Page 20 of Dark Love

“What if I find your number on my own and call to ask you out?”

“I’m not interested.”

“In me or in dating at the moment? Because I’ll have you know, I’m a patient and persuasive man.”

Am I interested in him? There hasn’t been a single spark. Not one little inclination that we have a chance of going anywhere. “I’m not interested in either, sorry. Friends are all I’m up for at the moment.”

“Do friends get brownies?” He pops the last bit of the one he stole into his mouth.

“On occasion.”

“Deal. But you better come in and have some dinner first.” He steps back.

It’s going to be a long night.

***

The food was so good, I might be falling into a coma. Mom is a good cook, but nothing like these people. Cooking is an art form around here. One that I actually understand. They might have to roll me out of here soon, but until they do, I’m just going to sit here and let the food digest in their park that’s pretending to be a backyard.

“You aren’t going to date my father, are you?” Hope plops down in the chair next to me.

Ahhh. So that was what the invitation was all about. “No. I’m not.”

“What if I tell you he’s a wonderful guy and stupid rich?”

The billionaire thing wasn’t a joke, was it? “I already know that he’s a wonderful guy. He loves you very much. And Hope, you need to learn this right now, because if you wait until you’re older, it’s a lesson you’ll learn the hard way. Money doesn’t matter when it comes to love. And if it does, you’re not really in love.”

“But on television—”

“On television, elephants fly, and mice can plot to take over the world. Regardless of what society tells you, if the only reason you ‘love’ a guy is because he’s rich, you don’t love him at all. What is all of this really about?” I search her face for answers she probably doesn’t even understand.

“I’m going to go to college soon, and my dad is going to be all alone.”

Ahh. “He’s hardly alone with all this family around him.”

“It’s not the same. Since I killed my mom—”

“Excuse me! What did you just say?”

“I didn’t shoot my mom or anything. She got cancer and chose to have me instead of getting the treatments that might have saved her.”

The guilt and pressure this poor little girl must feel every day. “What a gift your mother got.”

“What? My mother died.”

“Too many people die from cancer every day. But your mother got the chance to leave a legacy. A little piece of her will remain in this world because of you. Not everyone gets that chance.”

“Really? Everyone always said mom wanted me more than anything. They would whisper that she had me so that my dad wouldn’t be alone.” Hope leans back heavily in her chair. “Are you sure you can’t fall in love with him?”

“Why me? Why do you want me to fall in love with your father?”

“Because you bake brownies and cookies from scratch. My father loves cookies. Nonna jokes that he could live on them. You put flowers in the windows. And you sing to yourself when you’re in your backyard. My dad needs someone that does all those things.”

Hope makes me sound like a pretty special person. But singing off key and planting stuff that dies every season is closer to reality. “Love doesn’t work that way. We don’t get to pick people based on the skills they possess.” Though, as my mom says, it helps sometimes. “Does your dad ever talk about your mom?”

“All the time.”

“Then maybe he’s not ready yet—” or he might not ever be ready “—to fall in love again.”

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