“That’s not true.”
“All right. He’d leave it to you before me,” I add. “You’re the son he wishes he had.”
Caison stops walking and looks at me. “You’re misjudging him.”
“Am I?”
“He’s a good man,” Caison says carefully. “And I think you should give him a chance.”
I don’t respond.
When we reach his office, Pop is already there. He looks up from Caison’s desk.
“Morning,” he says. “How’d it go with Darby?”
“Fine.”
Caison hands me a folder. “This is everything we need filled out so Carla can get your payroll set up.”
I open it, scanning the pages. Tax forms. Insurance.
“Insurance covers Ruby too?” I ask.
“Yes,” Caison says. “As soon as we have the info.”
I freeze.
Because I don’t have it.
I don’t know Ruby’s legal last name.
I don’t know her Social Security number.
I don’t know her exact date of birth. All her mother said when she showed up with her was that she was born in September, the year after our affair. I bought a cake, and we celebrated her turning four, but I just chose a random day.
Holland’s jaw tightens the second he realizes what’s wrong.
“You left Vegas without any of that?” he snaps.
I bristle. “I wasn’t exactly thinking along these lines at the time.”
“You should’ve found her mother,” he continues. “Had her sign custody over to you.”
“I didn’t have that option.”
“You need that information, son,” he says sharply. “What if she needs medical care? How do you plan to sign her up for school?”
“I get it,” I bite out. “I’m new at this. Figuring it out as I go along.”
Pop exhales hard. “Her mother’s name?”
I hesitate. “Candy.”
He stares at me. “Candy?”
“I don’t think it was her real name,” I admit. “I don’t know a last name.”
He rubs his temples. “You said you worked at the same club.”
