2

Scarlett

I was thankful there were only a few people in the small café or we would have been tossed out. After taking a sip of wine, I wanted nothing more than to stop thinking about my father. Truth was, I missed him terribly, but there was no turning back the clock, no time machine that would allow everything to change. "What's happening in your life?"

"Me? Nothing so glorious. The new job is going okay, although there are some real putzes in the place, but I keep them in line."

"That's good." I don't know why I still blamed him for my mother's death. He had nothing to do with the car accident. I think I just wanted to blame him for everything given what I'd learned one fateful afternoon. A shiver slithered down the back of my legs.

"I have this thing for one of my coworkers though," Emily continued.

I don't even remember what I was looking for, but finding the damning contract, the glaring information indicating that he'd sold his soul to the devil had stripped away everything. I no longer thought of my daddy as a superhero, able to leap tall buildings. I simply saw him as a weak man, capable of selling out to the highest bidder.

To a monster.

"And he's green and has two horns, which come in extra handy during intercourse."

"That's really nice," I half whispered then realized what she'd said. "What?"

Emily pouted, pulling a face. "No one listens to me. Spill it. What's up with this family I never heard about? Come on."

"Nothing that I care about telling."

"You've heard every sad story of mine. If your dad keeps calling you, there has to be an important reason."

I took a solid gulp of wine before I found the courage to answer. "He just wants me to come back and take over the business."

"That's not the worst thing I've ever heard. I thought you were going to tell me he's a mass murderer or something."

I could feel myself shrinking back.

"Uh-oh. I landed in some shit there, huh?" Emily asked, trying her best to pull me out of my fog.

"He's a good guy. He just got mixed up with some really bad people back home. I learned to hate him for it."

"What kind of people are we talking about?" She toyed with her wine, running her finger around the rim as Lance walked by.

Emily was a girl to adore, so carefree and everything about her was lighthearted, at least until you crossed her. I waited until Mr. Hottie left and she'd taken a sip of her wine before trying to answer as nonchalantly as possible. "The mafia." The wine landed all over my shirt and on my white jeans.

"Oh, shit!"

We were both laughing by that point and I could almost envision Lance trying to clean the substance with his big, muscular hands, a soft towel, and...

The ringing of my phone interrupted the increased lust. This time, I yanked it out of my purse, glaring at the screen before hitting 'no' to refuse acceptance.

"Here. Take these napkins. I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry. It's not a party without someone spilling something." I turned over the phone but honestly, I was concerned. I was going to have to face whatever Daddy needed me to hear or he'd nag me to death. There was no point in pushing off the inevitable. I could be very nice, hear him out then remind him for the tenth time that I had a life.

One without him.

"Are you worried, I mean about your safety?" Emily's eyes opened wide. She'd never spent much time away from the area and the people here were friendly, caring and the majority of folks didn't even lock their doors at night. The entire state was a far cry from where I'd grown up, behind locked doors and steel bars. My father had been terrified his entire life.

And I learned why the hard way.

"What, because of what I told you?"

She nodded several times, her eyes brimming with concern. "Think about it. I've heard they are brutal, killing everyone."

"Chicago isn't the OK Corral, and I wasn't ever on their radar. I just don't like the people my father associated with." With every second of thinking about him, my mind was driven to the wonderful memories he'd created when I was growing up. Every day was special, even though he worked long hours. He'd make certain he picked up some goofy toy or a single rose for my mother. At least in the early days. We laughed all the time and my mother and I were so happy, even when he wasn't around.

Then everything had changed. Everything.

"Talk to him. Maybe he just wants to send his love and congratulations on the new business."

My phone made another sound, a text and I hissed under my breath. He was desperately trying to get to me. As I turned over the phone I was able to read a portion of the message. No. This couldn't be. My hands were shaking as I slid my finger across the screen, maneuvering to the text.

"Is everything okay?" Emily asked.

I was forced to blink several times before I understood what I'd read and what I would now be required to do. "No. I have to go." I was numb as I reached for my purse, unable to think clearly. What I knew at that very moment was that the rest of my life would never be the same. "I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything. What's going on?"

"Is there any way that you can watch out for the store? Just for a few days. The party can wait. The employees know what to do. I just need someone there I can trust."

Emily jumped to her feet, crowding closer. "Absolutely. What is happening?"

"It's my father." I lifted my head, my heart aching. "He's dead."