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Elsa. Again.
Asher leaned over Gio, plucked my phone from my hand, and answered.
“Most women are capable of taking hints, but you’re a special breed of desperate, aren’t you, Elsa?” My lips tilted up in a ghost of a smile until Asher’s eyes widened, and he said, “Oh. Hey, kiddo. Thought you were your mom. Yeah, he’s right here. I’ll hand the phone to him.”
I’d already stood and pried the phone from his fingers before I dipped into my office.
“Everett? Is something wrong?”
“Mom’s gone again.”
My fist nearly met the wall until I reeled it back.
“Again? What do you mean again?”
“She left yesterday and didn’t come back.”
“Who are you with right now?”
“Nancy.”
His nanny.
I trusted her. Vetted her myself.
Then again, I’d trusted Elsa at one point, too.
“I’m booking you a flight here.”
It slipped past my lips before I could take it back.
I couldn’t fly to Alabama. That was Andretti territory, and we were at war.
Everett couldn’t fly here either, because for his safety, no one outside my inner circle could know he existed. Not while he lived in Alabama.
Elsa didn’t know why, but she knew something stopped me from going to Alabama and taking Everett back. She dangled it in front of my nose each time she wanted more money from me.
Are you sure you want Everett in New York? It doesn’t seem like it.
That was all it took before another hundred grand popped into her bank account. She had the best bargaining chip in the world, and fuck that.
My son should not have been a bargaining chip.
Ever.
“Really?” The excitement in Everett’s voice was a blade to my heart. “I’m coming to New York? But I have school!”
I bit back the relief as I took my out, no matter how much I wanted to see him. I’d bet he’d grown since I’d last seen him.
“Right.” The apology in my voice couldn’t be clearer. I hated that I was having this conversation in the first place. “Maybe next time. We’ll convince your mom to fly you up here in your own jet. We can stay at your Uncle Vince’s house in the Hamptons and go to the beach every day.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” Fuck, I hoped I could keep it. “Now put Nancy on the phone, okay?”
A minute later, Nancy answered, her voice tired and aged. “Mr. Romano?”
“Where’s Elsa?”
