Billionaire Boys Club 5 : Romancing the Billionaire(92)

When Jonathan finally turned into a parking lot, Violet's heart gave a painful little clench. "We're here," Jonathan said quietly.

She nodded, frozen.

"Do you know where he's buried?"

She stared at the rows of gravestones and flowers, and then gave Jonathan a mutely pleading look.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Wait here, love. I'll go ask."

She waited in the car, clutching the tablet PC to her chest. The day was a gorgeous one, and the cemetery quite pretty. In the distance, an elderly couple walked the rows. For some reason, it made Violet incredibly nervous. It wasn't death itself; her mother had passed when Violet was twenty-one, a miserable drunk to her very last moment.

Violet was terrified of what they'd find at her father's grave and at the end of the scavenger hunt.

She and Jonathan had lived in bliss for the past few weeks. There was some schedule juggling, of course-they both had jobs. There were the usual growing pains of two people moving into a new place together. But God, she was happy. So, so happy. And she was terrified that whatever they found at her father's grave would somehow ruin this fragile happiness and destroy it forever.

She didn't count on anything less from Dr. Phineas DeWitt.

Her throat was dry when Jonathan left the on-site funeral home, hands in his pockets, and he came to her car door and opened it. "Shall we go?"

"Sure." She didn't sound sure, though. She sounded terrified. But when she got out of the car, Jonathan's fingers laced with her own and she felt a little better.

They walked through rows of gravestones, heading to the back of the cemetery. There, at the end of a row, close to a tree, was a long, narrow stone marker shaped like a famous obelisk-Cleopatra's Needle. Seeing that, Violet started to laugh. "You're kidding me."

Jonathan smiled at her. "Count on your father to go out in style. Look," he said, pointing at the top. "He's even got his name in a cartouche."

Sure enough, her father's name was spelled out in English, then below it, a cartouche with Egyptian hieroglyphs. "Aren't those only for royalty?" Violet asked, amused.

"Like that ever stopped your father?"

He had a point. If anyone thought he was entitled to everything the world had to offer, it was Dr. Phineas DeWitt. Smiling, Violet studied the front of the obelisk. It had his birth date and date of death, and instead of a family platitude, it read "The Garden of Love" poem again:

I went to the Garden of Love,

And saw what I never had seen:

A Chapel was built in the midst,

Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,

And Thou shalt not, writ over the door;

So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,

That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,




 

 

And tomb-stones where flowers should be:

And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,

And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

"That must have had special meaning for him," Violet said softly.

Jonathan's hand squeezed hers in sympathy. "For all his faults, DeWitt had deeper waters than I think he ever liked to let on. He wanted everyone to think he was supremely in control of everything, but sometimes I wonder." He turned to Violet. "How are you feeling?"

She considered her father's headstone. It felt odd to think of him buried here. She hadn't even come to his funeral because she'd been so full of brimming resentment for him. Now, that seemed selfish. "I honestly don't know. Part of me still thinks he was a rotten man, and part of me . . ."

"Still loves him because he was your father?"

"I guess." Her voice was thick.

Jonathan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. "We can leave, you know. Whatever he's holding over our heads isn't worth it. We can turn around and get back in the car."

She buried her head against his chest, enjoying the warmth and strength that he offered. "But your stele? And the journals? I know you wanted both."

Violet felt him shrug. "There will be other steles, other journals."

They both knew that was a lie, but it was sweet of him to offer. She reluctantly pulled away from Jonathan's comforting embrace and shook her head. "We've come this far, haven't we? Might as well go the full distance."

He rubbed her back. "All right. Do you want to do the honors?"

"No. You can." She wasn't sure that she could. For some reason, she was feeling all emotional.

Jonathan gave her another squeeze, and then he walked to the back of her father's obelisk gravestone. He glanced around and gave her a rueful look. "Mind keeping a lookout? I'd hate to have someone come after me and wonder what I'm doing."