Page 19 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

Normally, something that stupid would’ve made him laugh. Instead, he just looked at me and slowly shook his head.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note.

“This one’s from a few years ago. I found it when I went fishing with Inno.”

The paper was still white, but it was creased and wrinkled from being folded and unfolded too many times.

“I keep it with me because it reminds me she has no one else.”

He looked down at Gabriella before dropping his gaze to the note.

“I wish Dad could come back. I wish everything could be the way it was before I was five.”

He folded it carefully and slipped it back into his pocket.

“I never knew she remembered that much. She’s not like us. We say whatever’s on our minds, but she keeps it all inside. She smiles and only tells people the good parts.”

I’d never seen her that way.

I’d never even considered it.

My gaze left Gianni and wandered back to the beach, then further, to the horizon where the dark sea disappeared into the night sky.

I sat there in silence, trying to pull myself back to the present.

We’d finished our second bottle of wine, getting drunk in the middle of the day, when my phone rang.

I flipped it open.

“Not available.”

“Oliver Sinclair, get your ass home. Now.” My father’s voice thundered through the phone.

A sharp ringing came to my ears, and I couldn’t tell if it was the wine or the depth of his voice.

“Two coppers are looking for you,” he added, his British accent growing thicker with every word he spat through the phone. “You’ve got ten bloody minutes to get yourself over here and speak to them. I’m not having people chatting shit on my engagement day, saying I raised a criminal.”

“I’ll be there.”

I snapped the phone shut and slipped it back into my pocket.

To my father, reputation was everything. From what I’d overheard earlier, around three hundred people had been invited to the engagement party. The staff had also whispered that he had something planned for me. Knowing his lawyer had been trying to contact me, I assumed he wanted to retire and hand the company over. I wasn’t ready for that. I still wanted to waste my life until I was at least thirty. Better that than ending up like those blokes who spent their youth working, then woke up at thirty-five with a shiny car, a midlife crisis, and nothing worth remembering.

I pushed back my chair, pulled a wad of cash from my pocket, and slapped it onto the table. Lorenzo didn’t even bother reminding me it was on his tab this time. He was one of those“friends”who stuck around because my pockets were always full. I pitied myself for keeping him around. We’d been in the same friend group since school, and I still couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t cut him loose.

Oh, right. I needed someone to drink with in the middle of the day.

“I have to go,” I said.

He only gave a lazy wave before his forehead dropped onto the table with a dull thud.

I stepped outside.

Two police officers were already waiting by the entrance. The moment I walked out, one of them stepped into my path.

“Oliver Sinclair? We have a couple of questions.”

It wasn’t surprising they’d found me here. The Amalfi Coast was small. Everyone knew everyone, and news traveled faster than the sea breeze. Someone had seen me, made a phone call, and they’d been sent to catch me before I slipped away.