‘Not just money,’ she returned. ‘It’s about independence and autonomy. I need to be my own person—’
‘And you can’t do that living in my apartment?’ He made her feel ridiculous, and yet she couldn’t just fall in with his plans, fit into his life without having one of her own.
‘I can’t believe I’m even thinking of moving in with you,’ she said, shaking her head slowly.
‘It makes sense.’
Emma didn’t answer. It did make a certain kind of bizarre sense, which both aggravated and alarmed her. Three days ago she’d thought Larenzo Cavelli would spend his life in prison. Two days ago she would have fought tooth and nail to keep him out of her daughter’s life.
And now she was thinking of living with him? She pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. ‘This is so crazy.’
‘Maybe so,’ Larenzo agreed with a shrug, ‘but it’s our reality. I won’t take no for an answer, Emma.’
She opened her eyes and stared at him, saw that coldness in his eyes, the hint of how hard he could be. ‘What would you do if I did say no, Larenzo?’
‘It won’t come to that.’
‘But if it did?’
He hesitated, then stated flatly, ‘I’d sue for custody.’
Emma jerked back, appalled. ‘So this is basically blackmail.’
‘No.’
‘Then what would you call it? “Live with me or I’ll take your child.” That’s what you’re saying, Larenzo.’
‘And what are you saying?’ he answered, a hint of anger in his voice. ‘“You’re my child’s father and I don’t want you involved in her life,” even though you know I am innocent.’
‘I didn’t say that—’
‘You’ve been saying that for ten months, Emma.’
She took a deep breath. Arguing would get them nowhere. ‘Things have changed, Larenzo. I recognise that. But you can’t expect me to fall in with your plans without a second’s thought—’
‘I haven’t. I told you, you have until tomorrow.’
‘Well, thanks for that,’ she answered sarcastically. There was no reasoning with this man. No swaying him. So what was she going to do?
The waiter came with their meals, giving Emma a few minutes’ respite from the intensity of their conversation.
She picked at her chicken, her gaze lowered; she didn’t think she could swallow a single mouthful. Then, to her shock, she felt Larenzo’s hand on her own, his palm warm and strong just as it had been a year and a half ago, when he’d covered her hand with his own and she’d felt, for a moment, closer to this man than anyone else on earth.
‘Why are you fighting this, Emma?’ he asked quietly, and his voice was as sorrowful as it had been back on that night. His touch and his words catapulted her to that time when she’d felt so much for this man, had longed to comfort him. Had seen tenderness and understanding in his eyes, had felt it in his arms.
A lump rose in her throat and she blinked rapidly, swallowed past it. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered, and it sounded like a confession.
‘I want to be with Ava. I never had a family of my own, except...’ He stopped, his voice choking, and shook his head. ‘I don’t want this to be acrimonious, God knows. I want to get to know my daughter and love her. Please let me do that.’
She gazed up at him, saw the sincerity and emotion in his eyes, and felt her last reservations melt away. She believed Larenzo. She believed he was innocent, but, more importantly, she believed he wanted what was best for Ava.
She only hoped it was best for her too.
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re doing this.’
Meghan stood behind Emma as she finished packing her suitcases—just one for her and one for Ava, really not much at all to bring to her new home. Her new life.
‘It makes sense, Meghan,’ she said, which was what Larenzo had said to her last night. Last night she’d lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep as she’d thought about her future, when she’d heard Meghan’s and Pete’s raised voices downstairs, and had known they were talking about her. She’d crept to the top of the stairs, everything in her stilling as Pete had declared,
‘She can’t stay here any longer, Meghan. I’ve been patient, God knows, but two more mouths to feed is expensive, and if this Cavelli character has connections to—’
‘He was cleared of all charges,’ Meghan had cut across her husband.
‘Even so—’
‘She doesn’t have anywhere else to go, Pete.’
‘Then she needs to find somewhere,’ Pete had answered grimly, and Emma had crept back to her bed.
Pete was right. She couldn’t stay here any longer, for too many reasons. And she no longer wanted to deny Larenzo access to his daughter, even if she was afraid of what that might mean. Not for Ava, but for her.
‘You could stay here,’ Meghan persisted, and Emma met her sister’s eye in the mirror hanging over the bureau.
‘You know I couldn’t,’ she said quietly, and Meghan flushed and looked away.
‘I was afraid you might have heard that conversation—’
‘Pete’s right, Meghan.’
Meghan bit her lip. ‘I like having you here, Emma. You’ve been away for so long—’
‘New York City isn’t that far. I’ll visit lots, I promise.’
‘I’ll worry. I still don’t trust Cavelli. Even if he was cleared of charges...’
‘What happened to innocent until proven guilty?’ Emma asked lightly. ‘I trust him, Meghan, and I know he wouldn’t hurt his daughter.’ She paused, her gaze on the clothes she was folding. ‘He was good to me when I worked for him.’ She bit her lip as a pang of bittersweet longing assailed her. ‘He was very good to me.’
‘But can you really trust him?’ Meghan persisted, and Emma thought of what he’d said last night at dinner. You can’t trust anyone in this world. That’s one thing I’ve come to realise. When had he realised that? When he was a child at the orphanage, or when he’d been sent to a prison for crimes he might not have committed? A lifetime of betrayal, perhaps, and yet there was still so much she didn’t understand.
‘Yes, I can,’ she answered Meghan. ‘At least when it comes to Ava.’
