His private office outdoes the reception area's wealth display. A dark mahogany desk dominates the space, surrounded by leather-bound law books arranged with military precision. More Persian rugs, deeper colors. A wall of framed degrees and certificates behind his desk.
"Please, take a seat." White settles behind his desk, opening a leather portfolio.
Edison lies at my feet. Whatever's in that folder could destroy everything I've built with Posey these past five days.
White clears his throat. "It's about the paternity test you took."
Jesus Christ!My blood turns to ice.
Sensing my reaction, Edison nuzzles his face against my leg.
So this is it, I think.
How had it never occurred to me that Posey was not my biological daughter? For all I know, Alice could have become pregnant by some other man.
She may have never met me, but named me on the birth certificate because she was a fan of my music.
I should be relieved. If this were the case, tonight I could fly back to New York with my guitar and dog. Just the way I arrived.
And begin my old life first thing tomorrow morning.
But what of Posey?!
If I'm not in the picture, what's to become of her?
Will she become a ward of the state?
Spend the next dozen years living with Mrs. Bixby and Mrs. Bellows in that old house?
Or will she be sent to some fancy boarding school?
Christ, where will she spend her Christmas vacation?
"Mr. Crow," says White, looking at me. "May I have your attention?"
"Sorry. Continue."
"We have a small administrative matter to resolve," White says, pulling a single sheet from the portfolio. "Regarding your paternity test earlier this week."
"The results?" My voice comes out steady despite the panic clawing at my chest.
"The lab hasn't processed the test yet. This is about your signature on the consent form." He slides the paper across his desk. "Apparently, your signature was illegible."
I stare at the form, my signature a barely recognizable scrawl in the bottom corner.
"Odd that my bad penmanship could cause a holdup."
"With Miss Posey's unusually large inheritance, the court requires clear documentation for all legal proceedings. Your signature needs to be legible enough to hold up in probate court."
I reach for his Montblanc pen. "Of course."
"Anything else?" I slide the form back across his desk.
White studies my signature with professional satisfaction. "That should suffice. The court will have everything it needs to proceed."
I stand. But something in White's tone makes me pause. "Proceed with what, exactly?"
"The custody evaluation, of course. Two weeks, as originally discussed."
