Forty-Seven
ESSIE
“A h, shit. My Wheat Thins are in my desk,” Dalton murmurs as we step out of the elevator.
I shoot a glance in his direction. This man just quit a high-paying, luxe banking career and abandoned several outrageously expensive bottles of liquor in his office—and he’s talking about his Wheat Thins .
He’s perfect.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, taking his hand and squeezing it.
Dalton lets out a slow breath through his nostrils. “Yeah,” he replies after a beat. “They sell them everywhere, so we can get a new box—”
“I meant about quitting,” I clarify. “And also the thing with Hannington.”
Dalton faces me and takes my other hand. His thumbs drag over my knuckles, caressing them while he thinks. “I don’t need a father,” he finally says. “I thought I needed someone who was proud of me and wanted to take care of me purely out of love.” Our eyes connect. “But I have you. I can do all that for you, and you do the same for me. We both do it for our friends and families. Why do I need a father?”
“You don’t,” I reply, stepping closer and releasing his hands to pull him into an embrace.
“I don’t need that job either,” he continues. “Neither do you. And no matter what, it would be my honor to support you. If you want to cam, I’m in—on- or off-camera. If you want to resort to a life of crime, apparently, I make a good serial killer. Whatever you want. Because I know one thing for certain.” He cups my cheeks, bends, and kisses my forehead before he says, “I’m going to make you so much money that you’re not going to know what to do with it.”
I’m completely fine. I’m completely fine because I’m so completely in love with this guy .
I tug Dalton down. His mouth is hot against mine, and we kiss there in the lobby until my phone buzzes in my pocket.
He practically pouts when I pull away to read my messages. “For you to stop kissing me, it better be an emergency alert about a missile headed to DC.”
But this isn’t a laughing matter. “Can you get me to Massachusetts?”
He snickers. “To Salem?”
“To Boston. Christian is in the hospital with an allergic reaction.”
Dalton’s face pales. “Shit, that’s awkward. I’m sorry.”
I wave my hand. “Whatever. I’m used to you. Can we just go?”
We’re leaving when a voice calls out, “Wait, Cavendish.”
Dalton and I turn around and see Weston crossing the lobby with his perfect black hair flowing as he jogs.
He stops in front of us. “My father,” he begins before swallowing audibly. “My father has impressed upon me the likelihood that Claudia Villatoro walks without you two. He strongly encouraged I apologize and ask you both to…” He inhales like it’s physically painful. “…to come back.”
Dalton snickers. “Let me guess. He threatened your pathetic, cuck existence if you didn’t come and grovel.”
“Dalton,” I hiss, nudging his arm with my elbow before facing Weston again. “But he did, didn’t he?”
Weston keeps his expression flat while he nods.
Dalton looks at me. “Your call.”
“Well,” I begin, “I can lend my talents to a bank where everyone knows I’m a camgirl. I’ll have to work alongside a sniveling nepo baby who sent me thirty-seven dick pics over the last two months, thinking I’d be impressed. Or , I can leave him to drown in the cesspool of his father’s dying bank.”
“I’m so hot for you right now,” Dalton murmurs.
I weave my arm around his waist before turning my attention back to Weston. “Pass.”
His eyes slip to daggers. “Whatever. Good luck with your mask videos, you weirdos.”
Without hesitation, Dalton throws the most vicious punch I’ve ever seen, sending Weston sailing until he’s sprawled a few feet away on the lobby’s tiled floor.
“Huh.” He shakes out his fist and flexes his fingers. “I thought I’d enjoy that more. Can you post his info on the dark web? I feel like that would help my mood.”
“Yeah, maybe later,” I agree, watching as Weston groans and clutches his face on the tiles.
“Great. Let’s go. I think I have Wheat Thins in my car.”
***
Dalton breaks countless traffic laws on the fast drive to Boston, and it doesn’t have anything to do with rushing—it’s just how he drives.
Still, when we get to the hospital where Christian is recovering, he’s well through the worst of it.
“I had my EpiPen. I’m fine,” is the first thing he says when I practically run into his hospital room while Dalton is parking.
“How?” I question, rushing over to put a hand on his forehead.
“I got careless. I’m fine,” he insists, swatting away my hand. “Tell her,” he says to Luis and Tommy, who are lounging in chairs next to his bed.
“He’s doing great. This hospital is amazing,” my father says from behind me, startling me and making me freeze.
When I turn around, he’s seated on a couch partially obscured by the door. His expression is somber but familiar, handsome but older every time I see him. This time, he looks exhausted.
“You and I are both listed as Christian’s emergency contacts, so they called me too,” he explains before I can ask why the hell he’s here. “They were having trouble getting in touch with you.”
“I had a thing at work,” I reply, frowning. “Why are you still here?”
Before my dad can respond, Dalton enters the room. “There you are,” he says before he wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead. “You leapt out of my car like I kidnapped you. Don’t do that again, sweetheart.” He bobs his chin at Christian. “What took you out?”
“Eggs,” Christian says, but he’s focused on our father, whose eyes are saucers.
“What the fuck?” Dalton remarks, finally noticing him too. “Did you guys know Porter was here?”
“I have a right to be here. I’m his father,” Dad replies.
Dalton’s body tenses in my arms. He almost moves forward, but I stop him.
“Actually, I’m Christian’s father,” I reply, moving in front of Dalton. “Do you remember what you said the last time I saw you?”
My father swallows hard and looks down.
“You said, ‘I don’t know how you can ever be happy living the life you do. I don’t know how either of you can look at yourselves in the mirror,’” Dalton fills in, verbatim as usual.
“You said, ‘Your mom would have hated this,” I finish, doing nothing to quell the disdain in my voice.
My father inhales deeply before he raises his chin. “I’m not proud,” he admits. “When Alyssa ended things, she said, ‘If I couldn’t even love my own family as they are, she couldn’t trust me to love her.’” He shakes his head. “She was right.” He stands and steps closer to me, which naturally makes Dalton flinch.
“He’s fine,” I assure Dalton.
“He can prove that,” Dalton responds, draping his arm across my chest and pulling me back.
Dad sighs. “Guys, when Mom died, I failed you. I was heartbroken and terrified, so I ran. I have no right to come into your lives and tell you how to live them or to judge them. But honestly, I don’t have much to judge. Luis, Tommy, you two are loyal, kind, and ambitious. And Christian, you’re…” He ticks his eyebrows. “Well, I’ll just come out with it: You need to take more criminology classes if you want to work at the Bureau—”
Dalton actually starts laughing aloud, but quickly covers it with a cough.
“—but you’re protective, which I appreciate,” Dad continues before he faces me. “And Essie, I can’t help but think all these qualities I love about your brothers were things they learned from you. You embody so much good, but the thing I respect the most is how confident you are. It’s not surprising you could succeed in a career where you make other people feel better, and I know you got that from Mom—and she would have been proud of you.”
It takes me a long pause to realize he’s not talking about banking; he’s talking about camming .
“I messed up, Essie,” he finishes. “Irreparably, by most standards, but I’m going to be better.”
I glance at my brothers, who seem to be waiting for me to speak. I face my father again and take in the earnestness in his expression.
Over the years, I’ve watched my friends hate their fathers. They always had a reason, but it never made the estrangement easy. The relationship between fathers and their children is complicated. Power and privilege are thrust upon men who don’t always deserve them—and the ones who pay the consequences are their families.
But the good ones can learn they were wrong. The great ones want you to be happy.
I think my father is one of the good ones…and I believe he could be one of the great ones.
“I’m ready to learn,” he reiterates, “—about camming and banking. Please, hon. I’m ready.”
With a deep breath, I step forward—and Dalton lets me go. And for the first time in a long time, I really hug my father. “Don’t worry about banking. That’s done,” I say into his chest.
He pulls back and looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“Completely.”
Dad rubs my back. “Well, good. I tried to read about investment banks, and they’re so boring that I think I became a Marxist.”
This time, Dalton actually can’t hold back his laughter, and he gives that big, beaming smile to my dad. “ Shit . Mom was right—you actually are funny.”
“Hey,” says Christian, “this is a great reunion. We owe some thanks to a croque monsieur.”
Dalton spins around. “ That’s what you ate? That’s, like, the eggiest thing ever. How did you not know?”
“Because I’m not an archduke, you scrotum-face,” Christian retorts.
Dalton’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did you just call me scrotum-face ?”
Christian hesitates. After all, Dalton has a solid foot on him, and Christian has seen him naked; he knows he’s all muscle. But before Christian can decide, Dalton grins. “That’s my new favorite insult,” he decides. “I’m going to love having little brothers.”
“The wedding is still off,” my father reminds him.
“Speak for yourself,” Dalton replies before putting his arm around me. “These three are going to be my brothers-in-law. And go work on yourself, Porter. Because I’m going to propose to Essie soon and I’d like you to be involved.”
My dad holds out a hand to Dalton, who takes it. “I’d like that too.”
Standing next to my father, I look at Dalton and finally relax. The moment is surreal, and certainly not something I saw coming when my father came back into my life.
But Dalton and I did it together. We put a family back together—and I can’t imagine a better partner than him.
“So,” Dalton says, glancing at his watch before he scans the room, “anyone want to check out Salem?”