A couple of hours later, Yael strode into Malkah Enterprises armed with her father's files tucked under one arm and a spring in her step. Most of the buildings he had earmarked were no longer available or had already been razed in favor of a more modern structure, but Yael found one in Midtown that would serve as a perfect starting point. She'd detoured past it on the way to the office.

It was an old, three-story brick corner building, originally the headquarters of a small newspaper no longer in circulation. According to her research, the first two floors had been used for printing, and the topmost boasted offices and apartments. Since then, it had housed numerous businesses and tenants, but none of the owners put any maintenance into it, and the beautiful building had fallen into disrepair. Renovating was going to be the biggest challenge, along with relocating the lingering renters. She needed to track down the current owners because it was for sale as luck would have it.

Signing in, she spotted Casey entering through the doors on the west side of the building and pursed her lips. Might as well get the confrontation with Mr. I-Know-Everything out of the way. Yael squared her shoulders and followed him to the elevator. As she stepped in, Casey leaned against the wall, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers, and watched her. His brown eyes twinkled with humor, but she knew better. A self-righteous ass existed under the impeccable charcoal suit, one she, unfortunately, had to play nice with, or sort of nice.

"You must still be on California time. Here, the workday usually starts before one in the afternoon."

"Thanks for the info." She fought the urge to kick him in the shin or ask if he'd been out stealing lollipops from babies. "Actually, I spent the morning with my grandmother and going through my father's home office." His gaze left her face and landed on the files she held in her arms.

"Yeah, Miriam called a bit ago to tell me you had an idea, a project your father concocted before he died."

Catching the respectful way Casey said her grandmother's name brought to mind Dorota's remark the first day. Curiosity won over annoyance. "Are you one of the colleagues who visits her?"

His lip twitched. "Why? Do you find it surprising?"

"Since you seem to hold so much stock in preconceived notions, do you blame me? Am I to assume you're always as charming as you were yesterday?"

"Count on it." He eyed the files again, sounding more amused than rude. "And do you really think you can waltz in here and do whatever the hell you want?"

"You forget I interned with the company for three years. I realize it was a while ago, but I do remember how this company works. All I'm asking for is a chance before you write me off as the black sheep." Patience vanished, and she held up a hand in frustration. "No, forget I said that. I don't need to ask you for anything."

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened and, refusing to wait for his snide comeback, she strode out, past reception and into Peter's office, her arms quivering with tension. Her grandmother said she would need Casey on her side. That should be interesting.

Peter was at his desk speaking with Doug Moore, another board member and head of Malkah Enterprises's manufacturing division.

"Look who it is. I heard a rumor you returned to us." Doug took a moment to kiss Yael on the cheek. Although a commanding figure in his dark suit, she didn't recall his receding hair being silver or the perfectly unlined forehead beneath, hinting at cosmetic enhancement. "It really is nice to see you in this building. Feels right, somehow."

"Thanks, Doug. Not sure if I'm here on a permanent basis yet or not, but I decided to give it a shot." She was touched to find someone else who appeared pleased by her presence, and, as he beamed at her, she gave him a coy smile. "In fact, I have a task I'd like to work on, to ease back in."

Their intrigued expressions encouraged her, so she detailed the idea while pacing off her nervous energy. It might not have come across as confident, but her insides were bound up in knots, and movement helped ease them.

"I can get in touch with my buddies in the city offices and gather info on the building," Doug said, flashing his freakishly white teeth. "If we make the owners an all-cash offer, we could avoid a lengthy closing."

"I'm more than happy to help too, Yael," Peter added softly. "I just hope you aren't taking on more than you need to right now, especially with Miriam's illness. There'll be plenty of chances for work later. Concentrate on your family."

His hesitancy deflated her a bit, and embarrassment crept into her cheeks. Didn't he think she could do it? She assumed he'd be all over this. It would be his department that benefited from the publicity and success.

Casting the doubt aside, she said, "I appreciate your concern, but it's important for me to contribute."

"Your grandmother needs you," he pushed.

"Oh, come on, Pete," Doug interjected. "The girl belongs here. We're her family just as much as Miriam. It'll do her good."

Yael flashed Doug a grateful smile. "Thank you. Besides, she is the one who suggested I reacquaint myself. I'm not asking to take over an entire division. It's a small undertaking. I can handle it." She rushed on before Peter could object again. "This is a win-win. The first step would be to purchase the building permits, then find a contractor to work with and an architect to map the layout. Is there an empty office I can use?"

"There is, down the hall from me." Pressing his lips into a thin line, Peter stood. "I'll show you."

"I'll leave you to it, then. It'll be wonderful to see you around here again, Yael," Doug said as he departed.

Peter led her down familiar halls and past a surprising amount of unfamiliar faces, saying, "This used to be Casey's before he moved into Miriam's." He paused at the door of the unused room. "I hope you don't mistake my caution, Yael. I'm concerned you're pushing yourself too far. Casey will be waiting for you to slip up, to show a weakness he can expose. He's a shrewd man who realizes you were groomed from an early age to one day take over for Michael. That won't sit well with him, and he won't appreciate you showing up as if years haven't passed."

Her brows knitted together in confusion. Earlier, in the elevator, she'd gotten the sense Casey was more of a smartass than anything vindictive. "But you said he wasn't that bad. Lazy and annoying."

"And there is the spin." He glanced around uneasily. "Don't trust him. He's not right for this company and sooner or later he'll screw up. I guarantee it." Peter straightened, doing a one-eighty. "Let me grab some office supplies for you. I'll be a couple minutes."

Yael sat woodenly behind the generic oak desk. Now that she was here, her rash decision terrified her, and she wondered what she'd inserted herself into the middle of. Sure, what Casey had said during their initial meeting was uncalled for, but she didn't sense anything malicious from him, despite Peter's warning. Of course, it didn't mean she planned to go out of her way to seek his approval. He'd come sniffing around once she got the ball rolling, of that much she was sure, and she vowed to be ready. Miriam trusted him. That said a lot, his charming personality aside.

Rising to her feet, she drifted down the hall to an expansive corner office, pulled by an invisible force. She knew the route by heart, how many rooms and supply closets were along the way, where the bulletin board used to be, dotted with significant announcements. New carpet lined the path, no longer buckling and threatening to trip her.

She stopped outside the doors, lifted a hand, and placed it on the wood, wondering what lay beyond. It was cold to the touch, or it might have been her imagination; she wasn't sure which. Her father always kept the doors open, arguing it was easier to communicate with Margaret, his long-time assistant, across the hall, but Yael believed it was so he could be more accessible to his employees. That was the kind of leader he was, the kind she aspired to be once upon a time.

A part of her wanted to find her mother's old office, but that was different, more intimidating. Michael Malkah had been a loving father, larger than life, but nothing compared to the relationship she'd held with her mom, Hannah. They were confidantes, partners in crime, best friends who always found a way to keep their weekly lunches. She wasn't ready to confront that emptiness, not on the same day.

During her lowest times, she heard both their voices in her head. Her dad's when she scolded herself for where her life ended up, and her mom's when she needed soothing when the hurts were too terrible to bear. Being in the place they worked brought the ghosts to life and left her emptier than she wanted to admit.

Her mind wandered to a memory of her first day as an intern. She'd stood in the middle of this office, on uncharacteristically shaky knees, and let her dad's hard stare intimidate her.

"Don't expect to be treated any different while you're here," he'd said. "You'll have a hard enough time from the other interns because of who you are, but your last name does not equal a free ride, so work your ass off. Respect is everything in this business." He rose from the desk, long and lean and draped in an expensive suit, and approached her. "Start from the bottom, learn everything you can about Malkah Enterprises from the ground up. That's what my father ordered me to do and it made me stronger."

Then, he had yanked her into a hug, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm proud of you, sweet pea," he had whispered in her ear.

Climbing out of the memory, Yael patted her hair, swearing she felt it move from his breath.

"Believe it or not, his office is still empty, sort of an unspoken understanding among all of us who knew him. I can rarely bring myself to go in there."

Peter's voice scattered the wispy tendrils of the past, and she jumped, snatching her hand from the wood. She turned to face him, surprised. "Even after so long? It doesn't seem right."

His dark eyes focused on the doors. "Many of us who have worked here for years continue to honor your father and mother. We won't let them use this space. It's hallowed ground."

Personally, she found it strange. Life moved on. Her father would have understood someone using his office. To keep it locked up, as Miriam did with the study, struck her as sad and pointless. Maybe she wasn't the only one with unhealed scars.

Peter surfaced from his reverie. "Come on, I have folders and pens to get you started and I called tech about setting up your password for the computer." He touched her shoulder. "Despite my concerns, it's good to have you home."

She followed, the vastness of her father's vacant office pushing from behind. It couldn't stay that way. Not if she was expected to remain sane while working here.