“Sylvia has a point,” Damien says. “And thirty percent is steep. Especially to sacrifice on a property like Winn that has the potential for serious growth.”

Jackson’s eyes are on me. “I think Cortez has a similar potential.”

“I agree with you,” Damien says. “And that’s why I have a suggestion.”

We both turn to him.

“Sell Isaac a fifteen percent interest in Winn. I’ll cover the difference personally.”

I gape, then realize my mouth is hanging open. “But you never do that.” He’s wildly protective of his personal assets. In fact, when the investors first made noises about pulling out after we lost our original architect, Damien had specifically declined to invest personally.

“Never’s a very long time,” Damien says as he looks straight at Jackson. “And this time, I think it’s worth the risk.”

“Honestly, so much has happened my head is spinning,” Cass says. She and I are in the huge guest bedroom that Jackson and I will be sharing. We’ve snuck away from the festivities for a quick BFF catch-up session. “I’m surprised you’re still clinging to sanity.” She narrows her eyes. “You are still sane, aren’t you?”

I roll my eyes, then perch on the edge of the bed. “As sane as I was before. But that’s not saying much.”

Cass only grins, then starts counting out on her fingers. “Engaged. Small child. Non-felonious fiancé. And a father who’s confessed to committing murder. There’s more, I’m sure, but that covers the high points. Seriously,” she says more gently. “Are you doing okay?”

“I am,” I say. “Jackson being free trumps everything.”

“True that. But—” She scrunches up her face as if she’s caught a whiff of something unpleasant. “I mean, your dad. It’s kind of freaky. Have you talked with Ethan?”

I shake my head. “I left him a voice mail to call me. I think he gets back from Mexico today. And since he can’t go see Dad yet anyway, I didn’t want to worry him.”

“Are you going to go see your dad?”

“I don’t know. And, honestly, I don’t want to think about it. Or talk about it, for that matter. Not forever. Just not today. Because there’s nothing I can do anyway, and tonight is about Jackson being free and getting Ronnie. Okay?”

“You’ll call me if you need me?”

“Duh.”

She laughs. “Fair enough. You’re off the hook for now. But . . .” She trails off, making the face again.

I shake my head, and force myself not to smile. “What?”

“Ronnie’s entirely precious. And you seem really good with her.”

I frown. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. I completely adore her, and Jackson is floating.” All of that is true. What I don’t say is that I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m a character in Barney or some other kids’ show, just playing the part of the grown-up. And while I want to step out of the role, I can’t. Because what’s my fallback persona? The girl who grew up with my parents? Without a script, I’ll be swinging without a net. Yet with a script, it doesn’t seem quite real.

But I tell myself this is all new. And since I really love Jackson and I really love Ronnie, I can make it all work.

I tell myself that. But I’m not certain that I believe it.

“So when’s the paternity hearing, anyway?” Cass stands up and starts for the door, and I follow, understanding that this is her way of changing the subject. And, yeah, I’m grateful.

“Next week,” I say. “We’ll have to pop out to Santa Fe, but we’ll only be gone for a day or two.”

“And the wedding?”

“That one has a longer fuse. Next summer. I want to get married at the resort.”

“Hell, yeah, you do. I’ll be best man?”

I laugh. “Definitely.”

We’ve reached the living room, and I immediately see Nikki chatting in the corner with Stella and Siobhan, but it’s not until I look toward the far side of the room that I see Jackson. He’s standing hand in hand with Ronnie in front of the window, their backs to me. Night has fallen, and they are looking out over the lights of the city spread out in front of them.

“Wow,” Ronnie says, and I hear Jackson’s soft chuckle.

“Yes,” he says. “Very wow.”

Then she lets go of his hand and hugs his leg tight. “I love you, Daddy,” she says.