by Lizzie Shane
Not exactly the life she’d envisioned for herself ten years ago. Or even five. But, well, it wasn’t bad, as lives went. It kept her busy. Kept her from fixating on the dreams that were no longer open to her. She was happy. Mostly happy. Almost entirely happy. As long as she didn’t think too hard about going home for Christmas tomorrow, facing her past—
Something outside the window of the car caught her, shock cutting into her train of thought. “Is that a child?”
Ty looked up from Candy Crush with a distracted frown. “Where?”
They’d just pulled into his driveway and Andi pointed out the window. “On your front steps.”
He didn’t have a gate—which Andi had always thought was asking for trouble, especially with fans as rabid as his could be, but Ty was superstitious and didn’t want to move out of the house where he’d gotten his big break and the HOA for the neighborhood didn’t allow gates. So security had taken a backseat to superstition. And now there was an elementary schooler wearing a winter coat too heavy for LA, even in December, sitting on his front steps with a roller suitcase beside her.
“What the…?”
Andi was out of the car first, as soon as it stopped rolling, with Ty lagging behind. The girl had stood as soon as the SUV pulled into the driveway and now clutched the edges of her coat closed like she was freezing in the sixty degree weather. Andi mentally placed her age around ten. Bouncy black curls had been pulled into twin pom-poms on her head. Her skin had a rich, warm tone that spoke of mixed heritage and was particularly striking in contrast to her pale eyes.
Pale blue eyes. Crystal clear. Like pools you could get lost in.
The eyes made something uneasy clench in Andi’s stomach.
They were a dead giveaway.
And they were locked on Ty, filled with so much nervous hope and uncertainty that Andi’s heart clenched.
“Holy s—sleigh bells.” She barely caught herself before she swore in the girl’s face.
Ty Walker had a daughter. And from the bemused look on his face, he didn’t know it yet.
Chapter Two
The girl on his doorstep was over a decade younger than most of his fans, but Ty did what he always did when someone figured out his address. He turned on the charm and a thousand watt smile.
“Hey there, beautiful. What are you doing here all by yourself?”
A little knot of a frown gathered between her dark upward-slashing eyebrows. Cute kid. It was already obvious she was going to be a stunner when she grew up. Child actress maybe? Casting directors would flip for those eyes. She could even play his kid. Was that what this was? Some new ambush audition technique that stage moms were trying these days?
“Are you all right, honey?” Andi asked gently, approaching the girl with far more concern than Ty would have expected from his no nonsense PA. He’d more expected her to toss the girl out with a lecture on the unprofessionalism of showing up on someone’s doorstep uninvited, but apparently Andi could still surprise him.
Without a word, the girl extended a folded piece of paper that wavered slightly in her hand.
Andi unfolded the paper, scanning it quickly, a flicker of a frown passing over her face only briefly before being swallowed up in her usual no nonsense determination. She studied the child and didn’t look away from the girl as she handed the paper to Ty.
He took it, glancing down to find the note was short—no wonder it had only taken Andi a second to read it. Three sentences. But he couldn’t seem to make them make sense. He read the words over and over again, waiting for their meaning to penetrate, but it was like reading a foreign language. He could sound the syllables out, but even then they felt wrong.
I’m done paying for your mistakes. Since you’re so ready to be a father, meet your daughter. Merry Christmas.
But he didn’t have a daughter. He’d never had a daughter. And he’d always been careful. Being raised by a single mother, he understood the importance of a man taking responsibility for his actions and he never took chances. He couldn’t have a daughter who was, what? Eight or nine years old?
“Are you Ty Walker?”
Ty looked into those blue eyes that were an eerie reflection of his own. He’d never been so reluctant to acknowledge his own name. At this point he was almost hoping she was about to serve him with a subpoena as he admitted, “Yeah. That’s me.”
The girl nodded, studying him from head to toe. “Then I guess I’m your kid.”
“I don’t have a kid,” he said, the denial automatic—and Andi shot him a look that would have melted him down to a lump of charred flesh if looks could kill.
She turned to the girl. “What’s your name, honey?”
The girl flicked a glance between him and Andi, before settling on Andi. “Jade Garcia.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” Andi praised.
Ty frowned at his assistant. Why are we talking about beautiful names when we should be finding out what the hell is going on here? Andi was his fixer. She needed to fix this.
“Where are your parents?” he blurted out, and the girl’s—Jade’s—gaze went to the note he hadn’t realized he was crumpling in his hand. “Your other parents. Your mom.”
The girl—Jade—pressed her lips together and averted her eyes, but not before he caught the sheen of moisture. Ty had a feeling he really wasn’t going to like hearing about her mom.
He knew he was screwing this up, but shit.
This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t his life. He led a charmed life, damn it.
Yes, he’d recently decided he was ready for the next phase. Ready to meet the right girl and get married and have babies—but in that order. He’d announced he was ready for the next blessing and the universe was supposed to give it to him—preferably in the form of a supermodel with a secret desire to be a mom. That’s how his life had always worked. Women were climbing over one another for the shot at being the mother of his children. So why hadn’t this girl’s mother ever told him that he already had a kid? Especially when he’d gotten rich and famous. He’d had fake paternity claims before—
Realization shuddered through him on a wave of relief.
That was what this was. A fake paternity claim. She looked like him—okay, yes, that was definitely true—but lots of adorable little kids looked like him. Two of them had even been cast as his children in the movie he’d been promoting all week.
It was a hoax. A money grab. And as soon as that certainty passed through him, he could breathe again.
Charmed life, still on track.
A car pulled up beside the SUV and Andi’s eyes flared wide with panic. “The EW online crew.”
Or not so on track. He did not need this story all over the papers, even if it was a hoax.
Thankfully, Andi’s panic was fleeting and she instantly shifted into crisis mode, turning to his driver-slash-security guy who had hung back during the discussion with the mini-me on the front step. “Alan, could you help them unload their equipment? And take your time.”
Alan nodded—he’d had stranger requests over the years—and strolled over to greet the reporter and photographer while Andi turned back to the girl. “Are you hungry, Jade? I’m starving. Shall we get something to eat while your, um, Ty talks to these people?”
The girl glanced back and forth between Andi and Ty. Andi extended a hand toward her, the charm bracelet on her wrist jingling musically and Jade looked toward the sound, her eyes widening. Whatever she saw, she let his assistant usher her toward the front door.
Andi took command of the roller bag, meeting his eyes over her shoulder. “I’ve got her. You handle them.” She jerked her chin toward the crew—who hadn’t brought much gear after all and were already approaching. “Then we’ll talk about this.”
He nodded, intensely relieved that he just had to do what he was good at and charm the entertainment reporter walking toward him rather than be the one to manage the kid.
The fa
ke paternity kid.
Come to think of it, this was perfect. Fifteen minutes with Andi and the kid’s story would unravel completely. Andi would have the girl returned to her real parents within the hour. And he’d be back to his regularly scheduled life.
Ty slapped on a smile for the EW team. “Stephanie! It’s so good to see you again.”
* * * * *
Andi studied the odd assortment of food in Ty’s fridge and tried to figure out what she could feed his child
His child. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. And judging by the powerful waves of denial coming off Ty, neither could he.
It was a bachelor fridge, but the fridge of a bachelor who had earned every inch of his reputation as a player. Champagne, dark chocolate and strawberries for the ladies. Beer and gourmet salsa for guys’ night. Protein shakes of every flavor and variety for keeping his six pack in top money-making shape. His personal chef had left a single plate to be warmed up for his dinner that night—the low-fat food so artistically arranged it might have been designed for a magazine—but there were no normal, kid-friendly snacks sitting around.
“Do you like strawberries?” she asked Jade, pulling the carton out of the fridge and popping them open on the counter before heading to the pantry in search of some chips to go along with the salsa. No such luck. He probably had the personal chef make organic chips from scratch on poker nights.
As Andi closed the pantry door, a soft voice asked, “Are you his wife?”
“No!” Andi blushed as she reined in the volume, repeating, “No. Definitely not. I’m his personal assistant. My name’s Andi. Short for Andrea. And I promise I am not now, nor would I ever date Ty Walker. I just work here.”
A little wrinkled of concern formed between Jade’s eyebrows. “So he isn’t a good guy?”
“No, he’s a great guy, I just don’t see him like that—” Andi said reflexively, before she realized she was blathering at Ty’s daughter and she had no idea what kind of guy he was going to be toward her. Would he be great? Was he capable of it? Of course, that was assuming she really was his kid. The resemblance was uncanny and Andi wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but there were a lot of crazies in Hollywood. “Why do you think he’s your father?” Please have proof.
“When my mom died, my aunt went through her stuff and found his name. My aunt said she knew they knew each other in college, but she didn’t know that he was my dad. My mom was going to tell me on my next birthday, but…” Jade lifted one shoulder in a shrug, the movement almost lost inside the voluminous coat she still wore.
“How did she…?” Andi asked gently.
“Accident.”
Andi nodded, the single, curt word making her heart ache. She’d suspected as much, but having it confirmed was still hard to hear. She wanted to reach for Jade, huddled inside her jacket, looking so heartbreakingly alone, but instinct cautioned her to let the girl come to her. “I’m sorry. What was her name?”
“Laura.” Jade’s gaze fell to the charm bracelet on Andi’s wrist.
“So you went to live with your aunt?”
Jade wrinkled her nose. “For a while. My uncle didn’t like me sleeping in his man cave—said he’d never signed up for kids and he shouldn’t have to pay for someone else’s mistakes.”
Asshole, party of one. Andi held onto her temper, focusing on Jade. “Your uncle wrote that note?”
Jade nodded.
“He’s the one who brought you here?” And just left you on the doorstep like a freaking UPS delivery. At Jade’s second nod, Andi wanted to kick the uncle in the balls until he never had to worry about fathering children ever again—but first she’d have to find the asshole. “Where do you live?”
Jade’s gaze flicked to the side evasively. “I—I don’t know,” she stammered. “We just moved. My aunt got a new job and I don’t know where—”
“Were you near the ocean? The mountains? Desert?” Jade just shook her head repeatedly and Andi frowned—she should at least know the difference between snow and sand, but Jade’s face was carefully blank. She tried again. “You drove here, right? Do you remember how long it took?”
“I fell asleep in the car,” Jade answered quickly. Too quickly?
Andi took a different tack. “What grade are you in? Fourth? Fifth?”
“Sixth,” Jade corrected, indignant. “I’ll be twelve next month.”
Older than she looked. Andi tucked away the information. “What was the name of the school you went to?”
“I don’t know,” Jade insisted, a stubborn expression suffusing her face that reminded Andi jarringly of Ty.
Twelve was old enough to know where she lived. To know the name of her school.
She was lying.
But why? Did she not want them to check her story? Had she run away? Written the note herself? Was this some kind of scam? Or was her uncle really the kind of scumbag who could leave an eleven-year-old girl on a doorstep—and if he was, what other kinds of asshole behavior was he capable of? Alarm bells clanged in Andi’s mind. Was Jade scared they would send her back? She didn’t seem frightened, more manipulative, but what did Andi know about child abuse?
“If there’s a reason you don’t want to tell me—”
“I just forgot,” Jade snapped, then blushed at her own outburst and hunched down more on herself inside the coat.
Okay. Andi might need to call Child Protective Services before the end of the night, but right now priority one was making Jade feel safe. Then she could find out what had happened to her to bring her here. She eyed the untouched strawberry carton between them. “You know what? Let’s order pizza.”
All kids liked pizza, right?
Something cautiously optimistic kindled in Jade’s expression. Thank God for pizza. “What kind of toppings do you like?”
* * * * *
Ty finished the interview with Stephanie—whom he now recalled he hadn’t slept with at the Golden Globes, though she seemed more than willing to make up for that oversight at his earliest convenience. She pressed her business card into his hand, urging him not to be a stranger, and Ty kept his smile in place, trying not to show how distracted he was. How distracted he’d been for the entire interview and tour.
No matter how he tried to focus on Stephanie and her photographer, half of his attention had stayed locked on the kitchen. The one room he hadn’t shown the EW online team.
The girl was there.
He closed the front door behind a smiling Stephanie and leaned his back against it, taking a slow, deep breath.
Everything was going to be fine. This was a blip. A glitch. Nothing to worry about. Andi was taking care of it. His assistant might have a habit of looking at him like he was something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe, but she was ruthlessly efficient. And he needed that ruthlessness now.
The sound of a car engine starting drew his gaze out the front window and he watched the EW online crew pull away—realizing belatedly that his SUV was gone. Andi must have sent Alan on an errand.
Returning the girl where she belonged already?
The thought shot relief through him and he took his first deep breath in an hour. Thank God for Andi. Freaking miracle worker. He hadn’t even had to call his lawyer.
Whistling a Christmas carol to himself, he wandered toward the swinging doors to the kitchen—open concept was all the rage, but when he’d done his big addition two years ago he’d kept the kitchen enclosed since it was more his chef’s domain than his own. Now he was particularly grateful for that decision because it had given Andi somewhere to hide the girl while he showed the EW crew around the Winter Wonderland Andi had made of his house. Christmas dripped from every eave—until January first when it would all be taken down with Andi’s trademark ruthless efficiency. Just another part of his well-ordered life.
He heard Andi’s voice before he pushed open the door and had only a moment to wonder who she was talking to b
efore he stepped into the kitchen and was smacked in the face by confirmation that the girl had not, in fact, been shipped back home yet.
“I’m so Ravenclaw. My mom was too, but Aunt Izzy is all Hufflepuff—”
It was a cheerfully domestic scene, his pretty blonde assistant and the striking young girl smiling together over the kitchen counter like something out of a holiday commercial. Until the girl noticed his presence and froze, something alert and intense falling over her face as her words choked off in the middle of a sentence.
“Hello, beautifuls.” He smiled, flashing the charm, but the girl just eyed him warily from the depths of the winter coat she still wore even though his house was heated to a perfect seventy degrees. Not the response he was used to in females of any age. He turned toward Andi, who watched him like a director who didn’t trust he’d memorized his lines. “Did we get all this sorted out?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
A frown passed through Andi’s eyes, but she smiled over it. “Jade and I agreed your refrigerator is a catastrophe and ordered pizza. Alan’s picking it up for us.”
His chest clamped suddenly around his lungs. No. Alan was supposed to be taking the girl home, not feeding her. Ty kept his smile in place through the skittering panic that tried to rise. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“You don’t have to eat it if you’re afraid of the carbs, but Jade and I needed something more substantial than strawberries and pickles.”
He burned thousands of calories a day thanks to his training regimen—had to feed the machine to keep it operating optimally—but that wasn’t the point. Andi wasn’t usually this obtuse, and the way she kept emphasizing the girl’s name was making him edgy. “I thought you would have worked things out by now.”