“Please, call me Roger. Devin tells me you’re an attorney?”
“That’s right.”
“What kind of law do you practice?”
“Litigation, at the moment. I’m a summer associate at Smith & Boone, but I’m hoping to stay on full-time in the fall.”
Widening his stance, he hooks his thumbs in his belt loops. “Smith & Boone is an excellent firm. They represent my business interests.”
“Your business is in good hands then. You’re a real estate developer, isn’t that right?”
“Founder and CEO of Szymanski Enterprises. We operate mostly on the south side of the city and specialize in residential development, but we’re in the process of expanding.”
“How exciting. I bet you love having your son back in town to help run things.”
Roger chuckles, and there’s a sour note to the sound that makes my scalp prickle. “Help out? Yes. Run things?” He grunts. “Devin’s coming along, but he has a long way to go if he wants to call the shots someday.”
Devin’s jaw tightens and his nostrils flare. “I don’t know, Dad. I secured those two hundred acres in Medina County last month for 10 percent less than the seller was originally willing to take. And I got zoning approval for our new apartment project in Ohio City.”
“Of course, you did, son,” he says, his tone the verbal equivalent of a head-pat. “But success takes time, and you haven’t developed that killer instinct yet.”
“Not like you, huh, Dad?” someone calls from behind Roger. When he turns to locate the source of the voice, Perry emerges from behind a knot of people gathered near the food. My heart leaps.
Seeing Perry and Devin standing next to their dad, it’s clear that Perry must take after his mother. He has the same jawline and lean, broad-shouldered build as his father and brother, but his features are softer, less sharp. His eyes, in particular, stand in stark contrast to Devin’s and Roger’s—and not just because theirs are a deep, rich brown, whereas his are clear emerald-hazel. There’s a lightness behind Perry’s eyes, a carefree amusement about the world that shines through every expression, like dandelion seeds dancing in the wind, whereas Devin’s and Roger’s piercing gazes are more like blown glass—smooth, solid, and untouchable.
Roger blinks. “Perry. You’re here.”
“I thought you said you weren’t coming,” says Devin.
Perry’s forearm muscles jump as he slides his hands into the front pockets of his shorts. “I figured it was high time I make another appearance at one of Dad’s famous Fourth of July parties. It’s been a few years, after all. Marcus,” he nods. “Cass.” Our gazes connect and a smile whispers across his lips.
“Brie.” She raises a hand in greeting.
Closing his mouth, Roger seems to recover himself. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s been too long.” He wraps Perry in an awkward one-armed hug and thumps him on the back with his fist. “How have you been?”
“Good. No complaints.”
“And the shop? How’s it going?”
Perry shifts his weight. “The shop’s great. I’ve expanded my inventory, and second-quarter sales are up. We’re doing better than ever.”
Roger clears his throat. “That’s not what Devin tells me.” Even though he lowers his voice, we all catch his words.
Perry glares at Devin, who shakes his head imperceptibly.
“The offer’s still on the table, Perry. Think about it. I can set you up, give you a chance to—”
Perry snorts. “Two minutes. I haven’t been here for two whole minutes, and you’re already doing what you always do. For the last time, the answer’s no. Good to see you, Dad. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab some food.” With an icy glance at Devin, he strides away.
“Perry, wait,” Devin calls. “Be right back,” he says to us before jogging after Perry.
“Roger!” A fortysomething blonde with shoulder-length hair beckons from a scrum of people gathered around a large red cooler about twenty feet away.
Roger waves back. Pasting on a tight smile, he returns his attention to Brie, Marcus, and me. “It was nice to meet you all. Please, help yourselves to whatever you’d like. And, Cass, I hope we have the chance to talk more soon. It’d be nice to get to know the woman my son is dating.” His voice is deep and even, like Devin’s, but his words hit me like the growl of a wolf. Because this man is a wolf, as cold, cunning, and calculating as one anyway—I’d bet my summer salary on it.