RISK (15 page)

Ellie

A daughter. He has a daughter.

I didn't bother to ask his assistant any questions after Nolan left his office with Crew. I doubt she would have told me anything. Eda doesn't strike me as the type to gossip about her boss behind his back. Besides, this is something that I need to discuss with Nolan. It's a child. He's a father to a little girl.

I got up from the chair in Nolan's office after what felt like four hours. It was only a few minutes. I went down to the store and finished my shift. I spent the entire afternoon glancing at my phone, hoping to hear anything from Nolan. Nothing came. Not a text or a call.

I took a detour on my way home, walking past the building that his driver dropped him off at last night. It's a luxury high-rise that caters to some of Manhattan's elite. You don't secure an address there without a trust fund or a successful business in your portfolio.

The doorman gave me a curt nod as I passed by. I didn't stop to ask him if I could go up to see Nolan. I haven't been invited. I understand why now.

"He told you that he's never had a girlfriend and yet he has a daughter?" Adley dips her spoon into the container of cookie dough ice cream she pulled out of our freezer. "This has to be one of those broken condom babies."

I scowl as I look at her. "It's Nolan's daughter, Ad. Even if she wasn't planned, she's his daughter."

She quiets, her lips thinning as recognition brightens her eyes. I'm a baby that was the result of a mistake. My mother told me as much before she died. My father said otherwise after we'd buried her. I knew it was my mom telling me the truth. They never lived in the same house. I don’t recall a time the two of them were together in a room, other than at the funeral home when he paid for her service and kissed the dark wood of her coffin as tears streamed down his face.

"When they talked about Crew's niece they must have been talking about her," I murmur. "That's why he had the hay on his shoulder and the earring on his ear. It was because of her."

"They seem close enough to be brothers," Adley offers. "Kids are fun, Bean."

They are fun. Every moment I ever spent with Jayce, Tad's seven-year-old son, was a treasure to me. I didn't think I'd love him when I first met him, but the deep love I developed for him drove me to beg Tad to move his company headquarters to Las Vegas so we could be closer to Jayce after Tad's ex-wife remarried.

Our visits with him were limited to every Wednesday night and alternating weekends, but I made the most of the time. When Tad dumped me, I lost Jayce too. I never saw him again even though I held tightly to the faint hope that Tad would let me say goodbye to him. That never happened.

"I know they are." I cover my mouth with my hand. I don't want to say Jayce's name because it hurts so much when I think of him. Adley knows that. She's shied away from talking about him since Tad left me.

"Your nieces are a blast. You love them like mad."

I do love them. All three of them are unique, even though the two eldest are identical twins. I can tell them apart because I've known them since the moment they were born seven years ago.  Megan has a freckle on the tip of her nose that her twin sister, Melrose, doesn't have.

"I haven't seen them since I've been back," I admit. "I miss them."

"Queens is a subway ride away." She rests her spoon on the table. "We can go see them this weekend. I'd love to see them again."

The slight change in subject is helping, but not enough to make me forget that the man I had sex with last night has a child. "Why do you think he didn't tell me about her?"

She places the lid back on the ice cream container. "Can I get real, Bean?"

"I guess?" I shrug my shoulders. "Have you not been real up to this point?"

Her eyes drop to the table before she looks at me straight-on. "I don't think he tells most of the women he's fucking about his daughter. If I had a kid, I don't know if I'd tell a random guy I hooked up with that I was a mom. Actually, I know that I wouldn't. It's private. It just seems to me that it's one of those things you tell a person you know has potential."

Her words mirror the thoughts that have been playing on a loop in my mind all afternoon. I've tried to reverse the roles and placed myself in Nolan's shoes. I doubt like hell I'd tell a man if I had a child unless I knew it was something he needed to know because our relationship warranted it. I know, without a doubt, that I wouldn't let him meet my child until I knew there was a foundation with some strength between us.

With Tad it was different. We'd known each other for months before we ever hooked up. I knew about Jayce long before I fell in love with Tad. I sometimes wonder if my love for Jayce skewed my feelings for Tad.

"What about her mom?" Adley goes on when I don't respond. "Has he said anything at all about who that might be? He has to have a relationship with her, even if it's just a cordial passing off of their daughter during parental visits."

"No, not a word." I open the ice cream container back up and dip in my spoon. I didn't take Adley up on her offer to indulge when she pulled it out of the freezer. Now, with the added stress of thinking about the mother of Nolan's child, I can't resist the temptation. "He's never mentioned a woman to me other than Shelby."

"The thief he was having dinner with at Meadow?"
              "That's her." I let the ice cream melt on my tongue before I swallow. "I don't know who he had a child with."

"You'll find out soon enough." She raises her spoon in the air as if to toast. "Here's to Nolan's baby mama. Let's hope she's everything he never wants again."

I laugh to bite back the anxiety I feel. My parents thought they hated each other for years and yet, my dad died still as in love with my mom as the day I was conceived.

***

"You're sure it's not too late, Ellie?" Nolan takes a deep breath. 

I stand at the doorway to my apartment, dressed in only a pair of shorts and my NYPD T-shirt. The shirt was a gift from Adley when I graduated from college. She knows I hope to replace it with a full uniform one day.

"I told you it wasn't." I did say that when he called fifteen minutes ago. That was close to midnight. I'd brushed my teeth and gone to bed when my phone started to ring. I answered immediately and was relieved when he said that everything was okay. I agreed to let him come over because I know that all the questions I have for him will keep me wide awake.

"Where's your roommate?" His eyes scan the interior of the apartment. "Her name is Adley, right?"

"Yes." I step aside so he can enter. "She works at a vet clinic. She was called in for an emergency."

"She's a vet?" The cock of his brow doesn't hide his surprise.

Adley is too often mistaken for a typical blond with big tits. She owns that but only because she's confident in her intelligence. She knows she brings a lot to the table and to any person who spends the time to get to know her. "She will be. She's an assistant right now."

He nods. He skims his hands over the jeans he's wearing. "Can we sit down and talk?"

I like to pace when life throws me a curveball. More often than not, I walk. I can put miles on my running shoes in a day if I feel stress. I already did that tonight after I ate too much ice cream.

I took on the paths of Central Park when the sun was setting. It was filled with people, but with my earbuds in and my favorite songs on repeat, I was able to find my center again. It feels out of reach again now that Nolan has walked through my door.

"Do you want anything?" I stand when he takes a seat on the fabric couch that came with the place. "I only have water or juice. I can make coffee if you want."

"No." He takes a deep breath. "Please sit, Ellie. Let me explain."

I sit far from enough from him that I'm satisfied he can't reach out and touch me. I don't want that. I can't feel his skin against mine as I listen to this. "What's your daughter's name?"

He looks surprised. He swallows before he answers. "May. Her name is May."

"May," I repeat it quietly. "It's pretty."

"She's pretty." His brows are drawn. "I'd tell you that she's the prettiest girl in the world, but I'm her dad, so my perception is skewed. Aside from that, she is the prettiest little girl I've ever seen."

"What does she look like?"

He moves. His legs spread as he reaches toward his front pocket but then he stops. "I could show you some of the pictures I have on my phone but I'd much rather you see for yourself in person. I'd like you to meet her."

I'd like that too. I think. At some point, I would like it. Not now. Not yet.

He looks at me pensively. "I don't tell the women I spend time with about May. I haven't until now. I'm protective of her. I need to be."

"Aren't all fathers protective of their daughters?" I ask with a smile. 

"I suppose they are." He studies the room we're in. There's nothing notable about it but his gaze slides over every piece of furniture and the framed pictures of Adley's family.

He's waiting. Waiting for me to say something. Anything.

"I meant what I said in my office earlier, Ellie." He shifts in his seat, moving closer to where I am. "I'd like us to date exclusively. I realize I made the suggestion before you knew I was a single dad, but I still want us to spend time together."

I nod, but what comes out of my mouth isn't fueled by my desire to date him. It's driven by my need to know more about his daughter, and her mother. The woman he made love to and created a life with. "What's your relationship with May's mom like? Is it civil? Do you see her often?"

Closing his eyes, he bows his head, his hand scrubbing over the back of his neck. "I don't see her. I don't know her. I have no idea who May's mother is."

Nolan

She looks at me the way you'd expect a woman to look at a man who she believes is throwing bullshit in her direction.

I brace for the question. It's the same question I've heard from my family, from Crew, and before his death, even my grandfather sat me down and looked me in the eye before he asked it.

"You don't know who her mother is? How is that possible, Nolan?"
              When you fuck so many women that you can't remember names or faces it suddenly becomes possible.

When you look into the face of a baby and see only yourself reflected back, it becomes possible.

"May was left just inside the lobby doors of the building I took you to last night. She was an infant. There was a note with her addressed to me. It was handwritten but untraceable. There was nothing else left with her other than a blanket and the diaper she was wearing."

Her eyes flick across my face at lightning speed. "Someone just left her all alone?"

I nod. "The doorman found her once she started crying. He called me and I called the police."

"The police?" There's no judgment in her tone. It's a simple question.

"I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I needed to make sure she was all right, so I called 911."

She moves slightly, closer to me, although her hands remain stiff in her lap. "What happened then?"

It's a blur, but it's not. I was floating on something back then. It was fear and joy. Hope and disbelief. "I demanded a DNA test and that I be allowed to take her back home with me."

"Were you able to?" she asks, running her hands over her knees. "Did they let you take her home?"

"My lawyer fought hard, but yes." I sigh. "There were stipulations including my sister and her husband agreeing to become May's temporary guardians. They'd adopted a boy a few months before so the court saw that as a plus. The three of them needed to move in with me temporarily, but their presence guaranteed May could stay."

"That's why you moved to another apartment," she breathes. "You needed the room."

"I negotiated a rental agreement the day May was released from the hospital and the nursery was fully equipped within hours. I bought the place a week later."

"She was in the hospital?"

"A precaution," I explain. "There was no record of her birth. We had no idea if there were complications, but thankfully she was fine. A bit premature, but fine."

"When did you know for certain that she was your daughter?" The first sign of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"The first time I held her." I look directly into her eyes. "In that lobby, I picked that baby up and looked down at her and I knew. I knew she was mine."

***

I asked for a glass of water to chase down the lump in my throat. It did little good. It was worth it, though. Ellie sat closer to me when she brought me the glass. So close that I can reach out to touch the bare skin of her legs. I haven't, but the temptation is there.

"What happened today?" Her eyes catch mine. I see her genuine concern. It was there when I left my office in a mad rush earlier and it was still there when she opened her apartment door to let me in. "Is she all right?"

Yes.

No.

She's perfect except for her shattered heart.

"She'll be fine." I lean back into the couch. "May's dog died a few weeks ago. It was her first loss. She's having a difficult time adjusting."

"Losing a pet can be very hard." Her lips turn down until she's frowning. Her brows pinch together. "I had a dog once. I remember how deeply I mourned that loss."

Kip had a dog; a feisty little Yorkie mix. She'd give it some of the food I would bring her, making it sit at attention before she'd pull off her mitten and feed it from her hand.

"
What kind of dog was it?" I hone in on the opportunity to connect Ellie to Kip.

"A sweet one." She segues effortlessly into her next question. "What kind of dog did May have?"

"A beagle. Old and crotchety but she loved that fool with everything she has."

"Was it your dog before May arrived?" Her eyes brighten.

"What do you think?" I relax, resting my arm on the back of the couch.

Her brows shoot up with the question. She cradles her chin in her hand, studying my face carefully. "I think not. You don't seem like the kind of man who would have a dog unless his little girl wanted one."

"You're right," I say slowly as I lean closer to her. "She wanted to adopt a dog, so we went to the shelter and Barney gave her those old doggy eyes and she fell in love."

"You'd give her the moon if she asked, wouldn't you?" Her mouth curves into a soft smile. 

"I'd hold her up and let her take it from the sky." I would. I can give my daughter everything she wants, but I can't give her one single detail about her mother.