FIRST LOVE_A Single Dad Second Chance Romance

by Scarlet Wilder

  A beautiful young woman in jeans and a t-shirt came into the store. She looked a little shy as she moved from rack to rack. I watched the way her hands glided over the clothes. She had long fingers, with perfectly manicured nails, and even though she was dressed casually, her hair and makeup were so perfect that she looked like a million dollars.

  I went over to her. “I just have to tell you that I think your makeup is stunning,” I said. “Have you just come from a photo shoot?”

  Her face lit up as she beamed. “No,” she said, “It’s just that I’ve been invited to an interview tomorrow. It’s for a makeup artist for the Met Gala, and I’m so nervous I have no idea what to do with myself.”

  “That’s so exciting!” I said. “Congratulations!”

  “Well, I haven’t got the job yet,” she said. “I’ve been practicing on myself all morning but now I need to find myself something to wear for tomorrow.”

  “Well, I think you’ll do great,” I said. “If it were me, I’d hire you on the spot. Your face speaks for itself. Now, let’s try and find you something to wear.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Now, you could pay homage to the Comme des Garçons theme of 2017 with this origami dress, which I think would be perfect,” I said, bringing the girl over to the dress. “But, if you wanted to make it less obvious, and a little more formal, then this jacket is classic for an interview. Think Alexander McQueen meets Coco Chanel.”

  “I really like that jacket,” said the girl. I watched her as she inspected it, and offered that she try it on. She took it from the hanger and slipped her arms through the sleeves. It looked good on her, but the sleeves were a little too long. “Now, if you do want it, then we can get the sleeves adjusted by the end of the day. I do all the adjustments myself.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. “My mom basically gave me her credit card and told me to get something smart. I’ve always liked Lesley Banks, but I’ve never had the excuse to treat myself to anything until now.”

  “There’s always an excuse for a Lesley Banks outfit,” I grinned. I held out my hand. “I’m Elle.”

  “Holly,” the girl said, taking my hand and smiling. “God, I’m so nervous. I just don’t know what to do.”

  She was every sales assistant’s dream. Young and innocent, with Mommy’s credit card in hand and an important interview the next day, I could have had her wear any old crap and gush about it enough so that she’d buy it, but I’d never been one to take advantage of customers. Instead, I took the time for her to carefully choose just the right outfit.

  After she left the store, my morning flew by and at lunchtime, I was only able to grab a quick salad and a banana from the deli across the street before heading back to work. I went upstairs to work on a couple of adjustments and left the store in Megan’s capable hands. She was young, barely out of college, but was already doing very well. She had a good eye and her sweetness and innocence made her a hit as a saleswoman.

  It was good to get a little time alone upstairs, and I sat in the room next to Lesley’s office, listening to her barking orders over the telephone and tearing out pages from magazines as she did so. For as long as I’d known her, she would always flick through magazines whenever she was on the phone. If she saw a design she liked, she tore it out and stuffed it into a large, silver folder. At night, with a glass of wine in hand, she said, she’d pore over them again and they’d be the inspiration for her next great design.

  I often smiled to myself at the thought of all the customers coming into the store, many of them having been fans of hers for many years and none of them ever realizing that the designer herself was upstairs, swearing and shouting, sitting at a desk covered in all manner of chaos.

  I started on one of the jackets. I liked doing adjustments. Lesley always insisted that we could get someone else to do them, but I refused, for as long as I could spend a little time turning up a hem, or resizing a dress, I was still creating.

  I’d spent so many hours working in the store and helping Lesley manage the business that my own designing had taken a back seat. There were other things to focus on, other priorities in my life that demanded my attention. For now, working for the generous package Lesley offered me was the right decision.

  The only bad thing about sitting alone with nothing but the soft whirr of a sewing machine to keep you company is that, sometimes, unwelcome thoughts drift into your mind that you don’t really want to dwell upon. So, instead of entertaining them and going down the rabbit hole of thoughts about giving up my own dreams for reasons of simple necessity, I let them float by like a call unanswered, forcing myself to think about my plans for later that evening. Thankfully, I had the promise of Colin’s incredible meatloaf to look forward to and the thought of it being Sunday the next day, made me smile.

  It was the one lazy day, in my otherwise busy week, that I could sleep in a bit. Later, Colin and I would pick up breakfast from our favorite café; their crispy croissants, fresh fruit cups, and caramel iced latte were to die for. Back home, we’d watch Suits and drink too much wine, usually ending up falling asleep on the couch propped up against each other.

  I chuckled once more when I remembered the conversation of that morning, and how Colin had been tricking me all this time into making him dinner. I couldn’t be too mad at him, though. He’d been my best friend for fifteen years, and while millions of people all over the world made promises to their best friends while in their teens, so rarely do those promises ever actually come true. With us, though, they had.

  We were living together in an apartment in New York City, like we always dreamed. I was working in fashion, and Colin was slowly making a name for himself in the theater. Sure, I was the store manager of a popular boutique that didn’t stock a single one of my designs, and Colin was doing some very off-off-off-Broadway plays, but things were still going well for us.

  No need to fuss about the details too much, of course.

  14

  ________

  LIAM

  From the way Larry took the news, I was sure that he wanted to drive right over and punch me in the face. “You know this isn’t great for business, right?” he said angrily, as though I hadn’t considered it.

  “That was one of the first thoughts that crossed my mind, believe me,” I said. I cradled Lizzie in the crook of my left arm, holding the phone with my right. Joanna had been to the store and returned with several bags overflowing with blankets, bottles, diapers, formula, and God-only-knows what else such a tiny little human might have possibly needed.

  But, all that mattered was that I had a very content little girl snoozing away as I spoke to the lawyer. “But if she’s mine, Larry, then there’s absolutely no chance that I’m worrying about business.”

  “How do you know it’s your kid, though?” he asked.

  “That’s exactly why I’ve called you,” I said. “I need you to sort this for me.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day I’d have to do a DNA test for the Wilde Corporation,” Larry said. “I wonder what your father would say.”

  “My father would probably say that whatever the outcome, it’s none of my lawyer’s damn business,” I said. “All I want from you is for you to get me the results within twenty-four hours.”

  “Right,” he said. “Will do. I’ll be over soon.”

  I hung up, shaking my head. “Asshole,” I muttered, under my breath. I’d never understood why Dad had insisted on keeping the guy in the business. I guess it made sense in a lot of ways; when you expose someone to all the company secrets and most of your own for so long, you tend to want to keep them around no matter how much they annoy you. Better the devil you know, right? But at fifty-five, Larry was a long way from retiring, and I was stuck with him for the foreseeable future.

  One thing I was sure of, though, was that he’d sort out whatever I needed for Lizzie’s paternity test. He was as good as his word, too. Within an hour, he was at the door, a white box in his hands.
<
br />   “Got everything you need?” I asked.

  He waved the box in the air as we walked into the study. “Seems like DNA testing’s all the rage these days,” he said. “Everybody wants to know where they come from, who their third cousin twice-removed was or what exotic country they originated from. I was able to pick this up at the drugstore. All we need are swabs of the both of you.”

  “And then what happens?”

  “Well, usually you’d send it to a company that’d take about a month to send back the results,” Larry said, as he opened the packet. “But you’ll have the results within twenty-four hours. Someone owes me so I called in the favor.”

  That was another thing about Larry, another good reason to keep him around. When he said he’d get something done, then he got it done. He promised the results would be back within twenty-four hours, but that meant that I’d have them back within eighteen.

  He read the instructions and carefully removed a sterile swab from one of the packets. I opened my mouth as though I was a patient sitting in a dentist’s chair, and he swiped the inside of my cheek, then carefully deposited the swab inside the correct envelope, which was then immediately sealed.

  “Now, the baby,” he said.

  She was upstairs with Joanna, whom I called and asked to bring her down. Larry looked at Lizzie, and back at me, then repeated the action. He shrugged. “Can’t say I see it,” he said. He opened the second sample stick, but I took it from him.

  “I’ll do it,” I said. I know he would never have harmed her, but something about letting the lawyer’s hands on this tiny little thing, when she could be my newborn daughter, was making me uneasy. Joanna held Lizzie as I carefully opened her mouth.

  “Sorry about this, little one,” I said in a low voice, as her eyes opened when I gently pulled her chin down with my thumb. She didn’t cry, but she didn’t seem to like it when I rubbed the sample stick against her cheek, pushing at it with her tongue. But within just a few seconds, it was done, and the stick was placed inside the second labeled envelope and sealed. Larry took them and put them in the briefcase he always carried with him.

  “Leave these with me,” he said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  I didn’t need to remind him of the need for the utmost discretion. That was understood and went without saying. I knew that none of this would be leaked outside the walls of this house, at least not until we had the results, and even after then.

  Joanna took Lizzie back upstairs for her nap, where the housekeeper had arranged a secure sleeping area made out of cushions on my bed. It wasn’t going to be a long-term solution, though.

  Even if the results came back that the whole thing had been a huge misunderstanding, that Mel had slept with another guy around the same time we’d had our night together, the matter at hand wasn’t going to go away for another day. For now, we needed to get the things we needed to look after a three-day-old baby. If it turned out that she was only staying for one night after all; well, we’d worry about that then.

  It was Sunday, and the stores weren’t open too late, but I still had time to go and do a little shopping. I took Joanna with me. As a mother, she’d know exactly what the baby needed, and I certainly didn’t have a clue.

  “We need to head out of town,” I said. “Just to be sure we have as little public interference as possible. I know there’s a retail park out in Jersey.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Joanna replied. “But what do we do with Lizzie until then?”

  So, we left the tiny little girl on the bed, enjoying her nap, as Eddie sat in a chair beside her. I was sure that he never once took his eyes off her the whole time, and I had no concerns as I left the house with my housekeeper. If anyone would keep either me or any member of my family, whether presumed or confirmed, safe, it was Edward Hinckley.

  We took the Cadillac so I could get as much into the back of it as possible. I never usually left the house on a Sunday; after a busy week and Saturday nights that mainly involved parties and functions, Sunday was the day I took to clear my head, refresh my body and take the time out I needed to face another week.

  But today was not a usual day, in any sense of the word. As I drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the elbow of my other arm leaning out of the open window. I barely remember driving to the store; my head was filled with so many possible scenarios.

  What if she really was mine? What if, at twenty-eight, I’d just become a father? I found myself thinking about hiring a nanny and converting one of the rooms into a real nursery. I thought about her first day at school, in a blue summer dress. I thought about whether I’d send her for a private education, and which school would be best. I thought about Christmases and birthdays.

  What would I tell my mom? And Catherine? Catherine was over in London, and Mom had retired out to Maine, to be nearer my grandmother, but it’s not like I could keep the news from her. I imagined her at that very moment, sitting on the front porch, arranging flowers with my grandmother, with no idea that she’d just become a grandmother herself, in the blink of an eye.

  Then, my mind having been so consumed by how much my life would change if it turned out that Lizzie was indeed my daughter, I began to think about how I’d take the news that she wasn’t mine. And I realized that the thought of someone coming to tell me that they were sorry, but they’d been wrong after all, or that it had been a cruel joke, would hurt me deeply. She’d been in the house for barely a few hours, but already, the thought of losing her was almost too much to bear.

  “Are you all right?” Joanna asked, and placed a gentle hand on my arm. I looked at her and let out a deep sigh.

  “I think you might need to pinch that arm of mine because I’m pretty sure I must be dreaming.”

  She smiled. “Just watching you today with her, rocking her to sleep and feeding her, it made me so happy,” she said. “And whatever the results of the test, I know that you’re going to make a wonderful father. Even if it’s not Lizzie’s father.”

  “Between you and me, Joanna,” I confessed, “I want to be her father.”

  “I know,” she said softly.

  At the store, her experience proved to be invaluable. She helped me pick out the right kind of crib, baby bath, and changing station. We bought clothes, more diapers, pacifiers, and bottles. We bought a sterilizer, all manner of lotions, creams for diaper rash, and gentle shampoo. We also got two separate car seats to ensure that I wouldn’t have to change seats every time I changed cars. I spent over five thousand dollars in the store by the time we’d finished, and the clerk had to help load the car.

  But finally, it was all in, and we drove home once more. This time, I was excited, and I went straight upstairs to find Eddie, still sitting in the chair, right where I’d left him. Lizzie was on her back on the bed, her tiny fingers curled up in fists, making it look as though she was punching the air above in victory.

  “How’s she doing?” I asked.

  “She’s perfect, Sir,” Eddie replied. “She woke for a little while and I picked her up and rocked her until she went right back to sleep. She has just woken up again.”

  “Great,” I said. “Please, can you help me unload the car?”

  “Of course,” he replied, and within an hour the car was empty, the crib was assembled, and Lizzie was sleeping once more, only this time in her own little bed. It was placed beside mine, although Joanna offered to take her for the night.

  “No,” I said. “If she’s mine, then I really want to do this properly. I need your help, of course, but I need to step up to the responsibility, even if that means night feeds.”

  Famous last words. By three in the morning, Lizzie had been awake for two hours and was now quite happily screaming at such a high pitch, I thought my ears were going to rupture. It didn’t even sound like she was pausing long enough to take a breath. While I rocked her over my shoulder, I went down to the kitchen and prepared a bottle of formula just as Joanna had shown me. I squirted some of the formula onto my a
rm and it was still too hot, so I held the bottle under running water until it cooled enough for Lizzie to drink.

  I sat at the kitchen table and fed her, watching the way her tiny mouth eagerly drew the milk from the bottle. She made the cutest little snuffling noises, tiny squeaks that I could swear sounded as though she was enjoying it. Once the bottle was empty, I sat her on my knee while gently rubbing her back until she let out a little belch.

  Taking her back upstairs, I laid her back in the crib, but she wasn’t content. So, I picked her up again and she seemed to be much happier, laying against my bare chest. I pressed my nose to her little head, which was covered in fluffy dark hair.

  “What are we going to do with you, baby girl?” I murmured against her skin, which had that unmistakable baby smell. I recognized the scent even though I’d never even held a baby before, which doesn’t really make any sense but is completely true.

  Once she dozed off once more, it was my cue to go back to sleep, so I caught a couple more hours before repeating the process again. By seven, I was back in the kitchen, and Lizzie was wide-awake in my arms, chugging down on another bottle of milk.

  That’s where Joanna found me. She smiled and took Lizzie from me so I could make some coffee and stretch my arms.

  My phone buzzed. It was Larry. “You’re up early,” I said, as I answered.

  “Do you want the results?” he asked.

  “Are you serious?” I cried. “You’ve got them back already?”

  “Yep.”

  “So? Go on!”

  Joanna was looking at me expectantly, her eyes wide.

  “Congratulations, Daddy,” Larry said. “You’ve got a daughter.”

  And for some reason I found myself crying. They were the sweetest words I’d ever heard in my life.