Mr. Kaplan’s study was even more intimidating than I expected, and Tiffany had warned me about the guns. They sat displayed behind glass, which was too bad. If a man had a real reason to own a Colt .45, he shouldn’t keep it pristine and locked up. I figured maybe it was so the girls wouldn’t be able to get to them.

Charles came in with a bottle of Booker’s and two glasses. “You like guns?” he asked as he went to his desk. “I guess you would since you wanted to be a cop.”

I turned to him. “I’m not really supposed to be around them.”

“Don’t worry, I doubt your parole officer’s going to come knocking tonight. Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.” Since becoming a free man, I didn’t move for anyone.

“All right, then.” Charles poured our drinks with surprising calm. I took that to be a bad thing. Like maybe he was about to stab me in the back, or in the front, or make me disappear. All because fucking Tiffany couldn’t keep her mouth shut. I’d wanted to talk to both Lake and Charles before the topic of marriage ever even came up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you,” I said. “Truth is, I haven’t really wrapped my head around the marriage thing yet. Tiffany and I just started talking about all this a couple weeks ago. I would’ve asked for your blessing—”

“It’s okay.” Charles passed me a drink. “I meant what I said. I’m happy about it.”

I took a bolstering sip. “With all due respect . . . why?”

He sat at his desk and smiled into his glass as if it were a movie screen playing back the good old days. “You’ve been good for Tiffany. I wouldn’t’ve believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“I haven’t exactly been your favorite person.”

“No, and I’m not saying things are automatically erased between us. Do I like the idea of my daughter marrying a felon?” He shook his head. “But Tiffany and Cathy are both pretty convinced that you didn’t commit that crime.”

I crossed an arm over my chest, swirling my drink. “I didn’t. I got fucked, but I did my time like a man, and I’d like if you could find a way to accept that.”

He nodded slowly, assessing me. “I can do better than accept it. Do you still want to go to the police academy?”

It wasn’t the response I expected. I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

“I’m sure I can do some digging, see if I have any mutual friends who can help us out.”

“I think it’s going to take more than a good word to get a felon on the force.”

“I’m talking about getting your record expunged.”

I leaned in, as if I’d misheard. I’d thought, leaving the gates of prison, the hard part was over. I’d been wrong. I hadn’t accounted for the stress of having a felony record. It gave landlords and banks and the general public the right to discriminate against me. It meant three years of checking in with a PO, living in Orange County, and staying within state lines. Charles might as well have placed the most decadent dessert ever made in front of me and handed me a fork. “You can do that? You would do that?”

“I appreciate how you’ve been with Tiffany.”

It didn’t take much for me to put it together. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. He knew Tiffany would get what she wanted in the end, and if she wanted me, better she was married to a cop than a construction worker. Compared to Corbin’s Wall Street internship, even law enforcement was pitiful. “I appreciate it,” I said honestly. “But the truth is, no part of me wants to be involved with the system. I want my record expunged, but not bad enough to be a cop. Not anymore.”

He chuckled. “I tried to tell you years ago. They’re all rotten.”

“I know that isn’t true, but more rotten than not. I’m sorry if that changes how you feel about the wedding.”

“It doesn’t. How do you like construction?”

“It’s what I know, and since prison threw me into some unfamiliar areas, I gained skills it would’ve taken me much longer to master outside.”

He slid his heavy glass back and forth over his desk, the sound like a saw on wood. “So you plan to work your way up.”

“Given the opportunity, yes. I know I can manage a crew, it’s just a matter of getting there.”

“Good.” He nodded slowly. “I like to hear that.”

It made no sense that he considered construction a suitable job choice. If this wasn’t about making me into a more presentable son-in-law, then what? “So you’re still on board with a wedding?”

“On board?” he asked. “I’m manning the ship. I’m going to put in the phone call tonight and book my baby the first available date.”

“I think maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” I said. “I’d like to be a little more stable before making a commitment like this. The timing just isn’t right.”

“It’s the Ritz, Manning. The timing will be right, whatever they say. You don’t want to disappoint Tiffany, do you?”

“No, but I don’t see the reason for the rush.”

“I never said there was a rush, but you know Tiffany. She’s impatient.” He finished off his drink and set the glass on the sturdy wood surface of his desk. “How would you feel about a summer wedding?”

“I feel summer is soon. Summer is now.”

“When you know, you know, right? Like I said, I just want Tiffany to be happy.”

The way he said Tiffany snagged my attention. As if he were clarifying something. “So do I, but like I said, it’s not the right time.” I couldn’t help but think of Lake right then. Once she was off to college, she’d have so much going on, I wouldn’t occupy a thought in her head. Then, maybe, it’d be the right time to go through with this. Once she’d moved on. “I haven’t even proposed.”

“Tiffany, like her mother, has expensive taste,” he said. “It’s probably my fault, and I’m sorry for that.”

“She knows who she’s marrying.”

“I can help with that, too.” He adjusted his watch. “The ring. She doesn’t need to know.”

“The wedding will be enough,” I said. “Tiffany will have to make do with the ring I can afford.”

“Very well. You can always add to it over the years like I have for Cathy. No need to let that get in the way of the wedding.”

For some reason, he wasn’t hearing me. “I’m not ready,” I said.

“Why not?” He stood, coming around the desk to his bar cart. “Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, refilling his drink.

“No.” As difficult as it’d been to watch Lake process the news of the engagement, a part of me couldn’t help noticing how proud, how happy Tiffany was to make the announcement. Over the last couple weeks, she’d slowly been slipping in comments and details about weddings. Apparently, she’d been dreaming up ideas since childhood. I supposed that was normal for young girls, though I couldn’t remember any of that with Maddy.

“Good. Once everything’s settled, we’ll get the details of your record sorted.” He came back to the desk but didn’t sit. “Maybe I can even find you a position at my company with a salary you’d be hard-pressed to find without a degree.”

Finally, I sat, setting my glass on the edge of the desk and almost missing the lip completely. I steadied the drink, my mind spinning. It was no small thing, what Charles was offering—a fresh start. “Thank you,” I said carefully, because I didn’t know if I should be grateful or wary. “I’m happy with what I have, though.”

“Well, if you change your mind, the job will be there,” he said and winked. “Of course, I can’t promise I won’t change mine.”

Now, he was speaking a language I understood. An unsubtle threat to take it all away. At times, all of this felt unreal, as if I’d ended up here by accident. I didn’t belong in this world, and maybe Tiffany would realize it. Lake, too, if she didn’t already. Tiffany had a tendency to self-destruct, and I didn’t want that. I wanted to give her not just the wedding she’d dreamed about, but a good life, too. Maybe Charles could take that away from us. He certainly held power over Tiffany. I wasn’t sure, but if I’d already decided to marry Tiffany, then I guessed there wasn’t any reason to put it off if he was offering us things we both wanted to go through with it now. A wedding for her, and a fresh start for me.

“So what do you say, Manning?” He held up his glass to cheers.

Maybe if I hadn’t had my pride stripped down every day since those officers had walked onto campgrounds and pointed a finger at me, I could’ve done better for myself. Maybe if Charles weren’t making it so damn easy to get my life back on track, I could walk out on principle. Maybe if this was his other daughter, I’d have the will to fight him harder, to build her a life with my bare hands instead of taking the easy way out.

I stood. Clinking my glass with his felt like making a deal with the devil, and with his next comment, I understood why.

“Lake and that Swenson boy make a nice couple, don’t they?” he asked.

I turned the comment over in my mind. It came out of nowhere, and yet, his timing was studied. That was what all this had been about. As long as I was married to Tiffany, I was off limits to everyone else—especially her sister. Whatever he’d seen when he’d walked into the kitchen tonight, I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time he’d noticed it. I wasn’t very good at paying attention to anything else when Lake was in the room, and she was hopeless at it. Maybe all the time Lake and I had been watching each other, Charles’d been watching us. And if he had, he’d no doubt know Lake thought she was in love with me.

It was shady, and I might’ve called him on it if I didn’t accept why he was doing it. He didn’t know he had no reason to worry. Nobody understood better than me that the Prince of England wasn’t good enough for Lake, let alone me.

To make it clear that I got it, I said, “I care about Tiffany a great deal.” I did care for her. I’d have to reach deep to find a love for Tiffany that I knew would be good for both of us. She didn’t make my heart pound the way it did around Lake, but I was thankful for that. I didn’t want that kind of all-consuming passion. I needed constant. Steady. Sturdy. Tiffany wouldn’t get under my skin or bring out the worst in me, and when she tried, I would hold strong and show her the best in herself.

“She loves you, too,” Charles mused. “I’ve never seen her blossom this way with anyone, not even under my guidance. I couldn’t have predicted it, but there it is.” He sipped his drink. “My girls really are growing up. It’s not exactly how I imagined, but to tell you the truth . . . everything feels just as it should.”