The 2,000-square-foot terrace is covered in astroturf with a large seating area surrounding a gas fire pit. There’s also a bar, three additional seating areas and a putting green. But beyond the glass wall at the edge of the roof is the most brilliant blue expanse of water, sunlight sparkling on the surface like millions of tiny diamonds, and blueish-purple skies stuffed with towers of white thunderheads. It’s one of the things I will miss most about Florida.
My chest unclenches as I lock Mac’s wheels and take the lunch bag from him. “Let’s walk from here.” I let him lean on myarm to stand. It’s only fifty feet to the seating area, but he’s still trembling and sweaty by the time we reach it.
There’s a scowl on his face as he sits and accepts the water bottle I offer him.
“It’s going to take time, Mac,” I say gently.
His throat bobs as he takes a deep drink, then stares out at the Tampa city skyline beyond the Bay waters. “At my age, time is not a given.”
I scoff as I unpack his Greek salad with grilled chicken. “You’re in Florida, which means you’ve got another twenty years before you’re considered old.”
He finally cracks a smile, his eyes reflecting the blue of the sky. “That so?”
“It’s the rule.” I hand him the plastic bowl then pick up a second water bottle and lean back in the firm cushion. I pull my sunglasses from where I’d shoved them in my hair and slip them on, then sigh. “What a beautiful day.” I don’t do this enough. Stop and actually notice my surroundings beyond scanning for threats. I do just that as I stroke the pink beaded bracelet on my wrist.
Rona and I made matching ones when we arrived in Florida. I can still see her tiny fingers patiently stringing them on the wire, her tongue poking out in concentration. It’s our physical connection to each other.
I feel his attention shift to me. “You got a fella, Doc?”
I get whiplash from the change of subject and almost choke on the sip of water I’d just taken. I turn to look at him. Even though his smile is gentle, there’s a serious glint in his eye.
“Why, Mac Donnelly, are you hitting on me?” I tease.
He barks out a laugh. “God no. One woman tellin’ me what to do is enough for me.” He takes a bite of the chicken and stares at the sky thoughtfully as he chews.
I wait, wondering where he’s going with this.
“He doesn’t hate you, ya know.” His voice is so soft, if the breeze hadn’t carried it to me, I would’ve missed it.
I go still. I want to ask who, to play dumb. But I can’t. I know he’s talking about Killian, and I won’t insult him. “Could have fooled me,” I say instead. I hear the bitterness in my own voice and am shocked.Why do I care?
He sighs. “It’s his story to tell. But… there is a story there, Doc.”
I turn to look at him, glad that my eyes are hidden behind the sunglasses because I feel tears prickling at the corners. I clear my throat. “I’m sure it’s none of my business.” He’s made that clear.
“Maybe one day it will be.” He shakes his head slightly and adds under his breath, “for his sake.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and turn my gaze back to the view. “So, he’s staying in Tampa then?”
“Aye. He’s always had this vision of a high-class gentlemen’s club on a yacht. Allesandro’s lettin’ him have at it.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “He showed me some photos of it today. It’s actually brilliant.”
A surge of adrenaline hits my heart. “A gentleman’s club? Like strippers?”
He eyes me curiously as he stabs his salad. “Dancers, aye.” He must think I’m judging his son because he continues trying to explain. “It’s not one of those seedy, sticky places mind you. High class. The lasses will be well paid and well protected.”
Well paid.
Hope rises like a sudden breeze. I put myself through medical school pole dancing at The Showroom, a mafia-owned strip club in New York. It’s how I knew Sandro’s father. This could be the answer to my prayers.
Then I remember it’s Killian I’ll have to ask for a job and my smile disappears.
Chapter 6
Killian
Back on The Lucky Sinner, I’m checking on the lads putting in the sound system in the walls. It’ll be synced through all three decks. A large hand lands on my shoulder. My brother is the only one who would dare touch me like that.
“Here for the grand tour?” I ask without turning around.
