All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

Prologue

~Quinn~

Five Years Ago . . .

I ease the sexy sports car through the turn, and then hit the gas, smoothly shifting through the gears as the Porsche picks up speed.

It’s summer, and late enough in the evening that the sun is casting shadows through the trees as I zoom faster and faster away from the city on a country road.

Away from my family.

Away from death.

I take a deep breath, blow it out, and then shift gears again, my body tense with adrenaline and anger.

Driving fast is the best way to clear my head. Always has been. I prefer it over drinking, drugs, or even fucking a beautiful woman.

This is the only time that I can truly empty my mind and just live.

But my sister, Darcy, can’t.

And now my father can’t.

The pain is swift, leaving me breathless and sweaty, so I speed up further, despite the deep shadows and harsh light from the time of day. I’m racing away to forget, but the fucked-up thing is, I can’t forget.

Darcy and Dad are both gone, and it’s left me with an ache I didn’t expect, and a hole that I can’t fill.

Even while driving.

Red and blue lights start flashing behind me.

“Fuck,” I mutter as I slow the car, then ease it over to the shoulder. I have my license and registration in my hand when the officer approaches my window, his hand resting on his sidearm.

“Good evening,” he says.

“Hello.”

“I pulled you over because you were driving one hundred ten miles an hour in a fifty-five zone.”

I take another deep breath but can’t muster up the emotion to give a rat’s ass.

“Did you know that you were going that fast?”

“No, sir,” I lie.

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, sir.” This one isn’t a lie.

“I’m going to ask you to step out of the car.”

I frown up at him. “I have my license here.”

“I see it. Step out of the car, please.”

I unfasten my seat belt, then climb out of the car, and stand respectfully, waiting. I know better than to start something with a cop. I don’t need to add to my family’s stress by getting arrested.

“I’m going to have you walk the line for me, sir.”

“Sobriety test?” I feel my eyebrows climb in surprise.

“Yep. You say you haven’t been drinking, but at the speed you were going, I can’t imagine you driving that way unless you’re either under the influence or just plain stupid.”

I shrug and immediately walk a straight line, then touch the tip of my nose with my forefingers. I even recite the alphabet backward, only mixing up n and m.

“Stupid then,” the officer says with a half smile and reaches out for my license. “You can get back in your car. I’ll be right there.”

I sit, trying my best to empty my mind and go numb. I’m anxious to get back on the road, and if that leads to another ticket, well, so be it.

I don’t give a fuck.

It’s not long before the officer returns and passes me the license along with the slip of paper, giving me instructions on how to pay or show up in court.

“Be careful, Mr. Cavanaugh. I don’t know what’s eating at you, but I’m not blind. If you do something stupid and kill yourself today, it’ll hurt your family.”

Bull’s-eye.

But I just mumble out a thank-you, then pull away, not speeding like I was, but not turning toward home yet either.

No, I don’t want to hurt any of them. That’s what this is all about. But I need this, and I have it under control.

I have everything under control.

Chapter One

~Sienna~

Today sucks.

I thought thirty days ago sucked, when we had to bury my grandpa, Louis Walter Hendricks. He and I were close. We did lunch once a week, at the same table at the same diner, where he wanted to hear all about my most current cases. A former attorney himself, he enjoyed the legal banter, and I loved filling him in.

He was wise and funny.

And not a little eccentric.

“Are you nervous?” my older sister, Louise, asks from the passenger side of my Ford Focus. She’s twisting her fingers in her lap and biting her lip, and her brown eyes are sad when they turn to me.

“No. Why?”

“I hate courtrooms,” she mutters with a shudder, and I laugh, merging onto the freeway from the Bronx, where we live and work, toward Manhattan where we’re meeting with Grandpa’s attorney.

“We won’t be in a courtroom,” I inform her and reach over to pat her knee. “You’ve seen too many movies.”

“Where are we going then? Grandpa’s attorney works in the Bronx.”

I shake my head. “I know, but he wanted the will to be read in Central Park. I don’t know why.”

Lou frowns. “Wait. We’re going to Central Park?”

“Yep. Didn’t you read the letter?”

“No, I knew you’d read it.”

She brushes me off, and I can’t help but chuckle. Louise and I are exact opposites. She’s carefree, impulsive. Sometimes she’s careless.