Page 110 of Joey

“Oh. Well, you look pretty grown up to me. So I think it’s OK.”

She agrees with a giggle and a curtsey.

And my heart. God help my fucking heart. Because that ache is there again. Stronger than ever. And I want her to be mine. Not mine, as in mine. Because I know she’s my biological daughter. But I want her to look at me the way she does Michael. I want her to know me.

When we sit at the table she suddenly looks very small. The tallness I thought she possessed shrinks when she can barely see over her tea cup.

Michael is quiet and lets her talk. Which she does with enthusiasm. Telling me about her day. And her sister. And the party tomorrow.

She eats too many cakes. But Michael doesn’t say anything and neither do I.

And then the governess is there. Has been here the whole time, I realize. Taking her hand and telling her to say goodbye.

She curtseys for me again, smiling and giggling as she says, “See you later, alligator,” and then skips out of the room like she hasn’t a care in the world.

I lean back in my chair, my tea and cakes untouched, and look over at Michael.

“You’re here,” he says in a controlled, even tone, “because I know what kind of power you wield. I know there will be a fight. I know it could very easily get ugly. But I would like to tell you something right now, Joey Boston.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“If any of the filthy business you Bostons are a part of touch this little girl in any way…” He pauses to lock eyes with me. “I will kill you with my bare hands.”

I actually don’t know what to say.

“That clear? Mr. Boston?”

“First of all,” I say, taking my napkin out of my lap and placing it on my untouched plate, “my business is called Cryptomation. Anything else you’ve heard about how I make money is a rumor and nothing more.”

He shakes his head. “If you think I’m dumb enough to believe that, you’re either more stupid than I thought, or pathetically naive.” He leans forward. Staring me down. “I know what you do. I know all about what you Boston Brothers do.”

I hold my breath, hoping he’ll expound. Because I don’t even know what we do. I want to lean over, wrap my hands around his throat, and choke him until he tells me.

“And maybe I’m a part of it too,” he says.

Hmm. I exhale and force the rage hidden deep inside me to leave with my breath. Because that’s interesting.

But I’m still trying to fit together the what and why of that statement when he says, “But it was never my choice.”

“It’s not my choice, either,” I say. “And I’m telling you the truth. I have nothing to do with the Bossy Building. I don’t live there. I have not lived there in more than fifteen years. So…” I shrug. “You’re right. There will be a fight. And it probably will get messy. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You could just give me what’s mine.”

“What’s yours?” he says.

“She’s my daughter.”

His jaw clenches and he sucks in a deep breath. “And if I don’t? If I say, ‘Fuck you, Boston Brothers, go to hell?’ Then what will you do? Will you call up Johnny and tell him to pay us a little visit?”

I narrow my eyes at him. Because I have never, ever, in my entire fucking life, asked my brother Johnny for a favor.

“No,” I say, standing up. “I’ll just see you in court.”

I turn and walk to the doors. I’m just pulling them open when he says, “We’re not done here.”

I pause. Bow my head and look at my hands gripping the door handles. “I think we are.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - BROOKE

They’re setting up a carousel on the back side of the party tent. I didn’t notice it when we pulled up. Maybe because they’ve made more progress since we arrived, or maybe it was just hidden.