Sam - Two Days After Chloe’s Birthday
“No more handing over cash.”
Arthur Halloway leaned back in his leather chair, his weathered hands folded across the mahogany desk between us. The senior partner at Halloway, Finch & Associates had to be pushing seventy, but his eyes were sharp behind wire-rimmed glasses as he studied me with the kind of penetrating gaze that made me feel like a kid caught stealing candy.
“I understand, but she needed—”
“I don’t care what she needed, son.” His tone was firm but not unkind. “From this moment forward, everything gets documented. Every dollar you spend on this child — if he is indeed your child — gets paid by card, so there’s a paper trail. You keep a spreadsheet. Dates, amounts, what it was for. And you keep me updated on every interaction.”
I nodded, feeling like I was already drowning in the complexity of this situation. I’d driven here first thing this morning because I knew I needed help. Real help before Imade any more mistakes. Arthur had handled my business incorporation and the property purchase for The Copper Fox.
But I wasn’t here just for advice on handling Jenna. I needed to understand my rights, my obligations, and most importantly, how this would affect Chloe and me.
“I need to understand what I’m looking at here,” I said. “Backdated child support — if he’s mine, what does that look like? Four years of payments I’ve missed. And does Jenna have any claim on my assets? The bar, my house?”
Arthur held up a hand. “Paternity test. Before we discuss any financial arrangements, any custody considerations, any legal obligations whatsoever, paternity test.”
“But Arthur, you should see him. He has my eyes, my cowlick, even the way he concentrates on things—”
“I’ve been practicing law for forty-three years, Sam. You know how many times I’ve heard ‘you just have to look at him to know’?” He shook his head slowly. “I’ve seen men convinced they were fathers who weren’t. I’ve seen men convinced they couldn’t be fathers who were. Physical resemblance means nothing in a court of law. DNA means everything.”
“I know he’s mine,” I said quietly.
“Maybe he is. Probably he is, based on what you’ve told me about the timeline and the mother’s certainty. But we don’t build legal and financial arrangements on ‘probably.’ We build them on documented facts.” He pulled out a legal pad and made a note. “I’ll give you the name of a lab that can do expedited testing. You’ll need samples from you, the child, and ideally the mother, though maternal samples aren’t strictly necessary.”
“How long for results?”
“Standard processing is seven to ten business days. Expedited can be as fast as 24 hours.” He looked at me over his glasses. “But you do pay for it. I’m assuming you want the fastest option available?”
“Yes. Whatever it costs.”
“Fine. Get the samples done immediately, pay for the 24-hour rush, and we’ll have answers within a day or two at most. Once — and only once — we have confirmation, then we discuss child support, custody arrangements, and a formal agreement with the mother.”
I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. “And in the meantime? She’s staying in motels with a four-year-old. I can’t just—”
“You can, and you will, document everything.” Arthur’s voice was stern. “If you pay for a motel room, you pay with your credit card, and you save the receipt. If you buy the child anything — clothing, food, toys — credit card, receipt, spreadsheet entry. If you meet with them, you note the date, time, location, and duration in your records. Do you understand why this matters?”
“To protect myself legally?”
“To protect yourself, yes. But also to protect the child.” His expression softened slightly. “If this woman is genuinely in need and you are the father, proper documentation ensures everything is handled correctly from the start. If she’s not genuine — and I’m not saying she isn’t, but I’ve seen desperate people do desperate things — you need proof of exactly what you’ve provided and when.”
The desperation in Jenna’s voice had seemed real. But Arthur was right that I needed to be careful.
“One more thing,” Arthur said, his tone gentler now. “Try not to get too emotionally attached to the child until the paternity test comes back.”
Too late for that. The moment Leo had asked if I was his daddy, something had shifted in my chest. But I just nodded.
“I have to ask this,” Arthur continued, his expression serious. “If the test comes back positive, is there any chance of you and this woman getting back together?”
“What? No. Absolutely not. Zero chance.” The answer came without hesitation. “Jenna and I were a summer fling five years ago. We had fun, but there was never anything deeper there. If she goes back to Chicago, I’ll provide financial support and work out visitation based on what works for Leo, Chloe, and me. If she stays here in the area, we’ll co-parent. That’s it. There’s no scenario where Jenna and I become a couple.”
Arthur nodded, making a note. “Good. That simplifies things considerably. Courts look more favorably on arrangements where the parents have a clear, professional co-parenting relationship rather than complicated romantic entanglements.”
“The only woman I want a future with is Chloe,” I said firmly. “That’s why I need to know how this affects us. What Jenna could potentially claim, what my obligations are. I need to protect what Chloe and I are building.”
“Understood.” Arthur set down his pen and fixed me with that penetrating stare again. “So how is Chloe taking all of this?”
The question landed like a punch to the gut.
