“Hey,” I said belatedly.

“Hi.” She smiled shyly and gestured at the sofa. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

Her feet were bare, her toenails painted pale pink. She tucked them beneath herself as she sat. “What are you doing?”

I glanced at the computer, and my stomach soured. I didn’t want to open the topic of her brother right now. Fortunately, my phone buzzed before I could reply. I checked it. “I ordered pizza. It’s downstairs now. Don’t leave the apartment while I’m gone.”

She gave me a wry look. “Where would I go?”

“Good point.”

I headed out, pleased to see Sean, a muscular Black man, standing guard at the door. “Thanks for coming in on your weekend.”

“No problem, King.”

I nodded respectfully, and he returned the gesture. “The primary goal is to protect Willow,” I told him. “Someone is after her, and we’re not sure who.”

“Got it.” He adjusted his stance. “I’ve only met her once, but she seemed like a sweet woman. Don’t worry, nobody will get past me.”

“Thank you, Sean.” I took the elevator to the ground floor to collect the pizza. When I returned to the living room, Willow hadn’t moved from her position on the sofa. I placed the pizzas on the coffee table and went to get us each a plate. “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” I said. “So I got pepperoni, cheese, and vegetarian.”

Her eyes widened. “Any of those is fine. I’m not fussy.”

We each grabbed a slice. Willow didn’t say anything while we ate. The adrenaline rush from earlier must have left her hungry. Finally, two slices in, she wiped her fingers on a napkin and looked at me.

“So,” she said. “Is now a good time to tell me why you and Tom have this weird little war going on?”

I swallowed a mouthful of cheese pizza and felt it travel in a hard ball down my throat. I’d rather not talk about Tom, but I supposed she deserved the truth. I put the slice of pizza down. “How much do you know about our history?”

“Not much,” she replied. “You used to both work for my dad, but after he died, you left the firm and struck out on your own. I get the feeling Tom may have driven you out.”

“He did, but our issues go way further back than that. Did you know Tom and I went to high school together?”

“I thought you might have—I knew you’d gotten a scholarship to a good school, but I wasn’t certain which one.”

“Horton Academy,” I confirmed. “I worked my ass off in elementary school for that scholarship. But when I got there, Tom bullied me relentlessly.”

“Why would he do that?”

I gave her a look. “Why does any bully do anything? It makes them feel good. I was an easy target because Mom and I were dirt-poor. I never knew my father, and Mom had a job, but it didn’t pay well. Some weeks she had to turn tricks to keep food in our stomachs.”