere brotherly-sisterly angst had won the hearts of viewers everywhere. The reality TV world was still mourning the fact that Gannon had gone back to managing their grandfather’s construction business.

“He’s putting Gabby down, but he’ll want to know about the Hais.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow once I know how they fared.”

“Okay. If they need anything at all, let us know. I’m serious. I’ve got some time between now and the end of the year. And I know Gannon will juggle things to make time.”

“Will do, sis. Thanks.”

They ended the call, and Cat listened to the unceasing rain while staring up at her ceiling. She’d been in this space for five years now. Everything in the two-bedroom Brooklyn apartment was exactly the way she wanted it. The teal textured walls of the master bedroom. The refinished hardwood. The kitchen had taken her eight weeks of her own labor to get just perfect. Everything in it was just perfect right down to the custom-sized clawfoot tub in the bathroom.

It made her antsy.

Cat would never consider herself a settler-downer. Sure, Gannon made it look appealing with his smart-ass, beautiful wife and their gush-worthy baby girl in their gorgeous brownstone six blocks away. But that wasn’t for Cat. The idea of walking in the same door every day to the same man? It gave her the heebie-jeebies. Life was too big and bright for that. Maybe later. Maybe when she hit her mid-forties she’d change her mind. But for now, she loved her life just the way it is. Traveling light and not having to consider anyone else’s feelings or opinions on decisions. She went where she wanted when she wanted, slept with men without strings or guilt, and designed her space to exactly suit her tastes.

Maybe it was time to move on and find a new real estate project to satisfy her wanderlust?

She thought of the Hais and felt a stab of guilt. Here she was mentally whining to herself about living in the same perfect property for too long, and her friends were in danger of losing their home. It’s not like the network would swoop in a second time to rebuild their home—

Cat’s feet hit the floor as she propelled herself into a seated position.

Maybe they would…

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

“Holy. Shit.”