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Molly titters, laughing. “Looks like a little friction in the marriage,” she says, nudging her husband. “Sounds like we were.”
“You’re young still,” he says, waving at Fiona. “You don’t need to rush, but I will tell you. Children change your life. They change it in more ways you ever dreamed possible. No matter how much you understand that intellectually, you won’t experience it until it happens.”
“Can I ask you an honest question?” Fiona glances at me. I can tell she’s nervous, but our conversation from earlier plays through my head. I give her a little nod, deciding to trust her.
Trust doesn’t come easy for me, but I have to take the leap.
“Go ahead,” Orin says softly. “Ask away.”
“Is it all bad?” she asks, then quickly follows up before they can answer. “It’s just that, whenever I hear parents talk about their kids, it’s always to complain about how hard it is. Kids can’t be all awful, right?”
Orin glances at Molly. They exchange a knowing smile. “No, dear, it’s not all bad,” he says. “It’s easy to talk about the hard things. The good things are more difficult to quantify.”
“Like what?” Fiona asks. The sun’s setting. Purple and orange light cuts through the clouds. I breathe the salty air and watch Fiona, my fake wife. She looks so damn vulnerable right now. Some part of me is aware she’s getting parenting tips from a mobster, but I’m too fascinated by the whole interaction to stop it.
I want to know what she thinks about having a family. She told me about her own complicated relationship with her parents—and I want her to talk about how that plays into her own views on parenting. I want everything from her, every crumb, every truth.
Orin strokes his chin before answering. “Well, there’s your oldest waking you up in the morning, only to climb into bed and snuggle against you. There are the hugs. The laughter. God, they’re so damn funny.” Orin glances away, eyes going far-off. “Other things. Watching them grow. Watching them learn and become men. I’m proud of my boys, even if I don’t always agree with their choices. That’s the hardest lesson I learned. You can’t control them. You can only try to guide them. It feels so good when they succeed. It kills when they fail, too, but that’s all part of life.”
“They’re also very cute when they’re little,” Molly adds, grinning. She ruffles her husband’s hair. The gangster lord, Orin Crowley. Apparently, he’s a big softie. “My husband can get sentimental sometimes, but he’s right. The good things are all very intangible.”
“I just want to love them,” Fiona blurts out. Her cheeks turn red. “I mean, I don’t want to mess them up, you know? I want to do right.”
“Then you will,” Molly says. “God, look at these two, Orin. Newlyweds on the precipice of starting a family. Were we ever that young?”
“Can’t imagine we were,” Orin says. He lets out a dramatic sigh. “But I believe dinner is nearly ready. Why don’t you ladies head on inside and let me have a word with Gareth?”
Fiona slips away from me. I wish she wouldn’t. I want to pull her back, hold her hand. The vulnerability she just showed, her worry and uncertainty, it lit a fire inside of me.
The thought of her as a mother. The idea of having a family—
It scares the hell out of me.
But for the first time, I met a woman that I could picture by my side.
How did I let things get so complicated? Why couldn’t I have seen this before?
But I can’t let myself fantasize. There are strict limits to our fake marriage, and I’m pretty sure kids are way,wayoff the table.
Still, it’s tempting. The thought of having someone there with me through all the pain and struggle—
Fuck, I wish I never signed that contract.
Molly whisks Fiona away, leaving me alone with Orin. I lean back against the railing while I finish my drink, sloshing ice around the glass. He eyes me for a moment before producing two cigars.
We light up and puff away. “If you decide to join our family, there will be some rules,” he says softly, staring off toward the ocean, his face almost beatific as if he weren’t talking about his criminal organization. “We’d expect certain things. Discretion. Loyalty. Above and beyond what you provide to other clients.”
“I can promise complete discretion and loyalty. However, if you’re ever pulled into in a proceeding that involved another one of my clients, I will have to recuse myself. I can’t represent you above their interests, and I wouldn’t do that to you, either. It’s not a likely scenario, but I want to be clear.”
He tilts his head, considering, before grinning. “Spoken like a true lawyer. But fine, if that’s how it needs to be.” He squeezes my shoulder, directing me back toward the house. “There’s only the small matter of access.”
“Access?” My eyebrows raise.
“You’re based in Dallas. That’s not going to work for me.”
“I assure you, I can practice law in nearly every state—”
“That’s not what I mean.” He glances through the window to where Fiona sits with Molly at the table. “If I need you, I need youimmediately. Not in a few hours, not after a plane lands. But right away.”
