This cannot be happening.
But it can’t be a coincidence. Why else would a stranger come looking for me at ten o’clock at night when he’s clearly far from home?
After a lot of soul searching, I reached out to Auntie Eileen’s friend at the adoption agency a few weeks ago. I told her I’d like to receive a copy of my original birth cert. She said she’d fill in the paperwork and get things moving, but it wouldn’t be released to me until I was eighteen. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, I was going to do with it, but now it looks like that decision has been taken out of my hands.
I push off the wall a little and straighten up. It’s a miracle my voice rings out loud and clear when I’m shaking on the inside. “Who are you?” I ask though I suspect I already know.
“My name is Simon Lancaster. I’m your father.”
12
AGE 17
Rage is instantaneous, and I don’t hold back. I blurt my emotions without hesitation. “You’re not my father. My father is Eugene O’Donoghue, and he’s ten times the man you are. You’re just a DNA contributor.”
“If this attitude is any indication, I’d say the way he raised you is definitely lacking, and your statement is questionable in the extreme.”
I grab his shirt and get all up in his face. “You don’t get to show up out of the blue after giving me up and disrespect my parents. If I have an attitude, it’s becauseyourDNA flows in my veins.”
He grips my wrist. “Take your hand off me. Now.”
I’m tempted to smash his face into the wall, but I let him go because it’s obvious he has money, and he’s already proven he doesn’t give a shit about me, so it wouldn’t take much for him to come after me if I hurt him. I try to calm down. “Why are you here?”
“We need to have a conversation. We’ll talk in my car.”
“We’ll talk right fucking here.” I fold my arms and glare at him. There’s no way I’m going anywhere with this man.
He looks all around and up at the sky. “I’m not speaking out in the open,” he says, lowering his gaze and refocusing on me. “Get in the car.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re just proving I was right to give you up.” His cold tone matches the icy sheen in his eyes.
“Again. Fuck you.” I shove past him. “I don’t care what you have to say. Just fuck off and leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.” I’m grinding my teeth as I walk off.
“Half a million dollars says you want to hear me out,” he calls after me.
Nowthatgets my attention. I slow to a stop a few feet away from his BMW.
He catches up, stopping in front of me again. “I have a valid reason for being here. I just need five minutes of your time. I know you’ve reached out to the adoption agency in London and you’re curious. Listen to what I have to say, sign on the dotted line, and I’ll deposit the money in your bank account. Then we can both go back to our lives and pretend like this never happened. We don’t ever have to see one another again.”
Wow, he’s a real piece of work. He’s only shown up because he wants something from me, and as soon as he gets it, he’ll disappear for good. Why the fuck would I give him anything? He abandoned me, and he has no interest in having any kind of relationship with me. Hurt replaces the blood flowing through my veins, and I swallow thickly, averting my eyes before he sees any of that emotion on my face. Who cares if this asshole doesn’t want me? I don’t need him. I’ve gotten along fine without him up to this point.
I’m tempted to tell him to fuck off again, but I want to know why he’s here and what he’s proposing. Plus, half a million dollars is a lot of money. I’d be an idiot to turn it down without at least hearing what he has to say. Purposely shoving my hurtto one side, I school my features into a neutral line and meet his eyes. “Why look me up now?”
“You’ll have access to your birth certificate when you turn eighteen. It wouldn’t be difficult for you to find me or…” His gaze roams my face slowly. “It’s remarkable really.”
I frown. “What is?”
He stares at me for a few tense beats. Ignoring my question, he says, “I’m the CEO and part owner of a big movie production company. I thought I’d preempt things and save us both the awkwardness. I don’t want you, and it seems you don’t need me. No point in wasting either of our time.”
How can I have come from this wanker? Is he even human? Inside, I’m a whirlwind of explosive emotions. This has all come at me out of nowhere, and my emotions are ping-ponging all over the place. I refuse to let this jerk hurt me any more than he already has, so I cling to indifference and try to squash my anger and my pain. “Why should I trust you? How do I know you are even who you say you are?”
He removes a driving license from his wallet and shows it to me. The address says he lives in L.A. “This could be fake.” I have no clue what American licenses look like. I hand it back to him as he passes a folded piece of paper to me.
“That’s your birth certificate.”
I unfold the paper and examine the details. “This says the baby’s name is Rhett Lancaster.” I look up at him. “This isn’t me.”
