Page 119 of Bombshell

“For me?” I look at the ivory envelope curiously. It’s not the first gift to show up directed at me. A number of business associates had sent well wishes and extravagant gifts leading up to today, likely suffering under the impression that I’m planning to return to my job after the wedding and the long rehabilitation period leading up to it. Third degree burns turned out to cause more than a little nerve damage.

“Still haven’t told anyone?” Luca asks, eyeing the card.

“Have you?” I ask. I’m not the only one planning to silently slip into retirement. At least, retirement from our less-than-legal pursuits.

“I’ve made it clear I’m being a bit more picky when it comes to clients,” he says with a grin, swigging from his whiskey glass. “Now, we just have to get that one to come on board.”

“Nope,” Jack calls, overhearing us. “I’m out. I’m a small business owner. I don’t have time for your shenanigans.”

“Shenaningans?” Luca repeats, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Archer.”

“Don’t act like you have a heart,” Jack says dryly. “You two will get into plenty of trouble on your own.”

They’ve been at it like hens since I’d first pitched my idea to them. Why wipe the slate entirely clean? There were plenty of people who could use our help and our skills. People who actually need us. Kids like me with shitty parents. Women being preyed on by assholes like Cyrus. The people that the law doesn’t know how to protect without breaking its own rules—a problem that none of us have.

Except Jack, apparently.

I ignore Jack and Luca’s debate and open the envelope. “You said this came with flowers?”

“Lots of flowers,” Kai says. “It looks like a florist exploded. It’s actually really romantic.”

“Romantic, huh?” Jack teases.

“I know what’s romantic. I make my living singing love songs.”

I slip the card out and read it, unable to hide my surprise when I see Nikolai’s name signed at the bottom. I’m not sure if it's a gift or a threat, but I suspect the former after his relationship advice.

There’s a knock at the door and Sutton’s dark head pokes inside. “Everyone decent?”

“Unfortunately,” Luca says.

“Terribly disappointing.” She joins him, passing me a folded piece of paper. “From your daughter.”

My daughter. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that. I love those words. I love hearing them. I love thinking them. Still, it’s surreal like someone turned a mirror on my life. Everything is there, but somehow it’s all changed, too. Upside down. Inside out. It should make me uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. It just feels...right.

I unfold it and smile. Judging by the looks of it, she’s drawn me along with her and Adair. Zeus, a near constant in all her pictures, is at our feet. The new house in the background.

“What’s that?” Luca asks, looking over my shoulder at a round blob in the air next to Ellie’s stick figure.

“No clue,” I admit.

“Your kid’s a shitty artist,” he says, taking a sip of whiskey.

“She’s five.”

“I’m just saying that her talents lie elsewhere. Maybe she’ll take after you.” He elbows me in the ribs.

“I hope not,” Jack says. His smile falters when he sees my face, and he changes the subject. “So, we’re losing the first of us. I think that means we need to open another bottle.”

“Go ahead.” I do my best to let go of the joke. Jack wasn’t being serious, but I do worry about it. I want Ellie to be safe no matter what. I might be willing to straddle the line between law and crime, but I’d prefer she stay safely on one side. Sutton’s laugh rises in the room and I watch her, dark head bowed sharing a joke with Luca, and wonder if I need to worry about her, too. Nothing could convince her to go back to New York.

“Stop corrupting my kid sister,” I call to Luca.

“As if he could corrupt me,” she says with a pout.

There’s another knock, and since everyone’s in here, I brace myself for the hurricane that Poppy’s become over the last few weeks. She’s already been here five times to make sure we’re on schedule. No amount of evidence seems to prove to her that we’re self-sufficient enough to put on tuxedos and wait in a room.

I open the door, ready to reassure her, only to discover Francie there, holding Zeus’s leash. “It’s nearly time. I thought we’d better get him ready.”