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Donnelley.”
    Like a kid getting handed a piece of candy, I crawled into the cart with a huge smile. I stowed my laptop behind me and checked out the controls. There was a key, a gas pedal, a brake pedal, and a couple buttons—probably lights and a horn. I turned the key, placing my hand on the shifter next to the wheel when it shimmied to a start.
    He climbed in and rested his briefcase on his lap.
    “Ready?” I asked, pushing the gear to “D.”
    “Take it away, Dale Earnhardt, Jr.”
    Laughing, I stepped on the gas and we lurched to a start. “Touchy, this thing.”
    “When was the last time you drove?” he asked, grabbing the handle on the dash.
    “Um…five years ago, I think. I didn’t have a car in college.”
    “Have you ever owned a car?” He pointed to the right. I couldn’t read what the sign posted on the corner of the grass said, but turned that way, anyway. Obviously he knew where he was going. And if not, it didn’t matter. It was only a golf cart, but it was fun.
    “I sold it for some college money.”
    “Excuse me if this is too personal, but your mother didn’t help you?”
    “She didn’t help, no. She’s…a bit self-centered. She grew up with a mother exactly the same, with the same affinity for married men. Some people become the opposite of how they were raised, and some…don’t.
    “She had two brothers—who I’ve never met. Being the youngest, with a mostly absent mother, she had to fend for herself a lot. They were cash poor and property rich, so when her mother died, she inherited a lot of property. Most she sold, then blew. So now she hoards what little she has left. She dates rich men and she keeps up with plastic surgery—paid for by the rich men.”
    “And you don’t blame her.” Hunter wasn’t asking a question, he was making a statement.
    I shrugged. “I do, in some ways. But she’s a product of her childhood. I’ve stopped trying to understand my mother, and blaming her won’t change who I am now.”
    “And you?”
    I followed his pointed finger to the path on the left. “I’m my father’s daughter. And he was a very loving, giving man. I was an accident. My mom didn’t want my dad—he wasn’t rich or anything. Handsome, but that’s about it. She was having fun, and the fun caught up with her.”
    “And he passed a few years ago, correct?”
    “Right after I got accepted to Stanford, yes. I’ve never seen him more proud.” Tears blurred my vision, as I remembered his beaming smile even though he was pretty sick with cancer at that point. “He always told me that I was his life’s treasure. That he hadn’t known what love was until I was put into his arms. I miss him.”
    Hunter was silent for a while. Finally he said, “And what happened after he passed?”
    “I was mostly on my own.”
    “That must’ve been hard. Especially without funds.”
    I shrugged again, pulling up in front of a sprawling building with a few golf carts parked haphazardly out front. I parked beside the closest and shut off the engine. “I had a few grants that I used for living expenses and worked a few hours in the library, so I made do. At the time I thought the overpriced education would open doors to fabulous and high-paying jobs…”
    “Bad timing. A few years earlier, and it would have.”
    “Yeah, that’s what Kimberly says every time she buys me lunch.” I climbed from the seat and grabbed my computer. “Although I did land a high-paying job, regardless of the field, so I have that going for me.”
    “Except for the additional requirements asked of you in the name of some rich man’s whim…”
    I glanced at Hunter as he opened the door for me. His expression was completely blank. It didn’t match the heavy tone he’d just used.
    “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, Hunter,” I said as we entered the building.
    We walked through the plush halls in silence. Decorative sconces lined the walls and a busy pattern confused my eyes underfoot.
    We