Page 42 of The Wrong Move

The building entrance is through rotating glass doors opening to an all-marble foyer. Franklin resides here during the week, then on weekends he and Penny stay at their beachside house.

Inside the equally fancy elevator with brass panels, I punch in the code for the penthouse.

A baby.

The sliding doors open, and I pass the security camera. A guard stands outside the door of Franklin’s penthouse. It seems Franklin isn’t taking any chances.

“Hi. I’m Byron, Franklin’s brother.”

“I know who you are, sir.” He stands aside and allows me to pass. I punch in another code and push open the massive double doors almost twice my height.

My mother is in the kitchen. She smiles the moment she sees me. “Byron.” She gives me a tight hug.

I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “What’s with the extra security?”

“You know your brother. He won’t miss an opportunity to protect those he loves.” She holds my shoulders and leans back to assess me, her broad smile meeting her blue eyes. “I’m glad you came. Come and meet Summer.”

“Summer? I thought they’d choose a traditional name.”

Mom’s lips purse. “Darling, maybe keep that opinion to yourself. Your brother is very touchy at the moment. His protectiveness is off the chart.” She leans in and hugs me again.

I pat her back. Mom has always been the hugger in the family. I’m smiling at how she described my brother. “And you’re surprised by this?”

“Not surprised, just considerate with my words.” She leans back. “You look well. And for the record…” she whispers, “… I thought Caroline a more suitable name.” She winks at me. “How is Giana?”

“Good. I asked her to come, but she didn’t want to intrude on the family.”

Mom pauses. “While I always welcome your friends, your brother is only allowing immediate family to visit. He is stressed already, and for God’s sake, if you hold Summer,do notkiss her.”

“I’ll do my best not to breathe.”

Mom grins and continues making iced tea. “Please go and wash your hands before we go upstairs.”

“But I—” She gives me one of her looks. I head to the restroom, all black and white marble, and return to the kitchen. “Okay. Let me help you.” I follow her up the curved staircase, carrying the glasses. “Where is his housekeeper?”

Mom turns and tilts her head, looking for understanding. “It was Franklin’s decision to have minimal people in the house. Sally comes in for three hours in the morning to prepare some meals. Ingrid comes once a week to clean. They have hired two nurses to stay around the clock so Penny and the baby could be discharged early and be home with Frank, but Penny insists on doing everything for Summer at this stage. They’re completely besotted, and who can blame them.”

“I was wondering about her being home this soon, and I’m beginning to understand what you mean by Frank’s stress levels. He’s a little over the top.”

“He’ll do what is best for his family. And he wanted his wife and baby home with him, not risking catching germs in some maternity ward, private or not.”

“I thought that would be the least likely place to catch anything?”

She holds my gaze a moment longer. She has the same eyes as Charlotte and me. Franklin and Jobe have our father’s dark brown eyes.

“Please don’t antagonize your brother. Not today.”

I follow her into a large formal room where the family has gathered. A bassinette is near Frank’s chair. Frank’s three-level penthouse is impressive, and if city living ever appealed to me, it would only if I could live here.

“Congratulations,” I say and walk toward Frank to shake his hand.

He points to a door on the side. “Thanks, Byron. Would you mind washing your hands?”

I open my mouth to comment.

“He washed his hands right before we came up, darling,” Mom interjects.

Frank stands, shakes my hand, pulls me in for a hug, and pats my back three times. My brother is never this affectionate.

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