Diplomacy - the art of saying “nice doggie” till you can find a stick. ~ Wynn Catlin
A few days later, Bull dropped onto the couch. What a fucked-up world, dammit.
“Dios, ’mano.” Caz strode in, followed by…Jesus, everybody except Hawk who’d taken Aric to the hospital to see his mama. “We saw you put your fist through the railing.”
The doc sat down, tsked, and started pulling splinters out of Bull’s knuckles. “What set you off?”
“Frankie.” The heat of anger couldn’t compete with the chilling cold of loss. “She called to say her family is here, staying at the Swan B&B. They want to take her home with them tomorrow.”
“But she wants to stay here.” Gabe smiled at Bull’s raised eyebrows. “I’m not blind, bro. She loves you.”
“Typical move,” JJ said. “If phone calls aren’t enough, it’s time for in-person pressure. They brought everyone so they’ll out-number her.”
Audrey frowned at the officer. “Was your mother manipulative? I thought you said she was wonderful.”
“She was.” JJ shook her head. “On the Weiler police force, I got stuck with family dispute problems. I learned to recognize the tactics used to strong-arm a rebel into line.”
“Strong-arm?” Bull’s jaw tightened. Over my dead body.
“Bro.” Gabe sat down on the woodstove hearth. “How serious are you about her?”
“Very serious.” Bull scrubbed his hands over his face. Dammit, he’d thought they’d have a little more time to work things out. “This is your warning. If she goes back to New York, I’ll follow her.”
Gabe and Caz nodded in complete understanding.
“I think JJ and I are seeing a different side of this.” Audrey leaned forward. “Will Frankie really be content in New York? Or is she being guilted into returning—and she’d be happier here.”
He knew the answer to that—or was it merely his own wishes? Because his thoughts had been going in a circle for days now. And what he’d decided was… “If she loses her family by staying, I doubt she’ll be happy.”
“Sí, your Frankie is the kind to sacrifice herself for her family.” Caz tilted his head. “But ’mano, does that family realize what they’re asking her to give up? A job she loves, a man she loves, a life she loves?”
Setting his fears to one side, Bull considered. When Frankie spoke of her family, they didn’t sound particularly loving. More like they were oblivious to anything unrelated to modeling. Since Frankie didn’t fit into their worldview, they discounted her opinions as unimportant. Did the same with her, too, he thought.
So…if they actually loved her, perhaps if they saw what Frankie would be losing, they might halt the pressure.
If they didn’t love her, then showing them they’d have a fight on their hands might also work.
Gabe had been watching Bull, and now he smiled slowly. “Let’s do some planning. Caz and JJ, you’re in charge of the psychological warfare. Audrey, identify the personnel and resources available. Hawk will probably remain here with Aric and Regan, so don’t include them in the mission. Bull, pick the field of battle.”
“Frankie said they’d eat at the roadhouse,” Bull said, feeling the rightness of his decision. “Let’s set up on home ground.”
Gabe nodded approval.
“Felix will want to help,” Audrey offered.
“Perfect.” Bull gave her a smile. “He can do a sneak and peak.”
“Good.” Gabe had a pad of paper in his hand. “That’s advance recon nailed down. What do we know about Frankie’s family?”
“I’m going to get my laptop,” Audrey called, already on her way out the door.
The blood started to move faster in Bull’s veins. Frankie’s family didn’t understand her. Didn’t value her.
He did. And so did his family.
At the roadhouse, Frankie smiled at her father. “While you wait for the hostess to set up the table, I’m going to run out and get my jacket. It’s chillier in here than I thought.”
Before he could respond, she slipped out the door into the quiet night. Cavolo, but her ears needed a rest. Did Birgit ever stop talking?
Still, it was wonderful to see them all. She really did love them.
Crossing the parking lot, she grabbed her coat out of her little car.
After her time in Alaska, Frankie could see her family more clearly…her very work-obsessed family.
Papà loved her but couldn’t think of anything except his photography for longer than a few minutes.
Her sisters’ lives revolved around their modeling careers. That was a given. Still, they could be loving siblings at times. Birgit was always delighted to fix Frankie’s makeup before an event. Anja loved being asked for help when deciding on what to wear.
Pulling on her coat, Frankie leaned against the giant chain saw-carved moose at the corner of the building. Her heart ached as she considered the fourth member of her family.
Mama had a reserved, chilly personality. Bemoaning that was futile. Her mother’s priority was—and would always be—the business she’d built from scratch.
With all of them, relationships came second.
Frankie needed to accept that what she wanted from them was something that wouldn’t happen. Something she needed to stop trying to get.
Being here with Bull’s family had let her see that the lack wasn’t her. She was who she was, and she really was quite lovable. There were just some people who measured love out in smaller portions.
Unlike Bull, who poured out love like a wide river.
She smiled as just the thought of him renewed her resolve.
The night wasn’t going well. Mama’s dedication was to her company, and that meant she was pushing Frankie to return with all her might…because that was what was best for her business.
Just before they left for the roadhouse, Mama mentioned how they’d supported Frankie in college…and with the expectation she’d pay them back by working at the company.
Another wave of guilt swept over Frankie. So far, she’d managed to stand her ground, but…it really was difficult. Was she being as ungrateful as Mama said?
She told them she had a job here, a life…and a man she loved. They ignored or discounted everything she said.
After all, Birgit had said in a disparaging voice, Frankie didn’t have good taste in men. Look at what’d happened with Jaxson.
“Francesca, we’re being seated,” Anja called from the door.
“Coming.” Frankie patted the moose’s huge head and strode into the roadhouse.
Shortly, Amka, the night’s hostess, took them to their table. “Enjoy your meal, Frankie and family.”
As Amka moved away, Frankie frowned at the large round table they’d been given. Yes, it was in a quiet corner, but…the table seated twelve and was reserved for people who wanted to conduct a meeting and eat at the same time. Her family wouldn’t even fill half of the table.
But no point in asking Amka what she’d been thinking. Papà’d already sat down with Mama on his right.
“Hi there, everyone. Welcome to Alaska.” Felix gave the group his most charming smile. “I’m Felix, and I’ll be your server tonight.”
“Felix?” Frankie raised her eyebrows. “Since when have you waited tables in the restaurant?”
“Girl, I lost my waitstaff-virginity over here in the restaurant section.” He tucked an arm around her and kissed her cheek, then firmly seated her where she had an empty chair on each side of her.
He kept talking as he handed out menus. “Bull—the owner of the restaurant—heard our Frankie’s family was here. He plans to come over and say hi. When you see a huge guy with a shaved head, don’t panic. He’s ours.”
“That’s very kind of him.” Papà’s expression was pleased. “I’m sure he’s a busy man.”
“Oh, very. He has another restaurant in Homer and one in Anchorage. We’re gratified he prefers to live in Rescue.” Felix beamed at them all. “Who wants a pre-dinner drink?”
Her mother and sisters ordered wine, but Papà loved beer. “I’ll have a Beartooth from Bull’s Moose Brewery. Is there any connection to this roadhouse?”
“Excellent choice,” Felix said. “And yes, Bull owns the brewery.”
As her sisters and parents opened their menus, Frankie looked around the roadhouse. So familiar, so dear. No, she didn’t want to leave it.
How was she going to get that through to everyone?
Would they hate her forever if she stuck to her resolve?
But…just the thought of saying goodbye to Bull left her feeling as if her heart and lungs had been scooped out.
Her jaw tightened. I’m going to stay here.
Operation planned. Contingencies accounted for. Advance recon done.
An hour later, having debriefed Felix about his impressions of Frankie’s family, Bull studied the group from across the room.
Probably in her fifties, the mother was still a spectacularly beautiful blonde. Her two daughters, also blondes, had inherited her high cheekbones, pointed chin, big blue eyes.
Frankie’s heritage obviously came from her dark-haired, brown-eyed father.
They were all chattering away while Frankie sat quietly. Seeing her so subdued pissed him right the fuck off.
Ignoring the momentary wish for his old assault rifle, Bull strolled across the room. Stuffed full of good food, the opposing force sat, pinned at a table, square in his sights.
“Sweetheart.” Leaning over, Bull kissed the top of Frankie’s head—warning shot delivered across the bow—and ignored her parents’ startled expressions. “Welcome to Alaska, Bocelli family. I’m Bull Peleki, the owner of this establishment. How’s the food?”
After listening to their compliments—sincere, to his surprise—he smiled and initiated the attack. “You must be Frankie’s mother.”
When he glanced at Frankie and raised a brow, her color deepened. “Oh, excuse me. Bull, I’d like you to meet my mother and father, Sigrid and Giorgio Bocelli.”
Before she could introduce her sisters, Bull interrupted. “It’s good to finally meet you. Frankie has talked about you all quite a bit. I’m sure she’s told you she is staying with my family out at our property—what we call the Hermitage.”
Giorgio appeared surprised.
Sigrid didn’t. So, the mom knew about Frankie being with him, and dad didn’t? How much had Frankie told them about Mako’s sons and the Hermitage?
“When we heard you were here,” Bull continued, “my family hoped to meet you.”
Her mother was frowning at Frankie, but her father, who, from all reports, had a personality like Frankie’s said, “We’d be delighted.”
They were probably thinking a meeting would happen sometime in the future, but nope. Bull raised his hand and motioned.
Time for the psychological warfare.
From the bar where they’d been waiting, his family sauntered over. They were missing only Hawk and the children; Aric was still uncomfortable away from the Hermitage, and Hawk already had too many internal scars from family conflict.
Gabe and Audrey took seats directly opposite the parents; Caz and JJ sat down across from the sisters.
Bull slid into the empty chair next to Frankie. Felix was an excellent conspirator.
Reaching under the table, Bull appropriated Frankie’s cold little hand.
After studying his family, she narrowed her eyes at him.
Yes, sweetheart. The sarge’s sons are conducting a rescue, using words instead of bullets.
Rising, Bull launched into introductions. “On the New York side, we have Sigrid Bocelli—owner of the Bocelli Modeling Agency. Giorgio Bocelli, renowned for fashion photography. Anja”—he nodded at the oldest sister—“and Birgit, world famous models.”
He managed to suppress his smirk when Frankie’s siblings realized he knew who they were without any introduction. Audrey was truly excellent at research.
He continued. “On the Alaska family side, we have Audrey Hamilton who runs our library. Gabe MacNair, Chief of Police. Police Officer Jayden Jenner. And Caz Ramirez who runs the town’s health clinic. We all live out at the Hermitage.”
“You live together in one house?” Birgit asked in confusion.
“No, we own a fair amount of acreage on Lynx Lake and built our houses there with a shared courtyard,” Gabe explained. “Frankie came to live with us after her rental cabin was torched.”
“Torched.” Her father almost stood. “Merda, my daughter’s house was burned?”
Nope, she hadn’t told them about the arson. And here was where Frankie’s temper and emotions came from. He leaned into Frankie. “I like your father.”
Her eyes shot sparks at him. “Deficiente, what have you done?” Her voice dropped. “They didn’t need to know that.”
His grin widened. Yep, one Italian temper.
Across the table, JJ asked Caz, “Did she just call him an idiot?”
“Francesca, you will explain this torching. Now.” Her father pointed to Frankie.
She kicked Bull’s shin hard enough to make him wince. “Papà, Kit’s husband was abusive and involved with a horrible cult, and he dragged her into it. I came here to help get her free, and the cult burned my cabin to make me leave.”
The father turned angry eyes toward Gabe. “Shouldn’t the police have been dealing with such a cult?”
Gabe gave him a sympathetic look. “Although the cult has been a problem, they’re outside of my town limits and quite good at not being caught breaking the law. The ones who burned her cabin were hired through a third party. However, last week, that all changed.”
“What happened last week?” Anja’s sharp blue eyes were bright with curiosity.
“The women in the cult got free, and the fanatics fled the area.” Gabe went on to explain more, including that Kit was in the hospital in Anchorage.
The sisters were wide-eyed, the mother obviously unhappy. “Francesca, this was most irresponsible of you. What were you thinking?”
Frankie stiffened. “That Kit needed help.”
“And helping is what friends do,” JJ said. “Your Frankie is a daughter to be proud of.”
Sigrid’s mouth pursed like she’d been sucking on a lemon. “Her name is Francesca. Why do you all persist in calling her Frankie?”
Perfect, the mom was getting irritated. That was what Caz had told them to strive for.
Time to toss the first grenade. “Our father was a traditionalist who taught us to address people by the name they prefer to use. It’s a form of respect.” Bull said politely. “And your daughter is very worthy of respect.”
The muscles in Sigrid’s face and neck tightened, exposing the fine white lines of a facelift.
Giorgio eyed Bull. “It is difficult for a family who called a child by one name to change to another.”
“True enough,” Caz said with his white smile. “It does take thought. However, since Frankie has a generous heart, I’m certain she would overlook a few mistakes.”
Slight color rose in…damn, everyone’s faces. No one called her by the name she preferred? Anger roused inside Bull.
Did they think her wishes weren’t worth considering because she was the baby of the family? Or was it because she wasn’t blonde and classically beautiful?
But this skirmish had been won. Bull sat back. A battle, like a river, would surge strongly, then slow into eddies while combatants recovered. This was often when unwary opponents let their guard down.
So, with a sweet smile, JJ asked the two siblings about how they’d developed such unique catwalk styles. Birgit and Anja jumped into the discussion. Despite sounding good-natured, their bickering held the edge of performers in competition with each other.
No wonder Frankie had superb negotiation and peacemaking skills.
Living in a world of prima donnas must chafe at her soul. Bull ran his hand over Frankie’s shoulder in a caress that was as much for her as it was for him.
She was so much better a fit with his family…and she knew it.
The trick would be making her parents and siblings see it, too.
When she felt Bull’s hand on her shoulder, Frankie started to lean into him, as she did so naturally now. He enjoyed being her support and protector, almost as much as she liked giving him the open affection he needed…even if he didn’t admit it to her.
Just like he hadn’t mentioned that he’d be here tonight. Despite the unsettled feeling in her stomach, she had to admire his facility with verbal warfare. And from the light in his gaze, that was what he was conducting.
With an effort, she focused on the conversation at the table, then realized Papà was studying her.
“Despite the strain of freeing Kit, you’re particularly lovely today.” Her father rubbed a finger over his chin. “I should do a series of photographs, perhaps with a theme of—”
“No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t changed my mind about how I feel about photographs of me hanging on a wall. Sorry, Papà.”
“Her beauty isn’t skin deep; it goes right to her heart and soul,” Bull rumbled. “Even your photographs, Giorgio, can’t capture that essence.”
Cazzo, she loved him, and she knew she was probably blushing.
Then he added, “Undoubtedly, her happiness at being here in Alaska—and with me—adds a glow.”
She had to suppress a laugh. Such conceit.
Birgit sniffed. “Or maybe she’s glowing because she finally got laid.”
Ouch. Frankie winced, and Bull stiffened.
“You know, I once thought I wanted a sister.” JJ gave Birgit her pissed-off cop stare. “I guess I got lucky being a single child.”
Birgit flushed a bright red. “I didn’t—” Her gaze dropped. “I did say that, and it was really petty.”
She looked at Frankie. “I’m sorry, Francesca. I can’t find a man I want to see for longer than a date or two, and you have”—she gestured toward Bull—“and he’s so into you.”
Birgit’s mouth often ran ahead of her brain. It was why she caused so many problems at work. Understanding melted Frankie’s anger because… Anyone would envy me having Bull. “It’s okay. I—”
“Shit, I called you Francesca, and you’ve asked us over and over to call you Frankie.” Birgit scowled. “When my BFF thought it was cute to call me Bibi, I slapped her to make her stop. Why do we do it to you?”
“Because Mama said we had to since it’s her given name.” Anja frowned at Mama. “When I was oh, maybe twelve, and my friends called their mothers, mom, and I wanted to call you that, you said absolutely not. You even sent me to my room when I kept trying.”
That’d been quite the week. Papà had called it the battle of the frost giants.
Mama’s blue eyes held anger. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Sat back and stared at nothing. Then she turned to Frankie. “They’re correct. I’m sorry. Frankie. One’s name is a personal choice.”
Cribbio, Bull had accomplished in one night what she’d not managed in years. “Thanks, Mama.”
“So, if Kit’s out of the cult, you’ve achieved your goal. I’m glad you’re coming back to work.” Anja had obviously blown off everything Frankie had said at the B&B about being in love and planning to stay in Alaska.
“Oh, me, too.” Birgit tossed her hair back with a flirtatious look at Bull before telling Frankie, “The makeup people keep messing up my eyeliner before a shoot. And my agent is being a total asshole. You need to talk to him and—”
“Is that what you do all day?” Bull gave Frankie’s hair a light tug. “Deal with quarrels?”
She sighed, because it sounded awful, didn’t it? “That’s the job description, yes. I’m essentially a diplomat in a war zone filled with models and advertising people.”
“Chiquita.” Caz’s voice was smooth and concerned. “You love being with people, I know that. I’ve seen how much you enjoy managing the roadhouse and making the customers and staff happy. You have a sweet, good-natured personality. Enduring hours of angry, frustrated people must feel like you were tossed into a blackberry bush. Do you truly like doing that?”
Papà frowned…and Mama acted as if she was the one tossed into a blackberry bush.
Feeling as if she’d let them down and hurt their feelings, Frankie stared at the table. What Caz said was the truth, but it wasn’t what they needed or wanted to hear.
Bull lifted their clasped hands, resting them on the table. “Sweetheart?”
Why could she deal with everyone else in the world, but not her family? She hadn’t changed her mind, still wanted to stay, but her family had decided different. And was making their claim on her clear.
Did she want to start this fight here, in the restaurant? “Bull, it’s not…”
His black eyes captured hers. “So, when we have children, you’re going to tell them they must work at Bocelli’s, whether they want to or not. Even if it makes them unhappy.”
“Of course not.” Her answer came a second before her brain told her that she’d just opened the can of worms she wanted to handle in private.
“I fear you don’t understand,” Mama said, her voice frozen.
“Ah, the ice queen,” Frankie heard Caz say under his breath.
“We supported our daughter in college with the understanding she’d return to work for the company.”
Actually, that’d never been stated. Just understood.
“Ah, many of my friends in the medical professions have done the same as Frankie—accepted help, then worked in a less…pleasant…work environment for a couple of years.” Caz smiled at Frankie. “Is your two years not up yet, chica?”
If she wasn’t totally in love with Bull—and if JJ wasn’t usually carrying a gun—Frankie would kiss the doc right on the mouth.
“I’m not sure when I should start counting.” She tapped her fingers on her lips. “Should it be at twelve when I started helping after school. Or when I worked there every weekend in college? Or just the four years I’ve worked there after I got my MBA?”
There was silence around the table.
And, okay, she was done with this. “However, if you think I still owe you, then send me a bill, and I’ll pay you back. We’ll pretend it was a loan.”
“Wait—does that mean I’d have to pay you back for the money you’ve given me?” Birgit asked, appalled.
“No. No, you do not. None of you do.” Her father rubbed his face. “This is a night for uncomfortable insights, is it not?”
“Uncomfortable?” Anja said. “You mean hearing that we’ve all been shitting on F—on Frankie. Because we can.”
“Anja! Language,” Mama snapped.
“The word bothers you, but making your daughter eat it doesn’t?” Anja gave Mama a hard look. “Mama, I know you love her as much as you do me and Birgit, but you treat her differently. Probably because she doesn’t want to be a model. She’s put up with being treated like a…a servant because, like Papà’s side of the family, she’s a lot nicer than your side.”
The air left Frankie’s lungs. That was way too much honesty for Mama. She opened her mouth to say…something.
“Shhh,” Bull cautioned under his breath.
Mama’s eyes filled with tears. “Francesca. Frankie. I…no. I don’t mean to…”
Cavolo, Mama was going to cry, and she never cried. Aghast, Frankie started to rise. “Mama—”
“My dear, I’m so glad you’re here,” Regina, the municipal building receptionist called as she and her husband walked into the restaurant. “Thank you so much for the other night. You made our anniversary incredibly special. One we’ll never forget.”
After giving Frankie a warm hug, Regina joined her beaming husband, and they headed into the bar.
“Frankie’s here?” From a nearby table, Tina, Chevy’s wife, half rose. “Girl, don’t forget we’re reading The Handmaid’s Tale this week.”
Small towns. Frankie stole a glance at her mother who was regaining her composure. Okay, then.
Rising, Frankie called back. “I’m halfway done, Tina. It’s a great book.” When she sat back down, she felt more centered. As Bull took her hand again, she smiled at her mother. “Mama. It’s all right.”
“No. No, it’s not.” Eyes now dry, Mama set her jaw. “I need to think about this, but you are not less. Different, yes. Not less. And never a servant. Not my daughter.” Her fingers were tapping on the table.
Her gaze came to Bull and where he held Frankie’s hand. A very blatant possessive hold, Frankie realized.
Before she could move, Lillian swooped down. “Love, I’d hoped to run into you tonight. Don’t forget poker night is next week. Also, for the Harry Potter reading, could you bring yourself to wear black robes?”
“Hey, wait, is this reading for the library? My library?” Audrey asked, frowning.
“But, certainly, my child. Frankie and I intend to add some stage props,” Lillian said. Dante stepped up behind her.
Frankie eyed the petite woman. It was very unlike the British actress to bust into a dinner party like this.
Lillian cast a gracious smile over the table. “Please excuse the interruption. Frankie and I have been reading to the elementary children and showing them how literature gets turned into theater.”
Dante laughed. “Lillian went and left the Broadway stage, but acting is in her blood.”
“Lillian Gainsborough?” Papà’s eyes widened. “I saw you in Macbeth. No one has played the Lady better, before or since.”
Beaming, Lillian gave a slight bow. “Thank you, my good sir.”
Frankie suppressed a smile at her sisters’ wide eyes.
“Now, Frankie.” Lillian patted her shoulder. “I have robes for you. Come over early, and we’ll get dressed. We’ll have ever so much fun.”
“I’ll be there.” But…they’d discussed robes and times yesterday. There was no way Lillian had forgotten.
Cazzo, Bull had drafted more than just his family for this meeting with her family. Felix, Regina, Tina, Lillian…? Ohhh, this was such a set up.
Lillian smiled at Frankie’s family. “It’s lovely that you came to visit her. I know she’s missed you all.”
As Lillian and Dante moved away, Anja snorted. “Missed us? When would you have had time?”
Birgit sniffed. “She doesn’t put in hours at the gym like we do. This place probably doesn’t even have a gym.”
“We have a home gym,” Gabe said mildly. “I’ve noticed Bull and Frankie seem to prefer jogging and sparring in our park.”
Bull shrugged. “There’s nothing like running beside the lake at sunrise.”
“Oh.” Anja sighed. “That does sound nice.”
“By the way, Frankie, can you give me some lessons with that staff of yours? Some of your blocks and strikes would work great with the police baton,” JJ said.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
Papà didn’t seem upset, but Birgit and Mama were frowning. Because none of Frankie’s plans included returning to New York.
“Only, you’ll have to tell Gryff not to bite me—that we’re friends, right?” JJ added with a smile.
“Bite you?” Birgit stared. “What?”
“Our dog,” Bull said. “He’s ninety pounds of fur that tries to crawl into Frankie’s lap every chance he gets—and will guard her with his life.”
Mama looked appalled, then her eyes softened. “You’ve always wanted a dog.”
“One like Nonna’s,” Papà said. “Back when you’d help her in her gardens.”
“We have a huge garden.” Audrey smiled at Papà. “Frankie was singing as she harvested baby salad greens.”
Frankie smiled at the memory. She’d been singing “Yesterday”, the old Beatles’ tune when everyone had joined in to create a lovely four-part harmony.
“You’re part of his family—and this town, aren’t you?” Anja said, and Frankie could hear a note of envy. “It suits you, too. No wonder you’re so happy here.”
“Now,” Frankie heard Caz whisper to JJ, “now, they finally see her clearly.”
Birgit pursed her lips. “You actually found a guy who has no intention of being part of Bocelli’s.”
Mama made an appalled sound, then sighed. A sigh of acceptance.
Bull only laughed. “I like to think that I found her, and I’m doing my best to convince her to stay here.” His voice dropped, and he cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze to his dark eyes. “Ms. Bocelli, I’ll follow you to New York if I have to, but I’m pretty convinced you’d be happier here in Alaska.”
He’d move to New York to be with her? She stared at him, seeing the firm line of his mouth, the set of his jaw. The honesty.
He’d go with her, even though he belonged here in Alaska.
She belonged here, too. This was her place.
Eyes filling with tears, she saw Gabe starting to smile, Audrey beaming. Caz nodded at her, and JJ grinned because they knew her decision without her speaking.
Because they knew her. They saw her.
They were her family.
And Bull was her man. She looked up at him, into eyes the color of the darkest sky. “I love you. And I belong here.”
“Yeah, you do.” He leaned down, forehead against hers, and whispered. “Here, with me.”