Page 4 of The Logic of Loyalty

She gives me her signature soft smile. “Yeah. I’ll tell you when we’re all at home.”

I smack a kiss on her lips and head to the door. “I love you, son. I love you, my world.”

“Wuva ad!” Jacob says with a still-full mouth.

“I love you, my star,” my world says back to me.

Chapter Two

TREVOR

“Welcome back, Trevor,” Krista chirps from her desk as soon as I enter the bank offices.

“Krista, hey.” I place my uneaten sandwich in front of her. “Put this in the fridge, please. I gotta rush.” She bounces up and hurries after me, the remnants of her sandwich still at her desk. “Was there anything wrong with your order?”

“No, sir.”

Damn. I thought maybe I gave her Paige’s sandwich. I need to check the receipt.

When I don’t say anything more, she continues. “They’re in the conference room. I didn’t think you’d want them waiting in the lobby where you-know-who might see them, or in your office without you there.” She manages to say this all in one breath while keeping pace with me.

I fight my amusement, but it still manages to come out. “Slow your roll, Krista,” I say with an attempt at a lighthearted tone. Her lips curve up into a smile, but it fades quickly. An obvious, nervous energy radiates out from her.

“Sorry. I just know your lunch got cut short, and I feel bad.” Her voice trails off, and I stop and pivot toward her. Our parents have been friends since we were young, and Krista has been friends with my younger sister since they were in diapers. She’s only a few years younger than me, but right now, it feels like a lot more.

Personally, I’ll always view her as the little girl chasing my friends and me through the fields behind our houses with my little sister trailing closely behind. Now, she’s a young woman, but only a few weeks into her new position. Does she know anyone else here besides my father and me? I’m filled with a sudden surge of guilt at the distance I’ve put in place. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Shit happens. I’ll handle everything just fine.”

The stress melts from her features, and satisfaction fills me at the results of my words.

Good. Moving on.

I approach the conference room with an apology on my lips when I run into my father. Shit. “Richard.”

Ever since he had me work summers as a temp in early high school, Richard has always made it clear that he is not Dad here. I was fourteen and completely lost about where one of the tellers needed me to go when I, naively, was happy to see my father in the hallway.

“Dad, thank God⁠—”

“William, I am your employer in this office. Nothing more, nothing less. My name is Richard or Mr. Whitaker. I’m too busy for this right now.” Then he brushes past me, continuing down the hall without a backward look.

I can’t remember anything else about that summer, but the dressing-down in front of all the other employees stuck with me. I recognize now that was his goal.

His impatient response shakes me out of my memory. “William, I have a meeting with a potential client in ten minutes. Get your shit together and your clients into your own office.” He shakes his head with his ever-present disappointment. “If you’re not going to use it, I’m sure plenty of other employees would be happy to fill your spot.”

“Yessir, I understand. I’m getting them now.” I need them in my office before they say anything about what their meeting is for.

I breeze into the room and make a beeline for the matriarch and patriarch of the Mendez family. The shorter man and even smaller wife greet me with warmth. “Señor and Señora Mendez.” I reach out and shake their hands in turn. “I apologize for the wait.” I hurry before they can say anything. “Please follow me to my office, where we can speak on this matter privately.”

They both nod, their dark hair lightly speckled with grey. Avoiding eye contact with the others around the bank, I guide them without further delay. Once the door is closed behind them, I pull out the folder marked M.R. Loan and lay it on the desk in front of them.

“Now, about that loan.”

My car comes to a stop in front of my beautiful home. We live in a five-bedroom country house with a covered front porch overlooking our neighbor’s farm and a back porch that leads to our fenced yard. There is a trampoline, a swing set, and mismatching odds and ends that have made my son’s childhood a good one—a happy one.

Once the car is off, the engine cools, and I sit back and let my stress and anxiety from the workplace melt away. For the most part, Krista was able to run interference with my father, but I still managed to catch the blame for mistakes made by Bobby and my father. Breathe in the peace, and breathe out the poison.

The rattle of my peppermint container fills the quiet space as I shake a piece out and pop it into my mouth. Through the front window, I see my son on the couch, and I imagine Paige either sitting with him or possibly cooking our family dinner. This knowledge of what and who are waiting for me inside reminds me—for the millionth time—why I’m doing it all. I would give everything for my family.

With a sigh, I step out of the Camaro and walk past the Subaru and our old Suburban—the first happy sacrifice I made as a father.