Rachel sat in her car in front of her father's mansion. She hadn't been back since last Christmas. After living at her Grandparent's home for the last five years, she now found the pretentiousness of her father's home uncomfortable. Pressing the call box next to the gate, she waited for her father to answer. She still had the remote that opened the gates but was reluctant to use it, especially when she wasn't sure of her welcome. Even though she and her father had not fought after their recent breakfast, she was sure that today's outcome would be much different.
The topic of the conversation was not going to be pleasant, but she knew it had to be done. Over the last few days she had gotten tired of seeing Smeralda subdued - really not acting her normal self. She wanted her feisty nanny back. And she also wanted her nanny home with her father and not helping the "oh so sexy" Sergio. Smeralda had taken to inviting Sergio over for espresso every morning. The first morning that she had come in from taking Rambo on his walk to find a very sexy Sergio sitting at her table drinking espresso with her nanny.
When her father's gruff voice barked from the call box, she was jerked out of her thoughts.
"Hey Daddy, can I come up?" She asked hesitantly.
"Of course. You know you're always welcome to come home," Marshall said before buzzing the gate.
"But for how long?" she muttered to herself as she drove her car up the long driveway after the gate opened in front of her.
* * * *
Sergio knocked on Nicola's door. When his disgruntled brother finally answered, he looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Sergio brushed by him and walked into the house.
"Morning!" Sergio said cheerfully.
"You have a death wish, don't you?" Nicola asked shutting the door behind his brother and following him into the kitchen.
"Now, you don't want to kill your "bean counter". Who would do all that tedious paperwork that you hate?" Sergio asked his brother as he started Nicola's espresso machine.
"Why are you preparing espresso in MY kitchen when you could be over at Rachel's, having espresso with her and her nanny?"
"She had plans this morning and Smerelda had to pack. She is returning to Italy tomorrow and needed to get everything in order. I am sure going to miss her. She is a wonderful lady who did a fine job raising Rachel."
* * * *
"Would you like some refreshments?" Marshall asked as Rachel sat down in the chair across from him.
"I'm fine, Dad."
"So what brings you here this morning, Rachel. You normally don't seek me out." Marshall asked coolly.
"I'll be blunt, Dad. Are you aware that Smeralda is leaving?"
"Leaving?"
"Yes. She is leaving for Italy tomorrow."
"She said she wanted to go home and visit." Marshall said defensively.
"It's going to be more than a visit, if you don't get your head out of your ass Dad. She is going home to stay -- as in forever! In fact she asked me to come over and get a few of her things today."
"She what?" Marshall yelled as he surged out of his chair.
"She is serious. She intends to go home and she isn't planning on returning. The only question is what are you going to do about it?" she asked.
"Do about it? She is a grown woman, Rachel. I can't hold her hostage. Even as much as I would like too," Marshall said roughly.
"Is this MY father?" she asked as he started pacing in front of her.
"What?" he asked defensively.
"Are you really going to let her go?"
"Do I have a choice?" He rubbed his neck as he continued to pace.
"MY father wouldn't let his girl-friend leave him without a fight. I know you are zealous and passionate in court, Dad. All she is asking is that you share your real self with her."
"What are you talking about?" The confusion on his face made Rachel want to give him a hug.
"When was the last time that you were home before she went to bed, Dad? Or when you made time to sit down and have a romantic evening with her?"
"So my own daughter is trying to lay a guilt trip on me, now?"
"No, Dad. I'm just trying to warn you, that if you let Smeralda go back to Italy, she'll never come back. In fact the reason she sent me here is to get her passport and her cookbook."
"Her cookbook," he whispered as the color left his face. She could tell by the look on her father's face, he finally realized that Smeralda was serious about leaving him. Her mother's cookbook was her most treasured belonging, one that she would never leave behind.
"If she wants her things that badly, she can come and get them herself! I never figured her for a coward." He abruptly stood and started pacing the room.
"Dad..."
"You go and tell her that, Rachel. Tell her that if she wants her precious cookbook she'll have the balls to face me. If she wants this to be over, then she needs to have the gumption to tell me. Not send my daughter!" His face was now red with anger.
"Dad, calm down. I didn't come here to upset you. But I don't want to see you lose the only woman that you have let into your heart since Mom died. If you won't let me, at least, let her in. She loves you."
Marshall stopped his pacing. He swung around and pinned her with his steely gaze. He placed his hands on his slender hips. For a man approaching fifty, he was in fine shape. Age had not diminished his rugged masculinity; if anything the wings of silver at his temples increased it.
"What makes you think that I don't love you, Rachel?" His voice was soft but his gaze was intense.
"I know my position in your life, Dad. I am a constant reminder of what you lost. I know this and I've come to accept it. But Smeralda is different - you have had a relationship with her for at least the last five years. Whether it was a partnership or just an agreement, she has been an integral part of your life. When you started shutting her out, it hurt her."
"She told you that?" He glared at her, daring her to respond - to interfere, in something that was not her business.
"No, she didn't have to. She raised me, Dad, while you worked a gazillion hours and were never home, she took over and raised me."
"That's what I was paying her for!"
"Yes, to make sure I was fed, bathed, off to school and a million other little things. But she didn't have to love me - yet she does. Just as much as she loves you. And you are a fool if you throw that away out of fear or misplaced pride." Rachel stood up and turned to leave the room.
"Don't you dare walk out that door, Rachel Arnsworth!"
"Or what?"
"I'll cut you off, I swear it! How long do you think you will last without my money?" He stopped in front of her.
"I don't need your money, Dad. I earn a good salary from the police dept." She stared up at him with deep hurt showing in her eyes. "It always comes down to control with you. You are angry that you couldn't prevent Mom's death. You're angry that you couldn't stop me from becoming a police officer. You're even angry that Smeralda is demanding more than just your presence in her bed. How dare we do something that the great "Marshall Arnsworth" can't control."
