He doesn’t return my smile.
“Look, you don’t have to worry about my intentions. All I want to do is to love and protect Georgina, for as long as she’ll have me. You asked Georgina to swear on her mother. Well, for me, my most sacred promise is on my nephew. I swear on him, Mr. Ricci, that I love Georgina and my intentions are honorable.”
Mr. Ricci remains quiet for a moment, until, finally, he smiles and says, “Marco. Call me Marco.”
My heart leaps. “Thank you. But if it’s okay with you, I’d prefer to call you ‘Dad.’”
Marco can’t help himself. He chuckles. So, I chuckle, too. And, just like that, we’re both laughing, and all tension between us is gone.
“Do you have any questions of me, Marco? Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”
Marco shakes his head. “Nothing else. Just don’t hurt my daughter.”
“I won’t.”
He rises from the table. “Why don’t you get our little force of nature from her bedroom, while I put some candles on her birthday cake and open a bottle of champagne? It sounds like we’ve got a lot to celebrate.”
Chapter 26
Reed
I knock on the door to Georgina’s bedroom, and say her name, but when she doesn’t reply, I poke my head inside the room. She’s lying on her bed, earbuds in, her eyes trained on an e-reader.
“Georgina?”
Nothing.
I cross the small room, detecting the faintest sound of 22 Goats blasting from Georgina’s ears. When I reach the edge of the bed, I stand over her for a beat, waiting for her to look up, but she’s too engrossed in whatever she’s reading to notice me. Out of curiosity, I peek at the book title in the upper corner of the page she’s reading and discover it’s a biography of a New York City mobster. The sight makes me smile broadly. How is it possible for someone so gorgeous to also be so damned smart, adorable, and curious?
I could stand here all night, watching Georgina’s various facial expressions as she reads. But since her father is waiting on us, I gently tap the top of her head to announce myself.
At my touch, Georgina jolts, tosses down her e-reader, and pulls out her earbuds.
“What’d he say?” she gasps out, her cheeks flushed with anticipation.
“Remember what Tony said a good Italian father would say to a ‘suave’ dude like me? That’s basically what he said.”
Georgina winces. “Was it super weird and cringey for you?”
“Not at all. It was awesome, actually. The conversation ended well. And it helped me further clarify my thoughts and feelings about you. About us.”
Her eyebrows ride up. “What does that mean?”
I sit on the edge of the bed. “Your father told me all these grand gestures I’ve been doing for you, and him, would imply I’m promising ‘forever’ to you. And I said, good. That’s precisely my intention.”
Georgina makes that wide-mouthed, astonished face I love so much. “You actually used the word ‘forever’ when talking to my father—about me?”
I nod. “And I meant it.” I take her hands. “If I haven’t made this clear to you, Georgina, let me do it now. I’m not going anywhere. You’re my last stop on the train.”
Her chest heaves. “You’re mine, too.”
“Glad to hear it. But, listen, love. There’s something else your dad said... something we should talk about.”
I’d noticed Georgina reading everything Henn sent to me about Gates during our flight home from New York, and it was clear to me the information was deeply distressing to her. But she said she didn’t want to talk about it yet, so I didn’t press. Instead, I simply put my arm around my baby and invited her to sleep on my shoulder for the rest of the flight.
But now, after hearing that thing Marco said to me a moment ago—that thing about Georgina supposedly melting down for a solid week in high school, due solely to some dumb boy—my gut tells me it’s time for her to speak up about Gates. At least, with her father.
“While your father was warning me not to break your heart,” I say, “he told me a cautionary tale about some unknown boy in high school who broke your heart so badly you crawled into bed and cried for a week.”
Georgina scowls. “Ugh. My dad made a similar comment the other day. You realize he’s talking about the week after Gates attacked me, right?”
“Yeah, that’s my point. I understand why you didn’t tell your father about Gates at the time. And I’m not trying to push you to do something you’re not ready to do. But do you really want your father thinking his daughter spent a week in bed because some stupid high school boy dumped her? No wonder he thinks you’re more fragile and naïve than you are. He has no way of knowing what a badass you are, Georgina. A grown man attacked you, at seventeen—a man in a position of power—and you fought him off. Don’t you want your father to know that’s the badass daughter he raised, all on his own?”