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In the next ten minutes, Emberly packs up her portable art kit, and I direct her around the side of the house and into the garage, where I’ve parked the 1965 silver Mercedes Cabriolet.
As I place her things in the back seat, she gazes at the convertible with a frown. “It’s not bulletproof.”
“That shit with the police is over.” I gather her in my arms and place a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Let’s turn this into another date. I can take you for dinner after. Anywhere you want.”
The smile she gives me is dazzling. “Let’s do it.”
I rush around to the passenger side and open the door.
“You look dazzling, baby,” I murmur as she slips into the seat.
“Ugh. I don’t feel it,” she mutters.
My heart skips a beat.
Morning sickness?
“Do you need anything for the journey?” I ask, my brows pulling together. “Water, crackers, ginger tea?”
She shakes her head. “I had a tuna melt at the coffee shop. Let’s get going.”
I drive her through the garage, out of the estate and down the winding road. The afternoon sun sets the skies ablaze and bathes Emberly in its warm light. She closes her eyes and smiles, letting the wind blow through her curls. She has never looked so radiant.
“Nice car,” she murmurs.
“My dad acquired it at the casino,” I reply with a laugh.
“What does that mean?”
“One of the customers couldn’t pay their debts and offered it up as a form of payment.”
“That must have been some debt,” she mutters.
I chuckle. “It was a rust bucket, but Dad saw its potential. We spent months working on it together.” Nostalgia thaws my heart, and I sigh. “It’s one of the fondest memories I had of him before he died.”
Emberly turns to me, her gaze warming the side of my face. “What was he like?”
I shake my head. “After he died and I was locked up, I used to think he was weak. Dad put too much trust in his friends and wanted us to have college educations instead of going straight into the family business. He should have kept us close instead of relying on outsiders.”
“It sounds like he wanted you to have a better future.”
My throat thickens with regret. “Things might have worked out differently if he’d brought us into the business much earlier.”
“What do you think of him now?”
“Flawed. Unfocussed,” I say, my voice tightening. “He placed his feelings before the family legacy.”
“And you never want to be like that?” she asks.
“He was a hedonist,” I reply. “That made him a fun dad, a great host, and the life of the party, but where did that get him?”
She doesn’t reply, so I continue. “He cared more about pleasing himself than securing the family’s future. That attitude almost broke us apart.”
Emberly reaches over to squeeze my hand. “It’s not too late to make things right.”
She’s too much of an optimist. No amount of money can compensate for the five years I spent on death row or for the upheaval to my brothers’ lives. We fall silent as we reach the bottom of Alderney Hill, and Emberly directs me through the back streets into an upscale neighborhood of townhouses.
“Are you sure this is the place?” I ask.
