We both stare at each other for several minutes, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Roman breaks the silence. “You?” he asks, his dark brown eyes–the same eyes I stare into almost daily at home–bore into me with intensity.
“Me,” I confirm as I slide into the chair across from him.
“I did not see this one coming,” he says, keeping his dark eyes on me. I wait several heartbeats before I speak again.
“I’m not here about that, Roman,” I tell him.
“So, if not that, then what?” he asks as he rests his cuffed hands on top of the table between us.
“Carly.”
“Carlina? What about her? Is she okay?” he asks, slight panic marring his features.
“She’s fine,” I confirm. “I need to tell you something. I met Carly once before; back before I started working for you. She and I spent a night together,” I add. The look on his face tells me exactly what he’s thinking. No father wants to hear anything about his daughter’s sex life. Images of having this conversation about Natalia in the future practically make me see red.
“You know my Carlina like that,” he says, looking for confirmation to his underlying question.
“Yes,” I confirm. “I walked away, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t see her again until I showed up at your house and she was there. I met her two years ago, Roman.” I sit there, waiting for the words–their meaning–to sink in. It takes only a few minutes before the realization sets in.
“Natalia?” he whispers.
“Mine.” The man stares at me for several minutes before I continue. “I’m not here because of the job. I’m here because of Carly and Natalia.”
“You love them.” Again, it’s a statement, not a question.
“With everything I have.”
“Well, this does make things a little more interesting, does it not? Does she know?”
“About my real job? No.”
“How do you think she’s going to take this news?” he asks, those manicured eyebrows already sky high, a slight smirk on his face.
“Probably not very well. As a criminal sitting in front of me, I owe you nothing. But as her father, I owe you the courtesy of telling you that I will protect her and make sure she and Natalia are okay.”
Roman stares at me for several more minutes as if sizing me up and gauging my sincerity. “You love her, no?” he asks again.
No hesitation. “Yes. Both of them.”
“Then as a father, I couldn’t be happier and ask for more for mi hija. As a criminal sitting in front of you, I respect the job you’ve done, though I wish it wouldn’t have turned out like this. Can I ask a favor?” I nod my head after a pregnant pause. “Can I see her?”
“I don’t think that’s for the best right now.”
“Please, Blake,” he says. And then smiles before adding, “If that really is your name.”
“It is. I’ll leave the option up to her,” I tell the older man before standing up.
“Take care of mi hija. I trust you to love her and protect her,” he tells me from his position on the chair.
“I will.” With that, I turn and walk out of the room.
“I have to see her,” I tell Luke who is waiting in the hallway.
“And what are you going to say?” he asks.
“The truth,” I say while rubbing the back of my achy neck. “I just wish I knew where to start.” How do you tell the woman you love that you were responsible for the arrest and resulting impending incarceration of her father? Or that you’ve been lying about your identity since day one? Yeah, this is going to be buckets of fun.
“Come on, Romeo. The Tahoe’s out front, and I’ll run you home. You can shower first and then head over to her place,” he says, slapping my back as we head towards the door. “Don’t argue with me. You stink, man, and you definitely don’t want to go over there to plead your case right now reeking like ass.”
Leave it to Luke to finally make me laugh after almost twenty-four hours of hell. Because that’s where I’ve been since I left Carly’s place yesterday morning. I follow him down the long hallway and out to the waiting Tahoe. He tries to make small talk the entire trip to my shitty apartment, but I’m just not with him. My mind is elsewhere; playing out all the different ways I should approach Carly. As I slip into the dingy apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and dress in clean clothes, I’m still not one ounce closer to having the answers that I need.