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“I’m in,” Farrellsaid.
Nico nodded. “Good. We’ll talk to Christophe when hearrives.”
The girls had grown quiet, huddled on the stairs of the pool, shivering even as they whispered the kinds of secrets only children share. He and Nico would have to get them out of the pool soon, hopefully before they gothypothermia.
He was reaching for Lily’s towel when he heard a door slam inside thehouse.
“Sounds like they’re back,” Nicosaid.
Farrell stood. “I’ll see if they need help.” He walked to the edge of the pool. “Time to get out, love. Mummy’shome.”
“You go,” Nico said. “I’ll get the girls and try to thaw them out so you and I aren’t in the dog housetonight.”
Farrell handed him Lily’s towel and headed into thehouse.
He opened the glass doors off the great room and closed them behind him. He’d almost rounded the corner to the kitchen when Jenna’s voice stopped him in histracks.
“It’s still scary sometimes though, isn’t it?” Jennaasked.
Farrell paused in the great room as Angelanswered.
“I don’t really think about it anymore,” Angel said. “Doyou?”
He felt like an asshole listening in, but his feet were rooted to the floor, his breath stuck in histhroat.
“Sometimes.” There was a rustling in the kitchen, the opening and closing of the fridge. “It’s hard not to when your house is surrounded byguards.”
Angel laughed a little. “I’d rather the guards than anyone else who might comearound.”
“True,” Jenna said. There was a long pause, the slam of a cupboard. “Do you think the girlsnotice?”
“The girls don’t think twice about it. Kids don’t question their environment, not at this age anyway. They’re resilient. They get used to whatever’s part of their dailylandscape.”
Farrell had no doubt the answer was meant to comfortJenna.
He also knew it would do no suchthing.
She’d gotten used to her daily landscape as a child. Had gotten used to covering for a drunk mother, to watching the defeat in her father’seyes.
She didn’t want Lily to “get used” to something, and while Jenna worked tirelessly to be the kind of mother she hadn’t had, there was no changing the volatility of Farrell’sbusiness.
“That’s not always a good thing,” Jennasaid.
Farrell heard the wistfulness in Jenna’s voice and backed away from the kitchen. He shouldn’t have been listening. Jenna was entitled to a private conversation with a friend, was entitled to vent her feelings without thinking about how it would impacthim.
He opened the door to the courtyard and stepped outside, shutting it quietly behind him. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he felt the velvet box for the hundredth time, imagined the ring insideit.
He tried to see it on Jenna’s finger, but it suddenly wasn’t as easy as it had been even a weekearlier.
