Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Would it be pity or scorn that his presence evoked at the party?

Anthony Davidson glanced at the two-story house his brother had bought four years ago and was hoping to keep in the divorce. No doubt Hayden was mortgaged to the hilt.

Out of habit, Anthony did the sums and worked out ways to pay the imagined mortgage off faster. Finances still fascinated him even though he wasn’t able, wasn’t allowed, to have anything to do with other people’s money anymore.

“You haven’t seen anyone since you got out. You need to be seen, and I’m sure you’ll recognize some of these people.” His sister put her arm through his. He hadn’t spoken to his brother in ten years, or any of the people who’d be at the party, but Margot had dragged him along because they were family, as though that explained everything.

That didn’t explain why his brother had chosen not to see him. It wasn’t as though Anthony had been in hiding or on the run. He’d been locked up with nowhere to go and nothing to do, but few people from his old life wanted to dirty their shoes and visit him while he was in prison.

They didn’t want him messing up their nice white carpet now that he was out.

And he definitely didn’t want to be here .

The familiar heat of anxiety washed over him, prickled under his arms and up his throat. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

He couldn’t.

He fought for breath and loosened his tie, hoping to ease the choking sensation. Margot had kept some of his old clothes—the court hadn’t stripped him bare, but it had taken everything else. His designer suits, Italian leather shoes, and the watch worth more than a small car were still his. The uniform of success. Now the suit was tight across his shoulders and the pants were loose. He’d been soft ten years ago and only concerned with the trades and parties and getting laid.

Ten years of nothing to do but study and exercise had changed him, and he wasn’t sure it was for the better.

He pulled his arm free of his sister’s grip as nausea rose and panic swamped him. These sensations were far too familiar. They’d been his companion for most of the last decade. He sucked in a breath. This wasn’t a prison yard, and besides, he’d once loved parties. He’d always known what to say and when to say it. People liked him, or at least they’d pretended to. In prison, he’d learned fast to keep his mouth shut and his eyes down to avoid being drawn into a fight.

“Don’t be silly. You’ve missed too many birthdays. I’m sure Hayden will be glad to see you.”

Did Margot really think he didn’t realize what he’d missed out on?

He was thirty-six. He’d lost a decade—well, nine and a half years if he counted, which he did to the day: three thousand, four hundred, and sixty-nine of them. So many wasted days and missed events. But even if he hadn’t been in prison, Anthony doubted Hayden would’ve invited him to many parties. They’d never been close.

They were rivals.

“Hayden hates me.” Why did he agree to come? Because Margot was the only member of his family not to cut him off. “Have him over for dinner if you must.”

At least then they’d be in private.

“You are brothers. He doesn’t hate you.” She smiled as though he was being childish. Perhaps he was. They were both well and truly adults. They should be able to get along, but they’d gotten through life by competing and never giving an inch. “Besides, this will be more fun than dinner at my place. He’s hired waiters and everything.”

Anthony glanced at his sister. If not for her, he’d be living in some crappy apartment trying to scrape by on welfare. Her support was one reason he’d been able to get out early. He had family support and remorse and other things the parole board liked to hear. He regretted getting caught, but he fit into his old life about the same way he fit into his old suit.

He’d buy new suits once he’d found a new job. This was just a setback, a stumble over a pebble the size of Everest.

Margot grabbed his arm, firm enough that if he tried to pull away there’d be a scene, and he didn’t want the attention. “Come on.”

She led him up the path toward the door. The dread grew. He wanted to walk back to the car and wait there, but because he didn’t have a license, he couldn’t drive back to her house. He didn’t even have a home. He shoved that thought aside. If he didn’t find a way off the track, his anxiety was spinning, he’d spiral into a panic attack, and he refused to have another one in front of his sister or give Hayden the satisfaction of seeing him so broken.

“Margot, wait.” He needed a moment.

She sighed, but paused.

Anthony swallowed and straightened his shoulders. She was a doctor, and he was sure that tonight was some kind of test to observe him further. He concentrated on the sounds around him and the soft scent of the garden. Frangipani lingered in the warm air. Music drifted out of the house, and cars growled in the background. If the night were still enough, he’d hear the waves hitting the beach. He drew in a breath, then another. Each one growing easier.

“Okay,” he sighed.. “I’m fine.” He’d rebuild his life, and soon it would be as if nothing had derailed him. He had a parole officer, a shrink, and a social worker to help him adjust to life on the outside. He could do this.

He’d just rather walk back into prison than his brother’s party.