CHAPTER 33 | Finn
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Architectural Digest once called our house ‘a vision of warm lights and airy spaces,’ but right now it’s dark and the four stories seem impossibly close to the ground. I swing my car through the wrought-iron gates and gas it up the drive.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Merrick asks, his voice sounding a bit tinny coming through the Bluetooth speaker system. “You sound like you’re driving like a maniac.”
“That’s because you drive like an old lady.”
“I’m trying not to get pulled over. I drive a red Porsche. It’s like cat-nip for police officers.”
“Nothing about that car says ‘cat-nip.’ Inadequate p***s size on the other hand? Yes.”
“Bitchy. Nice. You’re clearly in a great state of mind to confront your father.”
I scowl. I hate it when he’s right. I dow
