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The Bugatti—the car I wanted forever—is now stained with memories of Da.
I turn toward Tynan. "I don't need the Bugatti anymore. Go ahead and sell it."
His eyes widen. "Why would we sell it?"
"I don't need it. Just sell it."
"Princess, I'm not selling your Bugatti. It's custom-made with everything in it. I didn't leave any bells or whistles out."
"I know, but—"
"No way. You're not going to let your da spoil your car. You wanted that car."
"It's fine. I don't need it," I insist.
"Ya might've tricked me on how ya got it, but ya love that car."
"I didn't trick ya," I claim.
He arches his eyebrows. "Is that your story that you're sticking to?"
A bit of guilt fills me. "Okay. I might've tricked ya. But ya deserved it."
He chuckles. "Aye. I never said I didn't deserve it. And I actually respected ya more that day because of how much ya tricked me."
"Ya did?" I question.
"Aye. I thought, I have a really smart wife. But I already knew ya were."
"You think I'm smart?"
"Aye. Of course you're smart," he states, as if it's a silly question. He rises and holds his hand out. "Let's go for that ride."
"Don't ya want to finish your breakfast?"
"We've got lots of food in this house. I can eat when we get back. Come on, let's go for the ride we talked about," he says.
I cautiously get up and let him lead me out of the house, still unsure how I feel about it.
He opens the driver's door and motions, "Slide on in, princess."
"It's okay. You can drive."
"No. You're driving."
"No. Honestly, it's fine. You can drive," I state again.
"Maeve, get in the car. You're driving." He gives me a challenging look.
I finally cave and slide into the car. I have to admit that the leather is the most luxurious thing I've ever felt.
He opens the passenger door and slides in. His eyes twinkle, and he orders, "Well, baby girl, rev that engine. If you're going to do it, ya better do it right."
I laugh. "Are you serious right now?"
He grins. "Hell yeah. Let everybody know that the Bugatti is here."
I laugh. "You're crazy."
