too dark to be a real Constantine, but he wants to be one. He wants to be part of Aunt Caroline’s family so much that he’s willing to overlook the small fact that we’re barely Constantines at all. We’re only Constantines when we’re embarrassing her. “For you.”
I take the flowers and step back to let him in. It’s only after he’s across the threshold that I come to my senses. Dad paces the living room, tugging at his hair, and Cash glares at the fireplace.
“Mr. Constantine,” Rick booms, and Dad throws a distracted glance at him. “Any plans for the weekend?”
“No. No. I’ll be working. I have some new ideas that could be useful.”
“I’m sure you do.” Dad is too busy hurrying for the steps to the workshop to see Rick’s sneer. As rich and smart as Rick is, he can’t control his own face when it counts. He’s a beat behind in turning the sneer back into an approving smile for my benefit, but it’s back in place when he turns his green eyes on me. “What about you, doll?”
“She’s busy.” Cash crosses his arms over his chest.
Rick laughs. “I don’t think you answer for her, buddy.”
If nothing else, being in this family has graced me with the ability to smile sadly at Rick while my brother bristles and my dad hides in his workshop.
“I am a little busy,” I admit. “We’re working some things out with one of my father’s recent inventions.”
Rick’s laugh is appropriate for a hilarious joke. “Oh, yeah? Did Caroline finally take pity and offer him some financing?”
“No,” I say, my voice breaking on the word. I shouldn’t share anything with Rick. We’re not close, but my emotions are too near the surface. Leo Morelli tore down all my defenses, and I’ve had no time to rebuild them.
His expression morphs into wariness. “What’s wrong?”
He seems sincere in the moment, and I’m so close to crumbling. “Nothing.”
“Haley.”
I shake my head, lips trembling. A tear falls down my cheek. Twenty-four hours. What’s going to happen to me in twenty-four hours? “Oh God, Rick. It’s so terrible.”
A sob breaks from me. It’s my brother who answers in a grim tone. “It’s the Morellis. That’s his new fucking investor. Leo.”
The concern drops from Rick’s face like a discarded mask. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“He’s not joking,” I say on a shuddery breath.
Rick’s skin turns pale. Almost as pale as mine. “You know why Caroline keeps that bulldog around? What’s his name—Ronan? Not for the Morellis. For traitors.”
The pit of my gut turns to solid ice. He’s right. I don’t have twenty-four hours to solve this problem. Twenty-four hours is long enough for Leo Morelli to wreak havoc on my essentially defenseless father. Twenty minutes is long enough.
And Caroline won’t need that much time to send Ronan after us.
We’re going to die. If I wait, we’re going to die.
Arriving on Leo’s doorstep early won’t guarantee our survival, but it will give us a chance. I pretend to be very taken with the flowers. “Oh, I know.” I shake my head, wiping away my tears. “You know how Dad is. It’s a shiny idea, and he’ll forget after an hour in his workshop.”
Rick frowns. “Then why are you crying?”
“That time of the month,” I say, forcing a smile.
Rick’s expression eases. His entire adulthood has been about getting in with the Constantines, hence this Friday-night visit. It was a gamble in the first place, coming here for me when he could be trying to get closer to Winston or Elaine. The last thing he needs is guilt by association. “You sure about that?”
I take a deep breath. Every second that passes is as loud as a tolling bell. “Listen. I need a ride somewhere.”
Here’s my gamble. Here’s my roll of the dice. I’m betting that Rick knows about the Morellis almost as well as he knows about the Constantines. That’s one surefire way to be in the in-crowd—to have information that other people want.
A pleased smile. “To dinner?”
“Wait here.” I push the flowers into his hands. “Choose a nice place for those. Please?”
It’s not kind, what I’m doing. I know that. My hands tremble while I go through my closet. I have a limited wardrobe compared to Caroline’s daughters, but it’s not a problem I can solve right now. The dress that comes to hand is black and sexy. The sexiest one I have. That’s what Leo Morelli will demand. I can’t show up in leggings and a hoodie and expect to