Page 104 of Joey

“Pictures?” Brooke says.

“And you must be Wald,” Conner says, ignoring Brooke’s questioning response. “And Huck.” He shakes hands with each of them. “Nice to finally meet you all.”

“I’m sorry,” Huck says. “I’m at a disadvantage here. Who are you?”

Michael Conner barely reacts. He’s tough, I’ll give him that. But there is a reaction. Stiffness. Like Huck’s question was an affront. “Michael,” he says. “Conner. Maisy’s father.”

Huck laughs and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yeah, OK. So…” He looks around. “Where is she?”

Michael looks at me and says, “You’ll see her soon. But I thought we could have tea first.” He turns to Brooke. “Do you like afternoon tea, Miss Alder?”

Brooke just shrugs. She is definitely out of her league here.

“Where’s the family?” I ask.

“I’m representing them today,” Michael says.

“And who are you again, exactly?” This time it’s Wald. “Because the whole reason we’re here is because you really aren’t Maisy’s father.”

Michael looks at me. “I married Charlotte four years ago.”

“OK,” I say.

“We had a daughter. We have a daughter. Aside from Maisy.”

“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t realize that.”

“No. No reason you should. All that going on out there,” he says, panning his hand to the window, “is for her birthday party. It’s tomorrow. So… while I’m glad you’re here for Maisy’s sake, it was rather inconvenient timing.”

“Sorry about that,” I say. “I didn’t choose the day Maisy pressed my contact in someone’s phone. That is how she got a hold of me, right?”

He nods, but says nothing.

“And she knew who I was.”

“She doesn’t know you’re her father.”

“Then who does she think I am? Because she called me Joey.”

“She thinks you’re her mother’s close friend. She was hoping you knew where Charlotte was.”

“Her friend,” I say.

“You have to understand. You haven’t been here. I’ve been here. Maisy has a little sister now. We’re a family.”

“She’s not your kid,” Huck growls.

“Maybe not biologically, but…” He looks at me. “She is my daughter.”

“So what do you want?” I ask. “Why am I here?”

“I want you to make the right choice.”

“And what?” Wald interjects. “Walk away?”

Michael Conner shrugs. “That could be the right choice. But it doesn’t have to be. I guess you’ll know better once you meet her.”

“Which should happen now,” I say. “I’m here. She’s here. This is why we came. Where is she?”