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“And you consider this a good use of your time?” Tillman goaded him further.

“Of course it’s a good use of my time,” Robbie said dismissively. “This is my family business. My family means everything to me.”

“Really?” Tillman said, eyeing Robbie like he was full of shit. “I thought you artists were all about the art. Isn’t that why your brothers are off on adventures and your mum is in Africa?”

“Itisall about the art,” Robbie said, far more of a war inside him, all of a sudden, than he expected. “This is art.” He gestured back to the wheel.

Tillman stared him dead in the eyes. “Throwing pots and making mugs for foreign tourists at your daddy’s house is your art?”

Robbie clenched his jaw and hugged himself tighter. “At least my family business isn’t making books or selling drugs on a street corner.”

He’d meant it as a joke, a dig, but the furious flush that tinted Tillman’s face and the way he pushed himself straighter, like he would once again flip Robbie the bird and walk off, told Robbie that he’d accidentally hit on some level of truth. He wondered whether it was the book making or the drugs.

“Fine,” Tillman said. “Hide away here at Hawthorne House for the rest of your life instead of making a name for yourself, like your brothers have. I don’t fucking care.”

The curse slipped out just as an incredibly wholesome family with far too many children walked passed. The mother glared at Tillman, and then Robbie, as if the word was Robbie’s fault.

“If you’re so determined to help our family, which I sincerely doubt, then do have a care not to offend the paying guests,” Robbie snapped.

“I absolutely intend to help your family,” Tillman said as if arguing he would do the exact opposite. “It’s my job. I’m damn good at my job.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Robbie said, taking a half step back and preparing to turn away. “You’re very good at meddling in people’s business and telling them what to do.”

“I bet you just love being told what to do,” Tillman said with heat in his voice and his eyes.

Robbie bumped into the corner of his work bench as he tried to turn away from the rush of conflicted emotions that flew at him. The moment of turmoil didn’t stop there either. If fencing with Tillman wasn’t bad enough, Keith chose just that moment to walk up to the workshop.

“Hey, Robbie,” Keith said, all smiles and perfect good looks. “You’re looking well.”

Every one of Robbie’s roiling, conflicted emotions focused on burning bitter anger…that he couldn’t do anything about.

“Hey, Keith,” he said, faking a delighted smile. He even walked around the end of the workshop counter so he could greet his ex with a hug.

The hug was a bad idea. Putting his arms around the man he’d shared so much with for so long brought back sense memories that had him instantly reeling. Keith’s body was so familiar. He knew everything about it, from the shape of his back to the scent of his skin.

Stepping away from Keith as the hug ended sent him straight back to the rejected, vulnerable place he’d only just managed to crawl out of in the last few weeks. With Tillman standing right there, watching everything with a calculating look, the timing of it all couldn’t have been worse.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Keith asked, turning his megawatt smile on Tillman.

Robbie’s anger turned to something much worse. He tried to swallow the jealousy as he said, “He’s not a friend. He’s an efficiency expert Dad hired to figure out ways Hawthorne House and the school can make more money.” The trouble was, he wasn’t sure who he was jealous of.

“It’s about time,” Keith said, offering his hand to Tillman. “I’m Keith Hornby, Robbie’s ex.”

“Toby Tillman,” Toby said with a far-too delighted smile. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Robbie’s went simultaneously hot and cold as the two men shook hands. Where did Tillman think he got off saying the pleasure was all his when no one had said anything about pleasure to begin with?

“I’m glad someone has finally stepped in to help the Hawthornes reach their full potential,” Keith went on. “I alwaysthought that so much more could be done with this estate. Isn’t that right, Robbie?”

Robbie had spent enough years with Keith to know what he was really saying. He thought Robbie himself could do better.

Ultimately, Keith was the one who thought he could do better. That’s why he was an ex.

“We’re brimming with ideas for the future,” he said, his false smile growing tighter.

It did not help the acid knot in the pit of his stomach when he caught Tillman’s assessing look. In fact, the way Tillman glanced between him and Keith said he had guessed at far more than met the eye.

“I came by to see the matinee performance of the play,” Keith said, shifting like he was ready to move on. “I brought John Piper with me. You remember John?”

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