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“All alone?” I asked. She smiled up at me, a cunning edge in her eye that told me she knew why I was asking. I felt a little thrill go through me. I loved how she stepped up to match my energy.
“Jen is working tonight so… All alone,” she confirmed. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too wide.
Before I could smoothly offer my company, Fabrizio turned and called to me. “Rich,” he said, “it’s time to go. If we wait much longer, the press will hound us.”
“The press’s gonna hound us anyway,” I scoffed, but I knew he was right. And as much fun as I was having flirting with Lauren, my dad deserved to take a long, hot shower and eat dinner with his family. “Duty calls,” I said to Lauren apologetically. She laughed.
“Well, you have my number in case of any other necessary calls,” she winked. My blood rushed. Fuck yes! “For now, I hope you have a good night. Enjoy being home with your father.”
“And you enjoy your extremely outdated movie,” I teased, walking backwards towards my family. Her mouth fell open.
“It’s a classic!” she gasped. I just laughed and turned around, joining my family as they got ready to leave.
My family, who had just seen all of that, were looking at me with varying degrees of teasing.
Ah, fuck.
“Don’t,” I hissed warningly, already feeling my cheeks heat into a painfully bright red. Please, please, please let them wait until Lauren was out of earshot before haranguing me over it. My mother just smirked.
“Oh now dear, why would we say anything to embarrass you?” she asked, voice so sugary sweet it could give a kid diabetes. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled in warning—that tone promised the kind of teasing that would carry on for years down the line. I’d be hearing about this moment for the rest of my days; I could already imagine her words at the table for the next three Thanksgivings, at least.
“I don’t know, maybe because you’re embarrassing?” I grumbled, quickly herding my family towards and out the doors and away from Lauren.
“Or maybe it’s sus that you get your dad out of prison and immediately start eyefucking the cute lawyer,” Fabrizio grinned. I smacked the back of his head lightly.
“If you think that was eyefucking then you are one vanilla motherfucker.”
“Hey!” Mom and dad both laughed while Selene scrunched her nose up in disgust, just in time for us to step out of the courthouse and onto the steps of the building where the vultures were waiting. I hoped their snapping cameras caught the undignified look on her face so I could show it to her later and watch her melt out of mortification.
“Marino!” one reporter called, “Mr. Marino! Can you spare a moment for a statement?”
“Mr. Marino, what was your experience like in prison?”
“How did you get a trial so quickly? Did you pay someone off?”
“Mrs. Marino, were you worried about your husband?”
“To Richard Marino, how did you find an unknown attorney, and why did you take the risk of hiring her?”
Dad put on his media smile, but I wasn’t about to stand for that. He was tired and traumatized—and I didn’t think that was an exaggeration. People would claim he’d only been in his cell for a week and a half, but I’d only spent two weeks with my kidnappers, and no one had ever questioned whether or not I had trauma from it. I was more than willing to throw that in the face of any bastard who dared to bring it up.
“Please back up,” I called into the small crowd, using my bodyguard voice. “None of us will be taking statements today. My father is tired, and my family deserves to go home and heal. Thank you.” My mom threaded her hand into mine as I walked ahead of them, easily and calmly clearing a walking path to our idling car. I glanced back, and she smiled at me, pride in every crease of her beautiful face. I smiled back. I was proud of her, too.
Luckily, the reporters weren’t dumb enough to try to get in our way, too harass Chicago’s most dangerous man, and within moments, two more bodyguards had gotten out of the back seat and were helping me with what little crowd control was necessary. There weren’t actually many news outlets camped outside the courthouse to begin with, since everyone assumed this was going to be a long, multi-day trial, so we avoided the chaos of mob mentality.
The door shut on the dull roar of the small crowd, and immediately, Arthur was turning around in the driver’s seat. “Welcome back, Don Marino,” he said, bowing his head. “I’m glad to see you in one piece.” Dad smiled wryly at him.
“Whole, healthy, and in desperate need of a real shower,” he joked. Arthur’s lips turned up a little. He wasn’t an expressive guy, so even the smallest changes in his face let us know how glad he was to have Dad back.
“I’ll take you straight home, sir,” he said, turning back to the wheel.
“Actually, I want to go to the convenience store,” he said, surprising us all. “I want to pay my dad and Sandro a visit, and it’s only right to bring them flowers.” My heart twinged. While my grandpa had died a long time ago, Sandro’s death was still just a year old—fresh and oozing, barely even scabbed. He had been my father’s former consigliere, a lifelong friend and confidant of first grandpa then dad, and until a year ago, he had been like an uncle to me and my siblings. He’d been there for us growing up, and losing him was devastating.
Dad was right, we should visit them both. It wasn’t a full celebration without them.
Chapter Sixteen
RICHARD
