Chapter 2: Noah

My son?  

I almost threw my head back and laughed out loud. Hadn’t they heard? Practically the whole state knew by now that the billionaire CEO of Hayes Winery, one of the most well-known wine labels in the country, had been declared medically unable to have children. No one could have missed that fiasco of a court case two years ago. 

“How long have you worked here as my secretary, Candice?” I called her by her first name, shocking her, knowing perfectly well that it would. I wanted to see her sweat a little for making such a huge mistake after all this time working for me.

“Five years in May, sir,” she replied timidly. 

“And during that time, how many people have come here demanding to see me because they’re family?”

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. “I’ve lost count, sir.”

“And I’m sure you know about my medical condition…”

She looked miserable now, staring at the floor as if hoping it would open and swallow her whole. That was enough of an answer.

“So, Candice,” I said, accentuating her first name again, and watched as she shivered in her polished black heels. “Tell me, did I hire a secretary that can’t make basic deductions?” 

She was looking everywhere except at me. “Uhm, sir … it’s just that he seems—”

“Please close the door behind you as you leave my office, Candice.” 

I diverted my attention to the file in front of me, showing her that I was done with this conversation.

Just thinking about the last time someone had claimed I was the father of a child left a bad taste in my mouth. About two years ago, a woman had shown up swearing I had gotten her pregnant. 

I remembered her name clearly. Cassie. Because of her, my business had suffered some setbacks during the time her case had dragged on. It’d been a hell of an annoying time for me, and the whole charade only got more embarrassing when the media decided to stick their sensation-seeking noses into it. 

The completely ridiculous drama they had turned it all into was what had led to my infertility becoming public knowledge. So whoever had come here expecting to con money out of me hadn’t even done their most basic research. Pathetic. Not even worth calling security for.

Candice, picking up on my anger levels coming to a boil, scampered away and out of my office without another word. I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. 

People are ridiculous, I thought as I leaned—or more like fell—back against the headrest of my office chair, glaring up at the ceiling as if it was to blame for souring my mood. 

Barely a minute passed when my door opened again. I sat up straight, about to yell at my secretary for bothering me again after I’d clearly told her to—

My eyes shot to the little boy she led into my office by the hand, and I was instantly floored. 

Now I knew exactly why Candice thought he was mine. He was a replica of me with pitch-black hair and big blue eyes. He was clutching a stuffed bear to his chest with one hand and holding out a picture to me with the other. It was a picture only Brianne could have had. 

The picture was from the first time we’d met. Both in our first year of college, we somehow ran into each other at the library on campus and ended up becoming study buddies. I remembered how we had jokingly sealed the deal with a picture. This picture. 

I had the same one tucked into my drawer underneath my socks at home, and Brianne was supposed to have the other. 

I grabbed the picture from the boy’s hand and stared at it. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. 

“Who gave you this?” I asked between clenched teeth. He looked scared when he saw the confusion and anger on my face. 

“My grandmother, Judy. She found it in my mommy’s stuff.” 

It took everything I had not to lose composure in front of this little kid—a kid who looked very much like me. It was a lot to process. 

Brianne and I had a baby? How was that even possible? She hadn’t said a word to me about it. Had it been her way of getting back at me? Or maybe this was another scam, albeit a very brilliant one. 

I paced around my office a few times before facing the boy again. “How old are you?”

“I’m five,” he said, showing me his palm with all his little fingers spread out. He almost appeared happy that I asked him.

It’d been about six years since Brianne disappeared from my life. 

I recalled her saying, “This is the last time you’ll see me.” 

I had thought she was bluffing at the time, that it had just been another one of our fights. We would always find a reason to get back together, no matter what. But that time things were different. I had caught her cheating on me, and though I was willing to work things out, I couldn’t trust her anymore. Somehow, my being angry and hurt about the situation led to her walking out.

Surely this kid can’t be mine. Regardless of the fact that he looks exactly like me, Brianne never wanted a kid. Heck, she didn’t even want to get married. Both of us were approaching our 40s, she was 37 and I was 39 when she cheated and left. 

“Where’s your mother?” I asked and looked at Candice. She was standing to the side, seeming as if she was expecting to get fired after this.

“I don’t think it was his mother who brought him here,” she answered, her voice a little high-pitched and uncertain. “He sort of just showed up on his own, but someone must have put him in the elevator.”

“My granny brought me here. She said it’s time for me to live with my daddy. Mommy died when I was a baby,” the boy said innocently, almost matter-of-factly. He was tilting his head up at me curiously, as if I should have known this already. “You’re my daddy, right?”

I couldn’t blink, breathe, or think straight. I stared at the boy as if he’d spoken in a foreign language before the sides of my face began to feel wet.

Was I breaking down in tears? Nope, definitely not. 

I didn’t know which part of this was more insane: me bawling in front of a five-year-old kid, or the fact that this very kid might actually be my son.