Page 29

Story: Birthright

Her expression darkens as she plants her palms on her waist. "No," she declares with feigned confidence that amuses me. Isshe really under the impression I wouldn't press her up against the counter right here, with her worker watching, to remind her exactly who calls the shots?

"Olivia." I click my tongue.

"He doesn't know you!" she spits back.

She's being protective. Every time this version of her comes out, it's when she's worried about her grandfather. I take a step forward, and she takes one back, until her spine hits the edge of the wooden bar and my palms land on either side, caging her in. Her gaze flicks to Joey's position at my back, but I can tell the guy recognizes me, and I'm not concerned about him stepping in.

"Olivia," I repeat, and her eyes dart back to mine. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

"You'll scare him," she says, not backing down. "He doesn't?—"

Instinctively, one of my hands reaches for her face, forcing her to look at me. "I won't. I understand his condition."

She swallows hard, my eyes darting to her throat to watch the motion. She's frustrated with me; I can tell by the way her palms are clenched and her jaw is taut. But she's pausing her fight, probably because she knows she won't win.

"Come on." I step back, extending my hand to her. She eyes it suspiciously, but begrudgingly takes it. I gesture for her to lead the way and follow as she takes me upstairs to the apartment above the bar.

She peeks inside the door, looking around the small apartment before she calls out for her grandfather.

"Grandpa?"

There in the living room, sitting in an old recliner, sits Gino Marchese. He turns his head from the TV show he's watching and looks at Olivia with confusion. The nurse I hired, Kelly, is on the sofa.

"Look, Gino." She smiles brightly. "It's your granddaughter."

Olivia moves to him, kneeling next to his recliner and taking his hand in hers. "How are you?"

He ignores her question, his eyes finding me. "Sal?" he asks. "When did you get back?"

There's a pained look on Olivia's face when she twists to look at me. This is what she was afraid of? An old man with a bit of confusion.

"Just now," I answer. No use in explaining to him that I'm not his dead son.

Olivia exhales a breath and turns her attention back to her grandfather.

"How's Livy?" he asks, his focus still on me. "You gotta go to Canada and see her." He groans. "I keep telling you this. It's not good for a girl to grow up without a father."

Interesting. So Olivia didn't have a good relationship with her father? I make a mental note to pry into this later.

"I'm right here." She squeezes his hand. "It's me, Olivia."

He glances down at her, still confused. "Rachel?" He calls her by the wrong name, and Olivia looks like she's been slapped, as if it physically pains her for him not to remember. "You're here? Where's Olivia?"

"She's downstairs with Joey," Olivia answers, fighting through her pain to play pretend.

"Are you two getting back together?" This question is for me.

"Yep," I answer, moving closer to Olivia so I can place my palm on her shoulder. "We're together." I feel Olivia's body tense under my hand.

"Good, good." His lips lift into a soft smile. "Olivia needs a happy home life. You take care of her, Sal." Gino speaks sternly to me, gesturing toward Olivia, and I wonder if this is a situation that has played out in the past, him urging his son to be a better father.

"I'll take care of her," I tell him, and I mean it.

Olivia is mine now.

And I take care of what's mine.

SEVENTEEN