Isee Angelo’s name and answer distractedly. “Yeah? I’m kinda busy right now.”
“Uh, Vinny, there’s someone here for you.”
His tone pulls my attention away from the computer screen. “What do you mean here for me? Are you working the front door?”
Angelo sighs. “The guys downstairs called me. There’s a woman in the lobby throwing a fit. Saying she needs to talk to you.”
My brows furrow. “A woman?”
“Yeah, man. Fuck. I think it’s that chick from Florida. You know, that blonde chick you were hooking up with at the club.”
It takes me a moment to figure out who he’s talking about. “Wait, are you talking about Renee? Why would she be here? And how the fuck does she know where to find me?”
“Yeah, Renee, that’s the name she gave the guys at the door.”
He’s being cagey and I don’t have time for this shit. “Angelo, spit it out.”
“Shit, Vin. She has a baby with her.”
His words hit me one at a time. Like fists, each blow taking the air straight out of my lungs.
“A baby?” I whisper.
“Yeah.” Angelo’s voice sounds as pained as I feel. “She’s saying it’s yours.”
I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. Fighting against the urge to be sick.
“Send her up. And call Uncle Enzo. She might be crazy, but either way I’ll need to get a… a paternity test.” I choke out the words. “He’ll know who to call.”
“Will do, brother.”
I swallow down my rising fear. “And get the fuck up here. I shouldn’t be alone in a room with her.”
–
I have a daughter.
The test came back. She’s mine. Annie is mine. Having money doesn’t solve everything, but it can get fast results.
I pace my kitchen. Itching to open the bottle of bourbon that’s sitting on my counter, but knowing that’s the last thing I need. That me getting drunk right now is the last thing my daughter needs. My daughter.
I wouldn’t have recognized Renee if I’d seen her on the streets. In fact, she looked like she’d been living on the streets. She had always been small, but the past year had not been good to her. Even after having a baby, her previous slender build is now painfully thin. Her blonde hair – dull and stringy. Her skin is no longer tan, but pale and marked.
She was a user. What sort of drugs, I wasn’t sure. I always knew she was on something back in Florida. But it wasn’t my business. Wasn’t my problem. But now it is. Because she’s been raising my fucking daughter.
My. Daughter. Each time I roll the word around in my mind, it stings a little bit less. It gets just a little less scary. I can do this. I will do this. Annie’s mine now.
