“Yeah, whatever. The way you talk about him, you might as well be together.”

Jerk. “Well, I’m flying to Chicago today.” After a beat, I added: “To meet his dad.”

“Wow, your fake relationship is getting pretty serious.”

I scowled at the humor in her voice. “I’m kind of losing my shit. This isn’t my territory. Do I stroke his ego? Should I be a yes-man?”

“No,” she said emphatically. “Just be polite. Be yourself.”

Wasn’t that what Luke had told me? Be yourself, Jessica. Try as I might, I couldn’t feel comfortable with the idea with Luke’s father. He was a bully and he reminded me too much of my foster parents. How would I handle it if he started bullying me? My face flushed with hot anger.

“You can handle a cranky, sick old man. Like most men his age, he probably just wants attention.”

But it wasn’t that simple. He wasn’t just a cranky old man; he was a cranky old man in charge of a multi-billion dollar industry. There were millions of dollars riding on this meeting. The fate of Luke’s finances depended solely on me. I wanted to laugh and laugh until I passed out. What if he didn’t like me?

Natalie could sense my disquiet. “Just don’t think about it, or you’ll mess up. I don’t know what to tell you.” There was a slight pause. “By the way—I almost forgot to tell you this, but I’ve been keeping tabs on all the tabloids about you and Luke.”

“Uh-huh.”

“They still have no idea who you are, but if you ask me it’s a matter of time before they track down who you are.”

“You can’t tell the media anything. I’m serious, Natalie. It’ll put everything in jeopardy. Tell Ben not to say anything, either.”

“I would never do that! Are you crazy?”

“They might offer you lots of money.”

“I don’t care. There’s no way I’d cave, but someone else who knows you might.”

“Like who?” I said dryly. As far as I was concerned, there was no one else who knew me. I never talked about my personal life to anyone. If they asked my coworkers at the soup kitchen, all they would be able to get from them is the city where I lived. “Listen, I’ve got to go. The car will pick us up soon. I’ll text you when I land in Chicago.”

“Alright. Good luck.”

I hung up the phone and clenched it in my palm, wiping my other hand on my jeans. Luke kept a solemn silence the whole ride to the airport. I kept looking at him, wanting to confess my fear of meeting his father, but the whitened look on his face stopped me. I didn’t want to make him feel worse, so I kept my mouth shut.

He barely spoke during the flight; he just sat still in his seat, his red-rimmed eyes staring straight ahead. I wanted to help him, but there was nothing I could say. So, I sat next to him and held his hand.

We were both exhausted when the plane landed, but Luke told me we would head straight to the hospice. In the back of my mind, I thought that we were playing right into his father’s hands. Wasn’t it unreasonable to expect Luke and I to hurry over there after a ten-hour flight? Whatever, it wasn’t my call.

My first thought was that it looked more like a vacation home than a hospice. There were atriums containing all different flora, regionally specific and temperature controlled. Workers pushed dying men and women in wheelchairs through them. The floors and walls exuded an aura of comfort, but underneath it all was the faint stench of cleaning supplies—of hospitals and death. Death lingered in this quiet place, and all of its cheery walls and colorful paintings couldn’t overshadow the dark gloom lingering in the halls.

No wonder he’s miserable. No one wants to die in a place like this.

I thought about it for a moment. Where would I like to die? Probably in the comfort of my apartment, with Natalie nearby. Yes, people wanted to be with their families when they died. Didn’t they?

I looked at Luke, who strode through the place with a look of perfect indifference. It was plain that he could care less about his father. Who would he want to be with?

He gave me a quick smile and my heart did a backflip.

“Don’t look so nervous, Jess.’ It’ll be okay.” The smile evaporated. “Well, actually, it might not be.”

Thanks for the vote in confidence.

We were meeting with the nurse charged with Giacomo’s case. I imagined that she would be strung out with stress at all the unreasonable demands Luke’s father made of her, but she turned out to be a chipper forty-something year old woman.

“Mr. Pardini, it’s great to finally meet you.”

He nodded. “How is he?”

“He keeps us busy,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Visitors keep him in good spirits.”

“Visitors?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. His nephews visit every month. Sometimes twice a month.”

I tried not to whimper as Luke crushed the bones of my hand. What did it mean?

“He’ll be so glad to see you. He talks about you all the time.”

Probably to complain about him.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

The nurse’s smile faltered at the tone of his voice, but she quickly recovered. “Well, it’s this way.”

She opened the door for us and I swallowed hard as I walked through first.

A venerable man sat upright on a hospital bed. He was so thin that deep round bruises covered his arms like a dark disease. I stood in the room, slightly breathless as I took in all the tubes and instruments quietly humming, keeping him alive. I was astonished at how similar they looked. Though his body was wasted, his face held the vestiges of great looks. His icy eyes, sharp and alert, cut through me as if he could see through my disguise. I trembled as his thin lips pulled into a grin, his eyes skull-like.

“Hi dad,” Luke said tonelessly as he approached the bed. “This is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

Somehow, my lips spasmed into something resembling a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Luke tells me that your parents are dentists. Do they approve of you flying around with a man you barely know?”

So, he was getting right to it. Fine. Bring it on.

“Dad,” Luke said in a sharp voice.

I held up a hand. “No, it’s fine. Your dad is just trying to protect you. It’s a valid question.” I smiled sweetly at Giacomo. “The answer is, I don’t know. I don’t talk to them anymore.”

“Ah!” he yelled in triumph. “I see. My son is the same way; he only talks to me when he wants more money—or when he wants to discuss work.”