Rita’s taste lingers on my tongue for hours after licking her to orgasm in the outdoor shower.
Fortunately, Carson and Nolan both return to the city after the beach. They linger for a drink, tell some stories about their various exploits, then head out. “No hard feelings about earlier,” Carson says, shaking my hand. “Just testing the new lawyer, that’s all.”
“None at all,” I say, giving him a smile, while inwardly thinking about stabbing him in the throat. “You’re just trying to vet me. Totally understand. For men in your line of work, your lawyer is very important.”
“Exactly.” He laughs and heads out. Nolan gives me an apologetic smile and follows.
I almost want to thank him for turning me into a jealous prick.
Otherwise, I never would’ve gotten a taste of Rita.
Instead, I put them out of mind. Rita’s hanging on my arm as I sip good whiskey out on the balcony with Orin and Molly. “You know, Scar, all this talk about family, it isn’t bullshit.” Orin watches me over his drink, eyes narrowed. “I consider everyone that works for me a part of my extended family in some small way.”
“It’s a good trait to have,” I say, nodding along. Even though it’s all total bullshit. The second the heat comes down, these guys roll on each other like construction equipment.
“What does family mean to you?” he asks, glancing at Rita. “Are you two thinking about expanding your numbers?”
Rita sputters. “Uh, no babies,” she says quickly. A little too quickly. I give her a look. “Not yet, anyway.”
Molly titters, laughing. “Looks like a little friction in the marriage,” she says, nudging her husband. “Sounds like we were.”
“You’re young still,” he says, waving at Rita. “You don’t need to rush, but I will tell you. Children change your life. They change it in more ways you ever dreamed possible. No matter how much you understand that intellectually, you won’t experience it until it happens.”
“Can I ask you an honest question?” Rita glances at me. I can tell she’s nervous, but our conversation from earlier plays through my head. I give her a little nod, deciding to trust her.
Trust doesn’t come easy for me, but I have to take the leap.
“Go ahead,” Orin says softly. “Ask away.”
“Is it all bad?” she asks, then quickly follows up before they can answer. “It’s just that, whenever I hear parents talk about their kids, it’s always to complain about how hard it is. Kids can’t be all awful, right?”
Orin glances at Molly. They exchange a knowing smile. “No, dear, it’s not all bad,” he says. “It’s easy to talk about the hard things. The good things are more difficult to quantify.”
“Like what?” Rita asks. The sun’s setting. Purple and orange light cuts through the clouds. I breathe the salty air and watch Rita, my fake wife. She looks so damn vulnerable right now. Some part of me is aware she’s getting parenting tips from a mobster, but I’m too fascinated by the whole interaction to stop it.
I want to know what she thinks about having a family. She told me about her own complicated relationship with her parents-and I want her to talk about how that plays into her own views on parenting. I want everything from her, every crumb, every truth.
Orin strokes his chin before answering. “Well, there’s your oldest waking you up in the morning, only to climb into bed and snuggle against you. There are the hugs. The laughter. God, they’re so damn funny.” Orin glances away, eyes going far-off. “Other things. Watching them grow. Watching them learn and become men. I’m proud of my boys, even if I don’t always agree with their choices. That’s the hardest lesson I learned. You can’t control them. You can only try to guide them. It feels so good when they succeed. It kills when they fail, too, but that’s all part of life.”
“They’re also very cute when they’re little,” Molly adds, grinning. She ruffles her husband’s hair. The gangster lord, Orin Callahan. Apparently, he’s a big softie. “My husband can get sentimental sometimes, but he’s right. The good things are all very intangible.”
“I just want to love them,” Rita blurts out. Her cheeks turn red. “I mean, I don’t want to mess them up, you know? I want to do right.”
“Then you will,” Molly says. “God, look at these two, Orin. Newlyweds on the precipice of starting a family. Were we ever that young?”
“Can’t imagine we were,” Orin says. He lets out a dramatic sigh. “But I believe dinner is nearly ready. Why don’t you ladies head on inside and let me have a word with Scar?”
Rita slips away from me. I wish she wouldn’t. I want to pull her back, hold her hand. The vulnerability she just showed, her worry and uncertainty, it lit a fire inside of me.
The thought of her as a mother. The idea of having a family-
It scares the hell out of me.
But for the first time, I met a woman that I could picture by my side.
How did I let things get so complicated? Why couldn’t I have seen this before?
But I can’t let myself fantasize. There are strict limits to our fake marriage, and I’m pretty sure kids are way, way off the table.
Still, it’s tempting. The thought of having someone there with me through all the pain and struggle-
Fuck, I wish I never signed that contract.
Molly whisks Rita away, leaving me alone with Orin. I lean back against the railing while I finish my drink, sloshing ice around the glass. He eyes me for a moment before producing two cigars.
We light up and puff away. “If you decide to join our family, there will be some rules,” he says softly, staring off toward the ocean, his face almost beatific as if he weren’t talking about his criminal organization. “We’d expect certain things. Discretion. Loyalty. Above and beyond what you provide to other clients.”
“I can promise complete discretion and loyalty. However, if you’re ever pulled into in a proceeding that involved another one of my clients, I will have to recuse myself. I can’t represent you above their interests, and I wouldn’t do that to you, either. It’s not a likely scenario, but I want to be clear.”
He tilts his head, considering, before grinning. “Spoken like a true lawyer. But fine, if that’s how it needs to be.” He squeezes my shoulder, directing me back toward the house. “There’s only the small matter of access.”
“Access?” My eyebrows raise.
“You’re based in Dallas. That’s not going to work for me.”
“I assure you, I can practice law in nearly every state-”
“That’s not what I mean.” He glances through the window to where Rita sits with Molly at the table. “If I need you, I need you immediately. Not in a few hours, not after a plane lands. But right away.”
“That’s difficult,” I admit. “I can hire staff and have them on hand in Boston, but-”
“I need you to move closer,” he says, staring into my face. “If you want to join my family, I need you to join for real.”
I don’t know what to say. I’ve been in the Dallas area for a long time-it’s my home base, it’s everything I know. But what do I have there, really? An empty apartment? Carmine and Ford? They can take weekend trips to visit. Eros’s in Chicago and Lanzo’s all over the world; I still count them as my best friends.
“I’ll consider it,” I say cautiously, not ready to commit to a move just yet. “But it’s on the table.”
“Good. I wouldn’t expect you to say yes right away. Only decide sooner rather than later.” He laughs and yanks open the door. “Let’s get something to eat. We can discuss more business later.”
As we sit down, Rita gives me a look, eyes narrowed like she’s asking me something. I squeeze her thigh and give her a smile: everything’s okay. At least that’s the look I try to convey.
This is happening. Orin wants me to be his lawyer. He hasn’t said the words yet, but he’s talking about loyalty and cross-country moves. That’s serious business.
I’m close to getting what I want.
So why do I feel absolutely nothing right now?