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“Well…” Nick slid a sheaf of papers across the table to Liam. “Cora Matthews passed away last week.”
Liam let out a low whistle and sat back in his seat. His guilt intensified. He hadn’t expected to hear about Cora ever again. They didn’t run in the same circles, and they’d both moved on years ago. But the fact that she was dead still hit him hard.
At the same time, Liam’s confusion grew. A woman he’d known for a brief time some three years ago had passed away. He couldn’t fathom why his lawyer had called him into this emergency meeting just to notify him of that fact. Perhaps Nick thought that the two of them had been closer.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Liam opened the sheaf of papers. On the top was an obituary. Cora’s face, slightly older than Liam remembered, smiled up at him.
“Yes. Well, Cora’s death also involves you. She was young and never had time to create a will, so the care of her young daughter will pass on to the nearest living relative. In this case, the girl’s father.” Nick gave Liam a meaningful look. “Perhaps you understand where I’m going with this.”
Liam shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“I feared as much, since the two of you don’t seem to have been in contact.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “Cora’s daughter, Grace? You’re her biological father.”
Liam was already shaking his head. “No, that can’t be right. I took every precaution against pregnancy. And Cora never said anything. Surely she would have told me if she were pregnant.”
“Sometimes, precautions can fail. And Cora was pregnant. I did a little digging this morning and was able to find the original of Grace’s birth certificate.” Nick gestured to the papers, and Liam flipped through until he saw the birth certificate. Sure enough, Liam Bradshaw was listed as Grace’s father. And the little girl had been born in November, two and a half years ago. Liam counted back — he remembered he’d met Cora around Valentine’s Day. The bar had been decorated with brightly colored pink and red hearts, which they’d made fun of. The dates lined up.
Liam felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He was the father to a two-year-old girl whom he’d never met. He was a father.
“So, you’re telling me that I’ll have custody of… Grace?” Liam asked.
Nick nodded. “Exactly. She was placed briefly with a foster family while social services tracked you down, but now that you’ve been found — yes. Grace will be fully in your custody.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Liam said, his voice low. “I’m not cut out to be a father. And even if I were, I’m not ready. I don’t have any diapers, or bicycles, or whatever two-year-olds need.” Liam designed educational products for children, but only those who were school-age and up — not toddlers. He had no idea what toddlers were all about.
“Liam. If I may speak candidly?”
Liam nodded.
“No one is ever ready to be a father.” Nick smiled distantly. “When I found out my wife was expecting our first child, I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to figure out what on earth I was supposed to do. Granted, I had a little more time to prepare than you do. But whether or not you feel ready isn’t important. What’s important is that there’s a little girl out there who needs you. And you need to be there for her, whatever it takes.”
Liam recognized the truth in Nick’s words, even though he didn’t want to. Because of the company he ran, people tended to assume that Liam liked kids. But he didn’t. His experience with Jamie, the little ice cream-smearing boy, earlier today had only reinforced that. Liam didn’t particularly like children. He didn’t know what to do with them. And despite everything, he’d never wanted his own.
And he still didn’t.
Yet Nick had made an inescapably good point. This little girl needed someone — and right now, that could only be Liam. He could work this out. There were nannies and boarding schools and tutors.
“You’re right.” Liam clapped his hands down on his thighs. “When am I meeting the child?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say my daughter.
“That’s another thing.” Nick looked slightly uncomfortable. “Social services were eager to get her settled. I urged them to give me a chance to speak to you first, but a social worker is playing with Grace in the park across the street. They’d like you to come get her now.”
Once again, Liam felt that all the air had been knocked from his lungs. Not only was he suddenly, unexpectedly, a father, but he was supposed to meet his daughter right now. This was all too much to handle.
Still, he found himself nodding. “All right.”
In a trance, he followed Nick to the elevators and down into the lobby. They crossed the street to the park, where a thin woman with graying hair was sitting on a bench. She stood as Liam and Nick approached.
“Liam Bradshaw?” The woman extended a hand. “I’m Margaret Holt. It’s nice to meet you.”
Over the next half an hour, Liam heard a seemingly unending series of facts. Facts about his responsibilities. Facts about how social services would need to do a check on his home in the coming weeks, just to be sure that everything was ready, but how they wouldn’t be involved going forward since he was the child’s biological parent. Facts about Grace.
Yet Liam could hardly force himself to focus on the social worker’s words. He’d spotted the little girl. She was sitting underneath the play structure, her knees tucked up to her chest. She had pale blond hair, which was tied back in two messy pigtails, and Liam’s blue eyes. Her chin was resting on her knees. Around her, kids ran and shouted and laughed, but Grace just sat, looking impossibly small.
One thought ran through Liam’s mind, over and over. How am I supposed to do this?
CHAPTER 3
AMELIA
