Page 174 of My Heart Still Beats
I swallow. “What happened to the daughter?”
“Look at her date of birth.”
I scan the document. “She’s about to turn eighteen.”
Marjorie nods. “I bet she would be beside herself if a certain billionaire covered her college tuition.”
I widen my eyes. “Is she going to college?”
Marjorie shrugs. “How should I know that? But she’s the age. You could reach out to the family, perhaps under the guise of trying to serve underprivileged kids. You could start a whole foundation in your name, and she could be your first beneficiary.”
I stare at the picture. Tascha is—or was, at least—a cute kid. Chubby cheeks, dark curly hair, and eyes that look just like—
Christ.
They look just like her father’s. You never forget the eyes of a man you watched die.
I put the picture down. “Is the mother still around?”
“As far as I know.” Marjorie slides another document my way. “Her contact information is on here.”
I grab it. “Thanks, Marjorie.”
She looks me dead in the eye. “Don’t thank me for anything. You didnotget that information from me, you understand? The paper fell off my desk, and you snagged the information while I wasn’t looking.”
I nod. “Got it.”
Marjorie rises. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, but I know you’ll do right by this, Ben.”
We rise as well.
I hold out my hand to her, but she declines to shake it. Can’t say as I blame her.
“Thank you,” I say.
Once Braden and I are outside the building, he turns to me. “Are you going to help out that girl?”
I pause for a moment and then nod. “Yeah. She’s half an orphan because of me.”
“Ben, the father wasn’t even in the picture. Her life isn’t any different for her father being dead.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know that. Maybe he was after that fifty grand to give her a better life.”
Braden rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I’m sure it was that and not to get his hands on a shit-ton of heroin.”
I hold my hand up. “There’s no way of knowing either way. And hell, if I can put a little good out into the universe to counteract the errors of my past, I’m going to do it.”
Braden wrinkles his forehead at me but then smiles. “You’re a good man, Benji.”
“Thanks, Brady.” I give him a quick hug. “You too.”
He breaks the embrace, and his smile fades. “I guess we wait for the rags to report on this.”
“I guess so.”
“You sure you don’t want me to pay off Conrad?”
“It won’t do any good. Ramirez and David Conrad are already going down, and they’ll sing like canaries just to get the focus off them.”
