“Not a chance in hell.” Antonia scrunches up her face. “There is something seriously wrong with you,” she says, but as she passes me she whispers, “Daddy.”
I groan, following closely behind her.Fuck me.“Next time I’m fucking you, I want you to scream that out.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”
“Fucking me or calling meDaddy?” I ask her.
“Both,” Antonia hisses. I don’t believe her. I know we’re doing that again. And soon.
Charlotte had the dinner catered. She wanted to cook but Louie wouldn’t let her. He doesn’t want her overdoing it, since she’s still recovering from a gunshot wound. She’s also still a little jittery.
Jazzy seems to be on cloud nine, filling her mouth with all the food and chatting away with Lailani, who looks extremely nervous and like she’d rather be anywhere else but this dinnertable right now. Sammie keeps looking at her. I guess that’d be enough to make most people nervous.
“Tío E, can I have my surprise? I ate all my veggies,” Jazzy says.
“Oh yeah, I have it here.” Emmanuel pulls out an envelope from his jacket. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” Jazzy bounces in her seat. She reaches across the table, grabs the envelope, rips it open, and pulls out a piece of paper.
“It’s a trust,” he says.
“What’s a trust?” she asks.
“Money for when you’re a grown-up.”
I look over my daughter’s shoulder and read the document. “You can’t be serious, Emmanuel. That’s over the top even for you,” I tell him. “She also doesn’t need it. You think I can’t take care of my daughter’s finances?”
“I know you can, but now she has more.” He shrugs.
“That’s more than any one person will ever need in a lifetime,” I tell him. That trust has ten million dollars in it.
“With interest, it’ll be even more than that when she’s twenty-one.” He smirks.
“I’m getting you a pony, and a ranch for it to live on,” Louie tells Jazzy.
“A pony, a real one?” she gasps.
“A real one, maybe even two or three. How many do you want?”
“How about none?” I offer. “What is she going to do with a pony, Louie?”
“Ride it, pet it. I don’t know. Don’t all little girls want a pony?” he asks Charlotte.
“I did,” she says.
“Did you have one?” I ask.
“No, my parents would never buy me one,” she replies.
“I’ll buy you a pony, babe,” Louie tells her.
“I don’t want one now.” Charlotte laughs, but I have no doubt that by the end of the week, she’ll be the proud owner of a brand-new pony.
“Please, Carlo, can I have a pony?” Jazzy asks me.
“You can have whatever you want,” I say.
She turns to Antonia. “Did you have ponies?”
