“No. No. I’ll be working. I have some new ideas that could be useful.”
“I’m sure you do.” Dad is too busy hurrying for the steps to the workshop to see Rick’s sneer. As rich and smart as Rick is, he can’t control his own face when it counts. He’s a beat behind in turning the sneer back into an approving smile for my benefit, but it’s back in place when he turns his green eyes on me. “What about you, doll?”
“She’s busy.” Cash crosses his arms over his chest.
Rick laughs. “I don’t think you answer for her, buddy.”
If nothing else, being in this family has graced me with the ability to smile sadly at Rick while my brother bristles and my dad hides in his workshop.
“I am a little busy,” I admit. “We’re working some things out with one of my father’s recent inventions.”
Rick’s laugh is appropriate for a hilarious joke. “Oh, yeah? Did Caroline finally take pity and offer him some financing?”
“No,” I say, my voice breaking on the word. I shouldn’t share anything with Rick. We’re not close, but my emotions are too near the surface. Leo Morelli tore down all my defenses, and I’ve had no time to rebuild them.
His expression morphs into wariness. “What’s wrong?”
He seems sincere in the moment, and I’m so close to crumbling. “Nothing.”
“Haley.”
I shake my head, lips trembling. A tear falls down my cheek. Twenty-four hours. What’s going to happen to me in twenty-four hours? “Oh God, Rick. It’s so terrible.”
A sob breaks from me. It’s my brother who answers in a grim tone. “It’s the Morellis. That’s his new fucking investor. Leo.”
The concern drops from Rick’s face like a discarded mask. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“He’s not joking,” I say on a shuddery breath.
Rick’s skin turns pale. Almost as pale as mine. “You know why Caroline keeps that bulldog around? What’s his name—Ronan? Not for the Morellis. For traitors.”
The pit of my gut turns to solid ice. He’s right. I don’t have twenty-four hours to solve this problem. Twenty-four hours is long enough for Leo Morelli to wreak havoc on my essentially defenseless father. Twenty minutes is long enough.
And Caroline won’t need that much time to send Ronan after us.
We’re going to die. If I wait, we’re going to die.
Arriving on Leo’s doorstep early won’t guarantee our survival, but it will give us a chance. I pretend to be very taken with the flowers. “Oh, I know.” I shake my head, wiping away my tears. “You know how Dad is. It’s a shiny idea, and he’ll forget after an hour in his workshop.”
Rick frowns. “Then why are you crying?”
“That time of the month,” I say, forcing a smile.
Rick’s expression eases. His entire adulthood has been about getting in with the Constantines, hence this Friday-night visit. It was a gamble in the first place, coming here for me when he could be trying to get closer to Winston or Elaine. The last thing he needs is guilt by association. “You sure about that?”
I take a deep breath. Every second that passes is as loud as a tolling bell. “Listen. I need a ride somewhere.”
Here’s my gamble. Here’s my roll of the dice. I’m betting that Rick knows about the Morellis almost as well as he knows about the Constantines. That’s one surefire way to be in the in-crowd—to have information that other people want.
A pleased smile. “To dinner?”
“Wait here.” I push the flowers into his hands. “Choose a nice place for those. Please?”
It’s not kind, what I’m doing. I know that. My hands tremble while I go through my closet. I have a limited wardrobe compared to Caroline’s daughters, but it’s not a problem I can solve right now. The dress that comes to hand is black and sexy. The sexiest one I have. That’s what Leo Morelli will demand. I can’t show up in leggings and a hoodie and expect to trade myself for my father’s life.
I spend ten minutes in front of the mirror, covering cheeks that are rosy and hot from the biting cold and Leo Morelli’s searing eyes. Shoes. A purse that matches.
This feels like a moment for red lipstick. I don’t own any. So I settle for the one shade I do have. It’s called Insist. Fitting.
The last thing I do is write a note. I skip the names like a coward.
Please don’t worry about me—I’m heading out to smooth things over. Back before you know it. Love you both, Haley
Rick whistles at me as I make my way down the stairs. “Any restaurant you want, doll. I’ll call in a favor.”
His car idles in the driveway, waiting for us. Rick helps me in. Guilt and anxiety make my heart feel too big for my rib cage. It doesn’t have enough room to beat, and it hurts when it does. I wish I could have hugged them goodbye, but Cash would have stopped me. I know he would have. He’d have put himself between me and the door.
Rick pulls out of the driveway, brimming with excitement. “I meant what I said. Name the place.”
It’s warm in the car, but I’m frozen. “How much do you know about Leo Morelli?”
His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “I know your father should stay away from him. Cancel any meetings he might have taken.”
“I need a ride.”
“I can’t take you to Leo Morelli. Damn it, Haley, you know better—”
I shove my hand into my pocket and come up with the piece of paper. It only takes a few seconds to read, and then it doesn’t matter if Rick takes the paper or tries to stop me. “You don’t have to take me to him. Just to my car. My dad signed a contract, Rick. I have to get him out of it.”
I let this hang in the air. Rick comes to a stop at the first intersection after our house, hand hovering over the turn signal. If Caroline finds out he helped me, then he’s going to lose all his access to the Constantine family. Maybe worse, given the existence of Ronan. So he shouldn’t help. But if he does, then I’ll owe him a favor. The struggle writes itself across his face. Either way, he could end up as screwed as the rest of us. Ah, the joys of being a Constantine.
“I can’t do it.” His shoulders tighten.
“You have to.”
“Your father will know. Your brother saw you leave with me.”
“We had a late dinner, and you dropped me off at my car.” I sound so much more confident than I feel. Part of me wishes Rick would insist on dinner and take the choice out of my hands, but that’s not how these things work. My dad’s name is signed in ink. It could be signed in blood. What kind of daughter would let that happen? “That’s all. I need a ride to my car and an address.”
Rick curses under his breath. He wants to drive into Bishop’s Landing. He wants to take me to a restaurant where we can see and be seen, and he can get one step closer to an official place in the Constantine family.
He turns toward New York City instead.
5
Leo
The knock at the door to my den is purposefully soft. “Are you awake, sir?”