All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

I nod and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

“Dad and Patrick tried to screw the city out of the park. Uncle Patrick found the original letter, and the final letter that showed the loan had been paid in full, in a journal when he was going through Grandpa’s things after he died, but before the will reading. I guess, given that Uncle Patrick drew up Grandpa’s will, he knew that he and Dad wouldn’t be splitting the whole estate, and they felt that they were being ripped off.”

“Fuck,” she whispers and sniffs.

“They tried to get a million dollars out of House to make the proof go away.”

“Jesus, Si.”

I pull myself up and stare at my older sister, who looks so much like me, and yet is so different from me.

“They lied to us.”

We hold hands and make our way to my couch.

“Want to know the worst part?” I ask her.

“Jesus, it gets worse? Let me pour some wine first.”

She passes me a box of tissues, takes some for herself, and quickly opens a bottle of wine, bringing it with two glasses back to the couch.

“Okay.” She pours us each a glass and passes me mine. “Take a sip first, then go ahead.”

I oblige and lick my lips. “Quinn knew.”

Her eyes bulge, and her mouth forms an O shape. “What? He knew?”

“He didn’t know all of it until today, but he knew that Patrick was the one to initiate it all.”

“And he didn’t tell you.”

I shake my head and take another sip. “Nope. Because House told him, and it was attorney-client privilege.”

She’s blinking rapidly as she takes a huge gulp of her wine.

“Wow,” she says at last. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“Well, Dad and Patrick will be charged with real estate fraud and bribery. I don’t know if they’ll go to jail, or just be fined. They’ll probably be fined.”

“Jesus,” she mutters.

“I’m worried about Mom.” The tears start again, and I take another sip of wine. “She didn’t know what they were doing.”

“We’re strong like her,” Louise says. “But it’s going to be rough for her. Maybe I should stay with her for a little while.”

I nod and lean my head on Lou’s shoulder. “I want to deck them both.”

“Mom slapped Dad across the face,” she says, and I lift my head in surprise.

“She did?”

“Hard. Left a handprint.”

“Good for her.” I sigh and lean against her again. “How could they do it?”

“Greed is a bitch,” she says.

“I never pegged them for being greedy,” I reply. “They said they were pissed that you and I got the money, and all they got was the house.”

“Maybe Grandpa promised them more?” Lou suggests.

“Patrick gave House the letter before the reading of the will,” I reply. “No, they were pissed and being greedy, and it makes me wonder how I didn’t see it. I mean, these men raised us.”

“Hey, there are men in the freaking mob who raise their kids and love them.”

“Are you suggesting they’re part of the mob?” I ask incredulously.

“No, I’m saying that sometimes people do bad things, but it doesn’t make them bad people.”

“I can’t separate the two,” I admit. “Not today.”

“No, today is for being hurt. What are you going to do about Quinn?”

“I’m still hurt there too. So for now, I’m going to take some time to figure myself out and take it from there.”

“Good idea,” she says and goes back to playing with my hair, which has always calmed me. “I bet it wasn’t easy for him to not tell you.”

“He should have told me,” I argue softly. “I know it’s stupid, and I know better, but he should have told me. This was more than just a case.”

“For you,” she says.

“No, for both of us. I wasn’t falling in love alone.”

“Good point.” Louise fills my glass with more wine. “We should probably move this party to Mom’s. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“We’d better go before we’re too buzzed to drive.”

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Nineteen

~Quinn~

I know this road like the back of my hand. It’s where I go when I’m upset, driving too fast through the thick trees.

Sunlight filters through the leaves onto the road as I speed away from the city, smoothly shifting through gears.

I’m pissed, and if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m hurt.

So I shift into fourth and rev the Porsche around a sharp turn, and right past a cop car.

“Fuck,” I grumble as lights flash behind me and I pull over.

I don’t have time for this. I need to drive, to burn off this anger and aggression.

I roll down my window, my license and insurance already in my hand.

“Did you know you were speeding?”

I glance up and want to smile. This is the same guy who pulled me over years ago when I was driving the same road, after Dad died.