A soft laugh, sardonic and bittersweet, escaped her. “You’re in so much legal trouble for assaulting Kulli.”
Gerald gave a half smile. “I know a great lawyer.”
She groaned, the moment changing, the feeling in the air between them shifting to that sense that they lived in their own bubble, a place where the rest of the world whooshed on around them. Where balance came naturally and they were understood.
“I don’t take criminal cases.”
“I’m a criminal? Huh.” He stared at her. “Ever date a bad boy?”
“No. I only date good guys. Men in uniform.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
The kiss was tender, his lips bruised. She tasted copper, a hint of blood, and his mouth tightened.
“You have to admit, hitting him was cathartic,” she said, squeezing his hips.
His hand brushed her hair over her shoulder, the knuckles raw. “I was stupid.”
“We’ll get the charges dropped.”
“I love you.” Even when they’d been together, he’d said it rarely. To hear it now was unbelievable, like breaking the sound barrier with your heart.
“I love you too, Gerald.” He leaned in for another kiss, but instead she punched his chest.
“What’s that for?”
“For not trusting me. For wasting ten years.”
“How many punches do you want? I deserve it.” Braced for impact, he closed his eyes, then opened one.
Groaning, she reached for his hand and began walking. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
Chapter 14
“You strike me as the kind of man who wants to earn his success. Not have it handed to him. I admire that.” A week later, Gerald was working, driving James McCormick to a meeting at a venture capital firm on the 128 belt outside of Boston.
He’d just rejected James McCormick’s offer of seventy million for the relic.
“I’ll donate to the cultural institution of your choice—law permitting—on one condition,” Gerald offered, wondering if the old man would bite.
If James McCormick admired him, might as well go for the gold.
Er, so to speak.
“What’s that?”
“The Montgomery Foundation agrees to sponsor the Westside Center for the Arts in perpetuity. All programs, plus a to-be-determined number of camp scholarships.” He quoted their annual budget.
“I spend that on fine dining in a year, Gerald,” McCormick scoffed. “And you’re asking my sons to use Elena’s family money to support your center.”
James McCormick’s eyes met Gerald’s in the rearview mirror, one of his bushy white eyebrows cocked. He looked just like his son, Andrew, in that moment.
“Why should I care what you do with that artifact? And why would I stake charity money on your decision? If you wanted that kind of investment, you could have asked for it without the contingency.”
Gerald had just swallowed his pride to ask.
Now he swallowed a lump in his throat.
“Then it’s a done deal?”
James harumphed. “Talk to Becky tomorrow. She’ll arrange the details.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. You know I grew up in South Boston.” He didn’t add qualifiers to any of his comments or questions. Gerald admired that.
“Yes, sir.”
“I wish we’d had a club for arts and recreation. Instead, we used cans and sticks.” He gave a strange grin. “My children had fencing coaches and ski lessons.”
“We work to give our kids a life that’s better than the one we had, sir.”
“That we do. That we most certainly do. Do you have children, Gerald?”
He thought of Suzanne.
“Not yet.”
“We never planned for three.” James McCormick’s voice was unusually wistful. “Elena and I were surprised by her pregnancy with Terry. It’s not that he wasn’t wanted. Just, well...unexpected. A bit early, you might say. We didn’t have the time together that most husbands and wives cherish before focusing on building businesses and families.”
Gerald said nothing.
“And then Declan two years later, and Andrew after that. Blessed with three healthy boys, we used to say. Elena wished we’d had a girl—said I would have spoiled her rotten. That men like me needed a ‘daddy’s little girl.’”
Gerald watched covertly in the rearview mirror. McCormick’s stare was unfocused, his mind wrapped up in memory. “But no such luck. Three boys it was for us.”
“They are all fine men, if I may say so, sir,” Gerald said, meaning it.
“Thank you. I agree. It does a man good to know he’s built something with a strong foundation. From the ground up. And while the result is never perfect, neither is the journey, Gerald. All we can do is our best.”
Our best.
“You decided what to do with that relic long ago, Gerald. That’s evident. Eleven years ago you made sure it made it to safety. I never thought you’d actually sell it to me.”
“What—you—you knew? You knew that I was the one who...”
“Who smuggled the relic into the U.S. from Afghanistan? Yes.”
“How?”
“Background check.”
“Background check? No background check would reveal that part of my life,” he argued.
“The kind Anterdec does most certainly would. And did. You weren’t hired to be a chauffeur, Gerald. You’re part of our crack security team. And when I found out what you did, and how Hopewell ended up with the relic, I decided to hire you on the spot.”