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“Mr. Bailey, I am poor. I am beyond poor. I have been forced to borrow money from some very questionable men just to pay for my medical treatments. I have gone to great lengths to ensure that those men have no idea I have a family, let alone a daughter. Once I am dead, there is nothing they can do to get their money back, no one they can hurt. If Pierce doesn’t know who Chloe’s mother is, he can’t make any connections that might get him, or Chloe, hurt. So, please. Just do this for me.”

Bailey sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. “All right, Arie. I will help you. But let’s make one thing very clear. I don’t want any dirty money making its way into my accounts. Nothing that started out in the pocket of a loan shark. So… I’m going to do this pro bono.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I feel guilty for being suspicious of him. “Thank you, Mr. Bailey.”

He nods. “Call me Roger. We’re going to get this sorte

d out for you, Arie. We’re going to make sure your little girl is safe.”

It’s the first piece of good news I’ve had in months, and for a moment, I feel at peace.

Pierce

New York City, 2016

It’s my first day at CSL, and I feel like everyone is treating me with kid gloves. My dad has appointed me head of Overseas Logistics and Security Maintenance, which sounds a lot more complicated than it is. But truthfully, I’m far more qualified for it now than I was before, when I had nothing to my name but a degree earned with straight C’s and a bad attitude. At least now, when people contact us looking for help organizing security details in Europe and the Middle East, I have the experience to advise them properly.

It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like I’m in over my head, especially since I have no assistant yet. My father’s assistant keeps running back and forth, trying to help me acclimate. It’s not even 10am, and I’ve already had a total of seven people come in and out of my office, expecting me to know answers to questions I don’t even remotely understand. My head is spinning, and my leg is starting to ache a little more than I care to admit, so I opt to take a few seconds just to set my head on my desk to regroup. I hear an insistent cough from just outside my office door. I know I should sit up, and be professional, but I just don’t have it in me.

Instead, I raise my voice enough that they can hear me even though I’m still face down.

“Whatever it is, if you could take it down to Melody at James Cochran’s office, I’d appreciate it. Just a little swamped at the moment.” I’m sure I look like I’m full of shit, but hey. It’s my first day. But the person just coughs again, and doesn’t move.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’re Mr. Pierce Cochran, correct? Mr. Pierce John Cochran?”

I finally look up, and when I do, I’m not entirely sure what to make of the scene that lays before me. A man stands in my doorway, a chubby man in an ill-fitting suit with the twirled mustache of a cartoon villain. And he’s holding a little girl. She’s somewhere between one and two years old, and she has curly blonde ringlets, and huge green eyes. Eyes that look a lot like my own.

“I am. I mean. Yes? The company daycare is on the third floor. I’m not sure what I can do for you up here.” Even as I say the words, I know that’s not why this man is here. Everything in my heart is telling me that my day is about to get a lot more complicated than dropped phone calls and missed staff meetings. The man walks into my office and sits down without being asked, as the little girl smiles and giggles in his lap. He looks equal parts exhausted and amused.

“Mr. Cochran. My name is Roger Bailey and I am a private practice attorney that handles mostly real estate and the occasional wills and trusts. But recently, I had a new client come to me with a very interesting request, and given the nature of that request, and the timeliness of it, I couldn’t turn them down. So, Mr. Cochran, here we are.”

I try to remain calm, and focus on the lawyer, instead of the little girl, who I swear is looking straight through to my soul. “And may I ask who exactly the other half of ‘we’ is?”

He bounces the little girl on his knee, and she laughs in a way that feels familiar, yet entirely foreign. “This is Chloe Louise Cochran, your daughter.”

The silence that fills the room is louder than anything I could possibly say. I’m not even sure how long I am sitting there, just staring at the little girl. Eventually, the lawyer gets impatient and clears his throat. “Mr. Cochran?”

“My daughter? That’s ridiculous. She’s what? Two-years-old? Where has she been all this time? Who is her mother? And how do I know I’m really her father? This could be a shake-down.”

Bailey reaches into the briefcase at his side and pulls out a stack of papers, sliding them across the desk to me. “Ridiculous or not, Mr. Cochran, it’s the truth. You are welcome to have a DNA test conducted to prove parentage but I’m sure you’ll find that everything is in order. As far as the identity of little Chloe’s mother, I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

“Confidential? What the hell do you mean confidential? You have to tell me who her mother is!”

Bailey points to the paper at the top of the stack. “I don’t, actually. You see, the mother was in a very… precarious position that left her unable to care for the girl, and it was her wish that Chloe be allowed to move on without you coloring her life with memories of her mother. So, you will find that all traces of the little girl’s parentage unrelated to you will be impossible to find.”

“How did you manage that?” I sputter out.

“Never you mind. All that matters now is that Chloe is cared for, per her mother’s request of me. And I am quite sure that you don’t want to see this sweet little angel, your daughter, end up in the system. Can I count on you to make sure that doesn’t happen, young man?”

I sit, staring at this squat little man, holding a perfect little baby with my facial features, and have no idea what to do. I can’t even remember ever holding a baby, let alone considering becoming a father. I feel like I’m going to be sick, and can’t seem to be able to form any kind of coherent sentence. Everything coming out of my mouth is gibberish.

“I don’t. I can’t. Where. How. I’m just. I’m here. You. But she. You. Me. Why. Uh… yes?”

The next thing I know, Chloe is sitting in my lap, Bailey is handing me his business card, and walking back out my door as suddenly as he appeared. I look down at Chloe, her long eyelashes fluttering and her little hands reaching out to me, and I do the only thing I can think of. I pick up the phone on my desk and dial.

“Mom? Can you come to the office?... No, now. It’s… an emergency.”

Part Two