Page 74 of Tarek

“I need a special chain made.” Special? I guess it is. Penny is special. She is smart, pretty, and funny. I think she deserves a little something extra than my other girls.

“A special girl needs a special necklace. What do you have in mind?” The glee in Gio’s voice comes across the phone.

“Unlike the rest, I want an aquamarine diamond as the main stone. I will leave the rest to your genius.”

A clapping of hands echoes around me from my speaker. “I will keep it elegant and simple. You can have it in three days I will charge it.”

“Fabulous. Thank you, Gio.” I parked at the back entrance of the Glasshouse and as expected, Marco marches through the door with a box.

The passenger seat door opens, and he slides it onto the seat.

His eyes hold a hint of mirth. “A Penny inspired dinner? Pomegranates?”

“Yes, I’m fucking hungry, and she likes my food. I can kill two birds with one stone by cooking for her.”

Marco bends his head and nods. “Of course. Well, enjoy your dinner.” His lips strain like he wants to hold in a laugh.

“Close my fucking door, Marco,” I sneer.

“Tell Ms. Penelope I said hi.”

Before I could respond he slams the door in my face and smacks the roof of my car. What the hell is wrong with everyone? It’s just food. I pop open my glove compartment and retrieve a box of my Treasurer London cigarette and lighter. Sliding one between my lips, I flick the lighter to life. The tip flares a bright orange as I inhale deeply. Almost instantly I cough, my lungs are protesting the sudden invasion of smoke.

My tires screech as I swerve into traffic my adrenaline surges. I fire off a quick text.

Me

I’m almost there, Treasure.

My phone buzz and the screen on my dashboard says, “Dad.”

“What’s up, old man? Still breaking hearts in Tokyo?” I ask as the cigarette hangs in the corner of my mouth.

My father’s hearty laugh greets me. “I only broke one heart in my life boy. The others don’t even matter.”

The car idles at another red light. “When are you coming back to the US?”

“I’m currently boarding my plane. Where are you going?” he asks. I can hear the flight attendant trying to get his attention.

“Archer Holt has an event.”

“Oh, I saw him on TV. Do you know him? Are you interested in politics? Make your old man happy and say yes,” my father said, sounding hopeful.

“No, I’m going to pick someone up.” I make two more right turns, then I drive up behind the cue of cars waiting.

“New chain collector?” That’s what my father calls my situationships, “chain collectors”.

“No.”

“So, you didn’t get a necklace for her?” My father’s voice rumbles on the phone.

“I did, but this one is…”

“Different? But you’re going to give her a necklace? Hmm.”

I roll my eyes at my father. “I had one specially made for her.”

“Oh, okay.” The sarcasm drips from his voice. If it were another person and I would have said, “Fuck you,” and got off the phone. But with my dad…

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