Denise Walker stared at the man on her screen, studying him. Years of law school and years of practicing in her field had provided her great insight when it came to dealing with people. Their motivations, their principles and their price. Her clients all had their quirks, but none had presented such a unique set of requirements as those of Mr. Nolan Ross. He was once low-maintenance, his needs only being those of any standard celebrity: she was to ensure his privacy from intrusive tabloids, keep any legal trouble NolCorp may face out of the media and screen any and all people who would enter his business dealings and social circle. All of that had been prior to Flight 197 and Americon Initiative and his involvement with the Clarke family. Now, in the space of two years she had essentially orchestrated a kidnapping, identity fraud and the international transport of a minor, participated in the bribery of law enforcement and espionage, not to mention whatever mischief Mr. Ross was getting up to that she didn't even know about yet.
Which had brought her to today, to yet another round of bribery - this time of a corrections officer - and the use of some prototype technology that Denise was sure could be used for unconstitutional surveillance if it fell into the wrong hands.
Yet she still persisted to do more than what was asked of her, to go above and beyond for Mr. Ross. He believed in her and he needed her help in a way that her other clients did not. He was only trying to reach his friend in prison, not so much for himself, but for the man's daughter. It was a strange family drama set under the shadow of this massive crime.
But Denise could only focus on the objective set before her.
She knew the basics from the file that Mr. Ross had compiled and provided to her; based on his findings, she agreed that Mr. Ross had made the correct choice.
This man was the way to reach David Clarke.
Robert Gamble was in his late 30s, with a shaved head and a thick dark beard. He was heavy in the middle but his arms and shoulders showed strength gained from his time in both the military and as a police officer. His days of patrolling the streets and chasing down suspects were over, however. Mr. Gamble had fallen on hard times.
Which had lead him here.
"He wouldn't be here if he hadn't already made up his mind." Nolan assured her as they watched Mr. Gamble on the security monitor as he found his way through Denise's building and up to her office. Nolan had been especially pushy to reach David lately, though he'd been less than forthcoming on why. He'd only told Denise that it was imperative, now more than ever, that he find a way to get David to talk to Emily.
As always when it came to Nolan, it all came back to the girl.
"You sound so sure."
"I am sure."
Denise clenched her jaw. "He'll have questions."
"Of course. He's smart." Nolan affixed the tiny mic clip to his shirt. He knew his idea was a risky one, but what choice did they have? "It's a safe bet that he's looked into you already, he may even have worked it out that I'm the one behind this."
"I will never betray our attorney-client privilege." She assured him.
The idea of Denise betraying him was laughable. "I know you wouldn't." He put a hand on the woman's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Denise, you have been more than just a lawyer - you've been a friend. Thank you for this, and for everything else."
He moved to the door. He would be monitoring the exchange from the office next door. "Remember, right when he comes in, just open the clamshell so we can record him and it will disable any recording he may be trying to make."
Denise eyed the clam figurine on her desk, Nolan's latest stroke of genius. Similar to Emily's whale, the clam was an everyday office ornament that no one would think looked out of place. In reality it was a recording device with the extra feature of disabling outside equipment. It did have the unfortunate effect of pushing all of her office equipment offline, but she wouldn't need any of that for this meeting.
Like all the best negotiations, this would be done in person.
"Mr. Gamble, please come in. Thank you for meeting with me."
"This isn't what I expected." He said after shaking her hand. Denise noted his firm grip and dry hand. This man was not nervous. He wasn't intimidated in the least by the obvious wealth of her office or by her prestige. He wasn't a man who would be cowed. He was here to find out what was on offer.
She could work with that.
He sat in the chair across from her desk and she retook her chair, discreetly clicking the clamshell on her desk. The electric hum from her computer and phone was immediately silenced. "What did you expect?"
"Oh...I don't know. Meeting a guy in a parking garage with a suitcase full of cash in the middle of the night, maybe." He shrugged, laughing.
Denise allowed herself a smile - this wasn't her first such encounter, but she did find a touch of humor at how mundane it was compared to the cloak and dagger shadow games of the movies. She spread her hands and returned his shrug. "I don't know why you would think that. No one is asking you to interfere in an election or carry out an assassination. All we want to do is get a message to a particular inmate."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Who is 'we'?"
Denise pressed on, "An inmate that we know only a select few correction officers have access to, yourself included."
"Oh yeah, and how did you get this information?"
"Of the three select officers, we know that you have more than a few outstanding debts. Medical bills for your wife, your father's special needs, a son who will be college-bound in under two years..."
"Don't talk about my family." He warned.
"And you have done the best that you could, as a husband and father. As a man. But your best hasn't been enough, has it?"
"Look, I didn't come here to be insulted or for you to run down all my bills. Tell me what you want."
"All we ask is that you get this to David Clarke."
Denise slid a small, flat object across her desk. To Mr. Gamble's sharp blue eyes, what she had just given him was a blank credit card. He lifted it; the card, for lack of a better word, was heavier than he expected it to be. It was smooth, flat, and dark gray. It was rigid, inflexible. There were no markings on the card, nothing to identify what it was or where it had been manufactured. That was by design, he was sure.
"What is this thing?"
"I can assure you that it's nothing dangerous. It's not a poison or an explosive. It will not aide Mr. Clarke in committing suicide or self-harm, nor will it aide him in making an escape. It will not cause harm to you or any other security personnel."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"I've given you all the answers that you are entitled to. Again, this item is not dangerous and cannot be used in an escape attempt. All we ask is that you provide it to Mr. Clarke."
"In exchange for what?"
Nolan's voice echoed in her ear, quiet and urgent. "Denise. We have him. Give him whatever he asks for. And then some!"
"In exchange, all of your debt - the medical bills, the vehicles, your mortgage - everything, will be cleared. Your son's education will be taken care of, consider it a full-ride scholarship to any school of his choosing. Your father will receive the best of care, a top-tier facility or a live-in therapeutic nurse, the choice is yours. In addition to this, two million dollars will be deposited into a separate account we will provide access to. All we ask is that you provide this item now, and perhaps other items in the near future, to Mr. Clarke."
There was a long silence. Nolan watched from his monitor, holding his breath. Denise kept her face composed, ignoring the hard pounding in her chest.
Mr. Gamble was very still as he thought it over. The constant pressure and stress, the mountain of debt that he wouldn't be able to pay off even if he worked every day for the rest of his life - and those debts were only going to grow with time. There would be no relief. There would be no retirement.
The answer to all of his problems was right in front of him but...he had spent years in the military, an environment where integrity was key, and he had also been a police officer - he knew the laws he was being bribed to break. It was a terrible conflict in his heart, a massive struggle - but what were his principles in the face of his family's need?
His wife had fought her way through breast cancer ten years ago and now she had to work just as hard as he did to face down all that debt. How was that fair? His father had raised Robert and his sister after their mother died, worked every day of his life, didn't the man deserve the best of care now that he had grown feeble in his old age? It was care that Robert couldn't afford on his own. And his son...the boy was smart and worked so hard and he could have a real future if only his father could provide it.
Robert took in a deep breath. He hated that he had been brought to this, but as much as he hated and resented the obvious wealth that surrounded him, it would serve as a godsend to the people he held most dear.
He stood and nodded. "I'll do it."
The man looked Denise square in the eye and reached his hand forward. Denise shook his hand, but he held fast to her and squeezed so hard that it was almost painful.
"Understand me. If this leads back to me, I'll cooperate with the investigation and direct right back it to you."
It was clear. They had won.
Denise nodded. "Understood. We'll be in touch."
Robert Gamble nodded once and took the card off the desk, then stood and strode from the office.
Not a moment after Mr. Gamble had cleared the floor, Nolan rejoined her. His eyes were bright, his expression serious. Denise tapped her nails on the surface of her desk. Her hand still felt hot from Mr. Gamble's hard handshake. "What now, Mr. Ross?"
The man nodded once and crossed her office to look out the window. The city spread out below them, and somewhere in the population of millions, there was a prison guard drowning in unfortunate debt, a man who held Nolan's ace. Mr. Gamble had supposedly accepted the situation, taking the card with him in the intent to give it to David.
A lot could happen between now and Mr. Gamble's shift on Monday morning, however.
The card could malfunction, Mr. Gamble could lose his nerve - hell, Mr. Gamble could lose the card!
All of these were very real possibilities, but Nolan refused to cross those bridges until they were upon him. The offer to Mr. Gamble was too much for him to risk losing over a last-minute crisis of conscience or carelessness with the card itself. No. No, Mr. Gamble would go to work on Monday and slip the card to David.
It would happen, it had to happen.
"Now, we may finally get some answers."
David stared at the ceiling and, as he had done every day since this nightmare began, he counted the ceiling tiles. Then, he counted their corners. Then, the speckles within the tiles themselves. Five dozen tiles, 240 corners, thousands of speckles. The same today as it had been everyday since his transfer to this prison the year before. He preferred his cell in Lockhart, there had been half a dozen more tiles in the ceiling to count.
He sat on the edge of his bed and started doing tricep dips. Body-weight exercises were a prison staple, something every prisoner did to burn energy and stave off boredom. He had lost so much weight since being arrested. Too much. He hardly recognized himself any longer. Thinner, more muscular, his face was joyless, his eyes were hard. He was tired, so tired all the time.
He often felt that his brain had gone numb, his thoughts no longer furious. He simply felt...drained. He felt empty of emotion, and perhaps it was easier to live without it. He didn't hope, he didn't rage, he had simply accepted that this was his new reality. Four walls, a bed, five dozen tiles. This was his life, and it would be until the end of his days. Better that he live in this cage and take the blame than endanger his family.
Yes, this was for the best.
He paused in his movements as something was slid under the door.
He forgot his count and moved to go pick it up. He frowned. It was a hard, dark gray...credit card? For a moment he wondered if this was a new prison program, maybe an inspectable item or a way to keep better track for accountability. He turned it over in his hands a few times and to his shock, the card blinked and all at once, he knew what it was.
Nolan's face came into soft focus, his voice cutting and scratchy over this tiny screen.
"David...the window...as close as...get-"
He didn't understand why the recording was telling him to move, but he did what Nolan said and as he did so, the picture on the screen came into better focus.
"There, that's better. David, can you hear me?"
He realized this wasn't another of Nolan's tiny screen recordings - somehow, that insane genius bastard had created a...a window, a tiny live window to the outside world where they could communicate in real time!
"Nolan! Nolan, how did you do this?"
"I'm a genius, but you knew that the day we met, so why are you surprised?"
"You'll never stop surprising me."
Nolan appeared touched by the compliment, but he schooled his face into true seriousness. "The trial, your confession, why?"
David immediately looked at the door, to where anyone - an agent of the Initiative, perhaps - could be listening. "Nolan - Nolan, I can't talk-"
"The guard won't come to check in on you for another hour, and this link is secure. No one is listening - David, please, for Amanda, you have to tell me what happened."
"..."
From his home office, Nolan leaned forward. Had he been with David in person, he would have taken his hands into his own and knelt down on his knees to beg the man for answers. He needed to know. He deserved to know why David had abandoned them. "David, I'm begging you, please. For Amanda."
"Victoria...she came to see me, with our baby. Our daughter, Charlotte. She'd been on the run, terrified by the Initiative. She said they'd killed Conrad and she'd hidden her son with people she trusted. I had to confess, Nolan. If I didn't, the Initiative would keep chasing her until they finally caught up with her and then God only knows what-"
At this, Nolan could already see what had happened. "My God, you really don't know, do you?"
"What? What happened? Is she-?"
"Victoria and Conrad were at your trial, David. They've spoken to the press, given interviews from their Hamptons manor. Hell, that baby, supposedly your daughter, was christened Charlotte Grayson a few months ago at St. Patrick's. It was all over the media."
David listened to Nolan's words, but it was difficult for the sudden rise of heat over his body and the muffled effect over his friend's words. David shook his head and straightened his back before his knees buckled. He struggled to refocus on Nolan. "What...?"
"I know you didn't do it - there's no way you were involved. It was Victoria, she told you to confess?"
"No...no, she didn't." David licked his lips and tried to remember. It was difficult. All of his days ran together. Anything outside of the prison routine was like trying to recall details from a distant dream. "She came to see me in Lockhart with the baby, she was...she had on a wig, a disguise, she was...she was...I thought if I confessed then the Initiative would stop, that she would be safe."
"You confessed for Victoria - did you forget about Amanda?" Nolan demanded. He surprised himself with the question, but his temper was rising. David had thrown himself on a sword to protect a woman who had stabbed him in the back. "What good would confessing do for her, when you'd be in jail for the rest of your life? Is that why you refused visitation?"
"I'm trying to keep you all safe, damn it!"
"Being a martyr won't help anyone! All you've done is alienate Amanda - I mean, you have no idea what -" Nolan stopped before he said too much. Amanda's horrible panic attack, the strain on her and Nolan's relationship, her sleeping with God only knew who while in school, it all tied back to David condemning himself. "The Graysons are running free while you've been here, refusing all the help I've tried to provide you. David, what have you been telling your lawyer?"
David felt nauseous. Had it all been an act? Victoria bringing their baby to him, her claim that the Initiative was hounding her after having killed Conrad? All lies? All a manipulation to get him to confess, to distract the public from what Grayson Global was doing?
It couldn't be.
It just couldn't, because if it was, then that meant-
"Nothing. I just...after I confessed, my attorney said there wouldn't be another trial, just a sentencing hearing. It's coming up. I don't know when. The days all run together in here." He leaned back against the wall and braced his knees to keep himself upright. He was suddenly sweaty and cold at the same time. He eyed the toilet, sure he would be sick.
"You have to tell your lawyer that you lied - David, it'll be an immediate life sentence if not an exception for the death penalty, you know that!"
"I...can't."
"Who the hell are you protecting?!" Nolan screamed at him. "The Graysons set you up, Victoria used that damn baby to make you believe the Initiative was after her! David, the Graysons probably are the damn Initiative!"
"No. Not Victoria. You don't know that. She didn't...Conrad has to be a part of it, and there are others inside Grayson Global, but you're wrong about Victoria. You're wrong about her." David could feel hot tears tracking down his face, but he didn't care.
Nolan clenched his fist and slammed it onto his desk. "She set you up, David. Conrad and Grayson Global and Victoria, they're all in on it - they either created Americon Initiative or they all partnered together to frame you for 197. Think. Do you have any idea why?"
At that, David barked out a fake laugh. "I have about a billion reasons why, Nolan. Grayson Global insures the airline that 197 was a part of. They...profited off of the disaster, then gained themselves positive publicity by helping the victims and as a cherry on top, Conrad was able to get the Initiative to frame me for it. Payback for Victoria, maybe."
"You think Conrad and the Initiative made her put on a disguise and shove that baby in your face?"
David closed his eyes, feeling the weight of Nolan's words. "Conrad must've threatened her. Maybe he knows that Charlotte is my daughter."
"Oh, who cares about Charlotte?!" Nolan was ready to tear out his hair - never in all his years of knowing the man had David ever been so stubborn, so willfully blind. Was this what love did to a man? Make him so...so stupid that he'd ignore what was staring him in the face? Nolan was sure he'd never been like this while he'd been with Marco - perhaps they hadn't truly been in love after all. "Do you have any idea what this has done to Amanda? No, of course you don't - you torpedoed your defense and rejected her. She's so...you wouldn't even recognize what this has turned her into, David."
Again, Nolan surprised himself. His own words rang true.
Amanda, Emily, had changed so much from the girl she'd been before 197. She was pushing herself hard to succeed in school and pushing herself to grow up too fast. Nolan had seen her furious, cold, resentful, rebellious, irreverent, blank and defiant. Very rarely had Nolan seen her appear happy. But how could she be, when her father had thrown his life away?
Nolan took a deep breath, ran a hand over his face. He glanced at the wall clock. "David. Listen, I'll send my lawyer to meet with you, and you have to allow visitation again. I'll bring Amanda home so you can-"
"No, Nolan, please don't do that!"
"But her semester is almost over-"
"It's not that, just...I don't know what might happen to her." David protested. He was still so afraid for Amanda, but somehow his fear felt...diminished.
On his end, Nolan could see his friend's weariness. He was furious with the man, frustrated. But Nolan was ever compassionate. He refused to go in for the kill, but still he persisted. "David, we need to stop kidding ourselves. The Initiative isn't coming for her. Open up visitation again. Your daughter needs you."
Emily had just come out of the shower when Nolan's alert chimed on her computer. She had put on her robe and took her seat at the desk, somewhat chagrinned to have him see her like this - bare-faced with her hair still dripping. Still, if he was contacting her outside of their usual schedule...
"Hi Nol-"
"I got to him, Ems!"
To Emily, Nolan looked excited, perhaps erratic. His eyes were bright, his hair was messy.
She refused to let herself feel any hope. She recalled that crushing disappointment from the winter all too well. "You talked to him?"
"Yes! How many weeks do you have left in this semester? Is it two or three? You need to come home!" From the surroundings she could see behind him, Emily knew that he was in his city apartment. She knew the time difference between them, and knowing his habits, she had to wonder how much coffee the man had taken in.
"Two weeks, but I can take all my exams early and be on a plane right after." The wheels were already turning in her mind. Her instructors wouldn't be happy, and her school friends would be upset, but special allowances were always made for the students here. And Emily Thorne, being the ward of the Nolan Ross...she didn't anticipate any problems.
"Good. Arrange it with your instructors and I'll have the plane put on standby. Call me when you're ready to take off. David hasn't allowed in-person visitation yet, but I do have a way for you to communicate with him directly."
Emily narrowed her eyes. "Like a phonecall?" She didn't see why she would need to fly home for a call, surely David would be able to call her while she was at school.
Nolan shook his head. "Better. I've built...ah, you'll see."
Suddenly, there was a third voice. A woman calling out for Nolan from his side of their connection.
"Nolan, are you working at this time of night? Come back to b-"
"Yeah, I'll be right there!" He called back. He turned his attention back to Emily, who was staring back at him in confusion. "Sorry about that. Anyway, just keep me in the loop about what the headmaster says when you tell them you have to withdraw early. I'll get involved if I have to. Soon as you test out, just let me know when you're ready to fly."
Emily nodded and agreed to contact him again soon.
After saying their goodbyes, Emily disconnected from Nolan and sat, absorbing what he had just told her. Somehow, he had managed to convince David to open communication again. It wasn't the in-person visitation they'd had before, but any communication would be better than the wall of refusal her father had put between them. It had been over a year since she had had any communication with her father. Even with effort, she couldn't recall the final words they'd said to each other in their last meeting. Words of love and encouragement, she was sure, but the specifics were fading.
She still had the recorded gifts from Nolan in her jewelry box, but listening to her father's voice was a far cry from being in his physical presence.
Emily missed him, but what disturbed her was that she no longer felt that genuine need for her father. Rather, she felt driven to free him, to see the Initiative exposed for the horrific crime they had hung on him. But David Clarke himself? Emily wanted her father back of course, but she recognized now that he was a man of secrets. His affair with Victoria aside, he clearly had some kind of insight into corrupt dealings in Grayson Global and how it aligned with Americon Initiative.
And she was not the girl her father remembered.
Emily wondered what David would think of her when he learned of everything she had done in school, the strange new directions her interests were taking. What would he think, when he learned of her alliance with Mr. Takeda? What would he think of Aiden? Emily flicked out her tongue, gently probing at the cut on her lip from her last sparring session with the man. Nolan either hadn't noticed or he'd chosen not to mention it. She'd taken care to wear long sleeves and neck scarves during their video chats, lest Nolan see her bruises - some from sparring, some from what they did in bed.
That was its own issue, really.
She moved away from her desk and went into the bathroom for a proper look at herself. The vibrancy had faded from her last dye job, and the color hadn't been flattering in the first place. Like all the other shades and looks she'd gone through in the last two years, it had only been applied in an effort to further obscure her.
What was it that Nolan had said, during their first Christmas together?
"Think of this as hiding in the spotlight. No one will dig too deep if it doesn't look like I'm hiding you."
Well.
If she was to see her father again, it was possible that she may not return to this school again after the summer. She wouldn't return to this look again, either. Rather, she would return to the States, to her father and to herself.
Emily Thorne was done hiding.
Algebra. French. German. Physics. Literature. Chemistry. History.
The day had been an unyielding flow of work from the moment she'd entered the classroom. Her instructors were not happy with her sudden requirement to test out of the semester, but Emily refused to wait weeks for the end of the school year. She refused to wait another day and had informed her instructors and the headmaster's office of her intent to leave the country immediately following the exit exams.
It was an unusual accommodation, but not an impossible one.
So.
Upon checking in at the office, Emily had been ushered into a classroom and presented with exam after exam, one after another until the hours of the school day had drawn to a close and she, finally, set down her pencil after answering the final question on the final test.
The girl had stood up, stretched, then gone to thank each of her instructors and the headmaster for their assistance. She would arrange to send each of them a thank-you gift of chocolates and a card once she was back in the States; it was the least she could do. She had given up on her overt rebellion and behaved herself - for the most part - and had come to enjoy the challenges of her new class schedule.
She had packed her bag the night prior, a simple weekender bag would be enough given that she still had plenty of clothes in Nolan's city apartment and the Hamptons house. She could buy herself anything else she might need.
Her friends would exit their final class of the day to Emily's text alert of a family emergency that had called her back to the States. She would reassure them once she landed. Depending on what happened, she may never return to this school, she may never see her friends again. They were all from enormously rich families, all of them spoiled and connected and pampered and happy and destined for one greatness or another.
Emily would miss them all, and one friend in particular.
"I can't stay long. I've just taken all of my exit exams - I've never done so much all at once! I have to go, I'm leaving today. It's taken almost a whole year but Nolan has found a way to reach my father, I could hardly believe it when he told me. Now I'm done with school and I have to get to the airport. I've packed and the car will be here soon...I just couldn't leave without saying goodbye. I had to make sure you know how much you've meant to me."
Patch snorted and nudged Emily, wanting another apple.
She rolled her eyes at his bullish appetite and gave him what he wanted. "You'll miss me, I know you will. Who else sneaks you all these treats, hmm?"
The horse munched on his apple and flicked his tail. Emily stroked his head and his neck, scratching him, the great overgrown lapdog. "I wish I didn't have to leave you behind. I'd bring you with me if I could. Nolan's jet is even better than flying in first class." She tried to smile but it felt wrong. This was wrong too, wasn't it, to be so upset at leaving behind a horse that didn't even belong to her? She swiped a tear off her cheek and went on petting his nose. "I can't take you, though. I have to go back alone. I don't know what will happen. I hope I can talk to my dad, find out why he confessed and what's been happening on his end of things but...I don't know what to think."
If Patch had an opinion, he kept it to himself.
Emily checked her watch and groaned softly. "I have to go. I know it's stupid, you probably can't understand a word I've ever said to you but...thank you for listening."
The girl fished one last treat from her pocket.
Her parting gift.
Nolan watched as his jet touched down on the tarmac and wheeled into its slotted hangar. He'd spoken to Emily just before she'd boarded, so he knew she was on the plane. He wondered if she'd found any sleep on the flight or if she'd stayed awake the whole time, her mind working over what she would say to David once they were finally able to speak.
He hoped the girl absolutely reamed him.
It was no less than what David deserved. He'd essentially chosen to protect Victoria rather than fight for his freedom. Nolan would keep his thoughts to himself until Emily spoke to her father, until then he resolved to be encouraging and discreet. If David chose to tell Emily the truth about Victoria and Charlotte, he hoped the girl would reach out to him once she was ready to talk.
The jet rolled to a gentle stop, the short stairs unfolded from the doorway and Emily emerged.
Nolan's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected her to make another change - though really he shouldn't have been surprised. Emily would do what she pleased. She strode right up to him in a Chanel wrap dress and Louboutin sandals, chic as summer.
"Ah. Look at you, bottle-blonde." He smiled on greeting.
Emily shook her head and shrugged. "I'm done with the disguises, but I'm keeping the name."
"Your choice, Ems. It's good to see you looking like you again."
She reached forward and hugged him. "Thank you, it's great to feel more like myself again. When are we going to see dad?"
Nolan nodded. She looked lighter and brighter than she had in the winter, but no less direct in what she wanted. "It won't be until about 7 tonight, when our inside man comes on duty." Nolan pulled back from her and squeezed her shoulders. "And the beauty is, you won't even have to leave the Hamptons."
"I thought we were going to your city apartment. That's where you were when you first told me you'd reached him."
"I know, I'd just been getting ready to leave for the summer. The Hamptons await, my dear."
She had to smile at that, just a little. "Well, I do love the beach. So tell me about how I'll talk to dad. You said it wasn't a phone call."
Together, they fell into step toward his car. "Oh, it's better than a phone call! It's like our video calls, just a smaller screen and a prototype piece of hardware. I had to test it first, and the screen pairs are bonded - I couldn't just whip up another one and send it to you so you could talk to David from school. Not yet, at least."
"So I'll get to see him."
"Yes. Fair warning, though - the picture on the interface isn't perfect, it's still fuzzy. And the sound can get scratchy if he's not standing in just the right place of his cell. Still some bugs to work out, but yes, you'll get to talk to him at length. No more twenty minute monthlies. As long as our inside man is on shift, David is free to use the screen."
Nolan hit the gas and wheeled them out of the private airport, intent to bring Emily back to the Hamptons for the summer.
Emily was quick in taking in her new surroundings at the Hamptons house, recognizing the things that hadn't changed and registering the things that had. Nolan had never been much of a decorator but someone had had a hand in the new painting on the wall and the bright floral arrangements on the low table. She didn't remark on it as she moved into her bedroom. The flight was always draining, but she didn't intend to sleep now; she only wanted to dress down for the evening and speak to her father.
Eying the clock, she saw that there was some time to go before 7pm, the time Nolan had said the contact would take place.
She took off her dress and hung it in the closet where it joined a dozen others from the summer before. She put on a casual tank top and a pair of denim shorts, her uniform for the Hamptons summer. Standing before the mirror in the bathroom, Emily stared at herself. The blonde dye she'd chosen at the salon was as close a match to her natural color as she could manage. It looked all right. She didn't look the same as she had two years ago. She had matured. Her face and body had changed a great deal.
She was the same, but different.
Emily was satisfied with that.
She pinned up her hair and left the house, she wanted a walk on the beach before...before what?
Before she could speak to her father and learn why he had condemned himself and refused to see her? She didn't know what he could answer that would make sense to her. What could have been more important to him than regaining his freedom?
"All right, so here it is."
After her walk on the beach, Emily had settled in the backyard where Nolan had built up a fire in the stone pit for her. The salted breeze swayed the trees and carried the scent of the flowers that bloomed around them. It was a beautiful evening, but Emily felt anything but relaxed. She wanted to appear calm but the closer it came to 7pm, the more anxious she felt. Her hands trembled, her heart thudded in her chest.
Nolan approached her and held out his hand. He held a flat gray card, which Emily took. Nolan had explained what it was, that he had made an earlier version that displayed short recordings and that this was simply the next step in that project's evolution: live wireless video communication.
"You've talked to dad through this?" Emily turned it over a few times in her hand, feeling the weight of it, the promise.
She looked up at him from where she sat. Nolan nodded, the flames casting his skin and hair golden. The fire reflected back to her from his eyes.
"Yes, several times. He knows it'll be you contacting him tonight. IStay outside. You'll get the best connection out here. Focused picture, uninterrupted signal. On his side, David will hopefully be close to his cell's window." Nolan checked his watch, then looked to her and nodded. "I'll leave you to it. It's time."
Nolan left Emily in the backyard and went inside to busy himself. He had no interest in eavesdropping on their reunion, such as it was. Their conversation was long overdue and it wasn't his place to hear any of it. Let father and daughter have their time together. He was proud of himself for having orchestrated this, the screen cards themselves and the circumstances that allowed for the communication.
He congratulated himself and started to make dinner. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he assumed that Emily would be. It had been a long day and she hadn't eaten yet. So, chicken and pasta with grilled vegetables and a nice white wine for the evening. Whatever hesitancy he'd once felt in allowing Emily alcohol had fled him.
He glanced up and he could see Emily in the backyard, her face illuminated by both the fire and the brightness of the screen. He looked away just as quickly. Again, he didn't want to eavesdrop, not even for a moment. He went on about preparing their meal.
Once the chicken was in the oven, Nolan mixed himself a light cocktail and thought of the Hamptons. He thought of Catherine from the year before. Beautiful, clever woman. Idly, he wondered if she was in the Hamptons for the summer or if she'd moved on from her fear of flying and taken to traveling instead. He wondered if she thought about him. He wondered if they might have a drink sometime in the weeks to come. Not to rekindle things, as Nolan was seeing Padma now, but it would be nice to catch up with her.
Well.
One step at a time.
He went into his bedroom to change out of his day clothes, opting for lounge pants and a t-shirt. It was warm enough that he would have gone bare-chested had he been alone, but the house rules always changed when Emily was with him, which meant that once Padma came to visit she would have to wear more clothes during the evenings as well.
Pity.
He went back into the kitchen to check the food and set the table. It was a nice night, however, so they may end up eating in the backyard. It wouldn't have been the first time.
Emily set her card screen down, laying it carefully on the patio table. She swiped the tears from her cheeks and turned to see Nolan approaching the door to the backyard, watching her. He had seen her end the connection with David and so he'd thought it safe to approach. In seeing the shine of tears in her eyes, he hoped he wasn't mistaken. The last thing he wanted was to upset Emily, they were still rebuilding after their fight in the winter.
He stepped though the doorway and approached her. The fire lit up her hair, casting her in gold just as it did to him. The ambience for romance surrounded them; the fire, the rush of the ocean below and the floral scent carried on the breeze. Romance was not on Nolan's mind, however, he was only concerned for his friend. He sat down next to her on the patio lounge.
"Nolan."
"Are you all right?"
"I love you."
He raised his brows at that, surprised. "Oh. Uh, thank you. I love you too."
He moved to stand up and tell her that dinner was ready, but Emily reached out and held onto his wrist to stop him. "I mean it. I love you. Maybe I shouldn't, but...I do. You're brilliant and you've done so much for me. I love you."
Nolan retook his seat beside her and reached to bring her into his arms for a warm hug. It was nice to connect like this, he'd honestly missed her in their time apart. He knew she was keeping secrets about her travel and the people she was meeting with, but he refused to push. He wanted her to speak the truth and tell him how she felt and what she was doing. It seemed to him that the price for his reconnecting with Emily would be found in providing the access to her father.
He held her to him and reached up to touch her hair, smoothing his hand over her head. "I love you too, Ems. And you know I can't promise anything when it comes to your father, but just know I'll be here for you, no matter what."
He released her from the hug and she nodded. "Thank you." She sniffed and wiped at her eyes again. "I keep telling myself not to cry or get upset, and here I am crying all over you on my first night home."
Nolan shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with crying, given the situation. You've handled yourself as well as anyone could expect. There's no road map here. You and me, we're only able to take things as they come." He patted her back. "Now, come on. Dinner is ready and tomorrow will be another day. You can talk to David again and then again the night after that. I told you, with this setup you'll both have greater access to each other. I know it's not the real thing but-"
"No, Nolan, this is wonderful. Please, you created these screens just for us and I don't know how you've been able to guarantee us the time to talk to each other, but without you none of this could have happened. Thank you."
"Yeah, well, nice to know my genius makes me so loveable." He winked at her. "I'm starving, come on."
Emily wished that Nolan wasn't in such a flippant mood. Being back in the Hamptons with him, speaking to her father again, she felt overwhelmed with longing for her fantasy again. She wanted Nolan. She wanted her father. She wanted swift exposing justice and she wanted violent wrathful vengeance. She wanted to take both the men she loved most in this world away with her to a safe place far away from what their lives had become.
But that wasn't going to happen tonight.
Tonight, she and Nolan would eat dinner. Emily would clean the kitchen since Nolan had cooked for her. She would claim to be tired and go to bed early.
Tonight was done, but tomorrow would be a new day.