Page 103 of Beautiful Crazy

I love you so much, Emmett. So damn much. I hope you can forgive any of my shortcomings and know that whatever you choose in your life, I am walking right beside you, with my hand on your shoulder, and I am so damn proud.

Forever in my heart,

Dad XOXO

I don’t even have words.

I stare at Dad’s handwriting for many long minutes in front of the window, with both tears and a goofy grin on my face at the wonderment that is and was my father.

All that time he had money. All that time he had to have known he was the richest man in Bardstown. Hell, maybe even the richest man in Kentucky, but nobody ever knew it.

“How the hell did Mom keep a secret like that? And even Beckham and Graham…they haven’t done anything extravagant.”

Almost forgetting to open the second envelope, I step over to the coffee table, pick it up, and carefully rip it open. I pull out the first check made out to me in the amount of “Hooooly fuuuuuck.” I immediately break down into a mess of tears.

Ten million dollars.

Ten.

Million.

Dollars.

“What the absolute fuck would I ever need that much money for? Oh, my God, Dad,” I sob. “This is…unbelievable.”

I cry for a few minutes, allowing myself to let it all out, the happy and the sad. The anger, the fear, the overwhelming need to find Emily and wrap my arms around her. All of it. And then as if on cue, I stop, sit up, grab my phone, and make a phone call.

“Elk and Myers Design Firm, this is Wendy. How may I direct your call?”

“Mrs. McMurray, this is Emmett Fox.”

“Oooh Emmett, how are you feeling? We’ve certainly missed you around here.”

“I’m fine Mrs. McMurray, thank you for asking. Is Jane in?”

“She actually just left for lunch.”

“Even better, can you connect me with her voicemail please?”

“Certainly dear. Hold one moment.”

I wait until I hear my boss’s voice asking to leave a message at the tone along with my name and phone number. As soon as the beep sounds, I leave my message.

“Jane, this is Emmett Fox. I’ll be taking a two-week vacation effectively immediately. There’s a…umm, an emergency I need to take care of. If that’s not okay, I’m sure you’ll accept my letter of resignation. Thanks.”

I don’t say goodbye. I don’t ask her to call me back. I simply hang up, feeling lighter than I’ve felt in years.

“One thing done. Time to go see my brothers about getting the girl. If anyone knows what to do, they will.”

I enter Player Pete’s and immediately spot my brothers in a booth near the back corner of the room. As soon as Beckham sees me, he gestures toward me with his head. Graham turns his head, takes one look at me and laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your face, Dude. Red cheeks, puffy eyes, disheveled hair…”

“It’s a very familiar look,” Beckham explains. “Welcome to the club.”

Graham slides over and pats the seat next to him. “Drinks are on you, man. Have a seat.”

---