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LIA

M y heart was singing as I approached my father, at the end of the line of well-wishers he’d accumulated on his way in, with Rio at his side.

And when he saw me, he truly smiled—and I suddenly knew that everything would be okay.

“Lia!” he exclaimed, as I flew into his arms. “You’re breathtaking!

You look just like your mother!” He pressed his mouth to the side of my head to kiss.

“Don’t worry about a thing. We’re handling it,” he whispered—and I felt like my long on-going nightmare of being Marcus’s bride-to-be was through.

“I know,” I said, leaning back, and pleased. The way everything had gone down meant that my reputation was relatively intact. “Happy birthday! I got you a present!”

He looked me over, as if I could hide anything in my sheath dress. “Where?”

“Rhaim. He said he’d sing.”

My father guffawed, and Rio snickered.

“Like hell I did,” Rhaim said, coming up, to take my father’s hand. “Happy birthday, old man. My present to you is this fucking IPO,” he said, and my father clapped his shoulder.

“I’ll take it,” he said, then looked around, taking a glass of champagne from a server.

“Are you all having a good time?” he asked the surrounding crowd, and got cheers for a response.

“I don’t feel like speechifying tonight—let’s dance!

” he shouted, and then took my arm and pulled me to the dance floor.

“Oh, no,” I said, balking a little, as I realized just what he had in store.

“Come on,” he said with a tsk. “Humor me.”

I gave him a look, then gathered up my skirt to join him. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?” I asked him, as he gestured to the band, and a song from his era came on.

Frank Sinatra’s ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ began, and I laughed. “I don’t know the Charleston, Dad,” I teased, picking an old dance out of a hat, and he snorted.

“Shush. Just follow your old man,” he said, putting a hand at my hip, and giving me the other to hold.

“Where’d you find all this energy?” I asked, following his lead.

“Painkillers, mostly. And gin.”

“Dad!”

“I’m serious—I dosed up awhile ago. Timed everything perfectly. And after this, I’ll get to sit down for the rest of the night.” He pulled me close—and I could see where someone skillful had put make-up on him, covering the circles beneath his eyes, and making his cheeks look less sunken.

“Am I…really free?” I asked him, because I couldn’t help myself. And because I wouldn’t believe it until I heard him say it personally.

“From that marriage? One hundred percent.”

The way he said it though… “That makes it sound like there might be others.”

“Enzo called. He said he found me a new oncologist. Guy talked my ear off all morning—tonight’s going to be the last time I get drunk, because I’m going on new meds tomorrow.”

“What?” I gasped, as he spun me. “Really?”

“Really. No guarantee they’ll work, but—I have to keep living now, don’t I? Till I find someone else for you.”

It took all of the poise I’d ever had not to immediately trip and break an ankle. “What?” I said again. “No?—”

“Yes,” he demanded, giving me a knowing head shake. “I shouldn’t have aimed so high. Why match you with a senator, when I could get you with a mayor?”

“I’m not just some mare you can hand around!” I hissed.

“Of course not,” he said. “But—do you know what kind of power you’d have, being the wife of the mayor of this city?”

“But—”

“I can’t give you Corvo, Lia,” he said, as the song wound down, taking my head in both his hands.

“And we both know why,” he went on—and I did, oh I did, as I saw the burn scar on his neck that shone in the spotlight.

“But I can give you this,” he said, settling another kiss upon my brow.

“Let me give you this,” he said, resting his forehead against mine, and gently smiling.

I compressed internally like the center of a dying sun. I wanted to scream at him and run away—but I couldn’t—not tonight of all nights, and not here, and not when he thought he’d live long enough for me to be angry at him later.

“Okay,” I whispered, barely more than a squeak, before kissing his cheek and bolting away.