We separated, and I placed the cake on the table, opened the lid, and pulled out the plastic knife, two forks, and napkins. I smiled in triumph because Phil was so distracted by my dress that he never thought to check inside the container.
“How’d you smuggle that in?” Hannibal’s lips curled into a grin. “Smart girl.”
“I’m irresistible.” It was meant as a joke, but my dad’s gaze shot to Phil.
“He touch you?”
“He got a little handsy with the security check,” I admitted. “But I stopped him from trying to get underneath my dress.”
Hannibal locked eyes with Phil, and the guard squirmed, moving backward until his back met the wall. Something passed between them, and Phil’s chin dipped. He wasn’t stupid. My father could probably have him killed for pulling what he did.
But I wasn’t going to have anyone’s blood on my hands. “Let it go. Please.”
Hannibal nodded. “Only because it’s your birthday.” His gaze finally pulled from Phil and returned to me. His features softened. “Happy birthday, baby girl. Got you a gift.”
A gift? From inside prison?
“Uh, how?”
“I have my ways.” He reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulled out a slip of paper, placed it down, and slid it across to me. “Take a look.”
I picked it up, staring at the note. It stated the name of the company I got my car loan through, the total, and a payoff date of today. My eyes widened. “Dad?”
“Yeah. I paid off your loan. You don’t need saddled with that much debt.”
“It’s too much!” I owed twenty-two thousand dollars.
“Consider it more than a gift. A beginning, baby girl. Restitution. I wasn’t always there for you the way I should have been. Took me gettin’ locked up to realize my mistakes.”
“Dad.”
“No, Rachel. It’s time I did right by you. Let me. Please.”
It was the broken please, quickly covered by a hard swallow, that cemented my acceptance. I nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Let’s have some of that cake. Looks delicious.”
I cut him a massive slice and placed it on a napkin, holding out a fork. “You get the first bite.”
His lips twitched. “All right.” He dug into it, lifting a generous bite to his mouth. He blinked as he chewed and tilted his head. “Damn, baby girl. You’ve gotten good at baking.”
I beamed with pride and cut my own slice, taking a small forkful and nearly moaning with pleasure as the chocolate filled my mouth. There was something special about homemade cakes, even if they came from a box. Maybe it was the care and love that always went into them, but I believed they were special. My mother always made my cakes growing up. It was a tradition I continued with Rylee.
And my daughter? Her favorite was chocolate fudge, just like mine.
We enjoyed our slices, and then I grabbed two cups of water for us to wash them down. Once I covered the container and slapped the lid on, I turned to my dad, wondering if he would finally tell me the real story about why he got locked up.
Sure, I knew what the public records said, but I also knew my father was incredibly clever. He didn’t get caught because he was careless. “You know I’m going to ask.”
He nodded. “I do.”
“Are you going to tell me this time?”
“If I do, will you drop it? Or go on some silly mission to try and free me and get the charges dropped?”
Wow. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.
“I can’t promise a damn thing, Dad.”
