Rowan’s Lost Backpack (Found by Daddy #19)

Chapter One

Summit

Rarely did I have the opportunity to pass Le Petit Shoe bakery.

The owner and chief pastry chef was a local boy who had trained in Paris but believed that humor had a place in everything.

The baker was also a little whose daddy worked in my office.

Not that most people who came and went from the top floor we occupied or the bakery had any idea.

Some things were best shared with those who understood.

On this day, I had been attending a meeting across town that should have ended around eleven and instead ran late into the afternoon.

The coffee service had offered muffins, but those soon ran out and when his PA asked if we wanted to order lunch, opposing counsel stated we’d be done soon and declined.

Walking in, we had been given to understand that an agreement between the opposing parties had been reached, but no sooner did we take our places at the table than we learned differently.

I probably should have excused myself and left right at that moment, but as long as there was hope, I felt compelled to provide my client with the best services possible.

“I can’t apologize enough, Summit,” the opposing attorney said in what many might consider a comment disloyal to his clients when we were alone. “As of last night, we were prepared to make a deal, but after some discussion, a different conclusion was reached.

Translation: He’d convinced the client that the deal was the best all around—which it was—and then someone had gotten to them and changed their mind. Gotten them to request a ridiculous settlement, and now, we’d all be going to court.

Not a problem for us, since we went to court every day of the week, but we’d agreed to a figure that was less advantageous to save time. I had no doubt we would walk out of the courtroom with a much larger judgment against the man whose unhappy expression showed he knew that too.

But all that hard work without pausing for a sandwich had my stomach growling and my blood sugar in my toes. I had not been pleased to skip lunch, but with everything else we were arguing about, my hunger pangs were not important at the time.

“It will be up to the courts,” I said, shaking his hand. “Have a good rest of your day.” Leaving him by himself in the conference room, I headed for the elevators and a sweeter experience on the way back to the office. A cab whisked me away across town and dropped me in front of Le Petit Shoe.

Many bakeries were at their best early in the morning, with late afternoon picking slim if they were even open at all, but Aias was a rebel in many ways.

Unlike the competition who often baked through the night and went home to bed as the city came to life, leaving only staff to handle sales, he rose with the sun—calling that way too early anyway—and began to work.

Fresh items appeared in the glass cases throughout the day, and I could be confident of getting something delicious on my way back to the office.

In fact, when I walked in and took a breath of fragrant pastries, I decided to bring enough for my team at the law firm.

“Summit!” he called, emerging from the back when I reached the counter. “It’s been a good while since I’ve seen you. What brings you here at this time?”

“I missed lunch while across town and thought I’d stop in and get something for me and the team.”

There were at least a dozen other customers in line, but Aias only spoke to people he knew well. Not many knew how shy the talented baker and business owner truly was. “I have some pain au chocolat just out of the oven. You love that.”

“I do!”

I was about to ask the counter girl to fill a box for me, when Aias said, “But you had no lunch. You’ll want something savory before you have a lot of sugar. We’ve had a busy day.” He scanned the cases. “Do we have any of the pinwheels, Clara? The ham and onion ones? Or maybe you’d like quiche?”

My stomach chose that moment to rumble, and the baker sprang into action. He directed his worker to give me the pain au chocolats, some almond horns filled with pastry cream, a full quiche, and a dozen pinwheels. “There. Your people will be happy to see you coming.”

“More than happy. They have to stay late for an international teleconference, and now, they won’t need dinner at all.

” I set down my computer bag long enough to accept the three handled bags from Clara then picked it up again.

I told her to send the bill to the office.

If I’d just been grabbing a pastry for me, I’d have paid on the spot, but this was meeting food and far better than the dry muffins the opposing counsel’s office had served.

Aias walked me out the door, looking as fresh as if he’d just arrived instead of baking in a blur of motion all day as I knew he had. He gave me a quick hug, murmuring, “Nice to see you, Daddy Summit. It’s refreshing to have a visit from someone who knows me.”

I patted his back as best I could with my arms filled. “I feel the same. Have you been to the club lately?”

“Yes. But I haven’t seen you.” No accusation lay in his tone. I wasn’t his daddy, or anyone in particular’s.

“No, it’s been very busy at the office. I’ll get there soon, I promise. If I can even move after consuming all of this in the car.”

He chuckled. “As if you would. Enjoy!” He disappeared back inside, and I caught another cab back to work. Hours more lay ahead of me, but at least I had tasty food to still my hunger, since I’d be there well after the dinner hour.

When I made partner, some people said to me that at least now I wouldn’t have to put in all those long days “proving myself” as an associate.

But those who worked in firms like the one I did, knew better.

As a proven litigator and earner, my value had increased and so had the pressure for me to produce billable time.

Sometimes I wondered if it was worth it, but when I had handed my assistant the baked goods to set out for us and my bag to leave in my office and the conference began, I lost my doubts.

My work was fulfilling, and without a real personal life, i.e.

a little of my own, what else was I doing with all those hours?

For now, it worked. If I ever got lucky enough to meet the right little, I’d have to reassess.

Time zones could mean our days were long or even upside down, and many of those we had to conference with were in Europe, Asia, even Africa, but I did my best to make sure the team didn’t all get stuck every night.

Most of them had spouses or significant others.

Children. Dogs. And if a senior partner complained that I’d sent someone or other home, I pointed out that they performed better if they weren’t completely exhausted. Made us more money.

After everyone else left, I went into my office to gather my things and go home. Things would be jumping at Chained about now, but I had another meeting at seven in the morning. If I got to bed any later, I wouldn’t be at my best.

So, I reached for my bag in the roomy bottom drawer of my desk only to push back so fast, I nearly tumbled my chair over.

What bag was this? I went to buzz my assistant before realizing she was already gone for the day.

And a quick search of my office uncovered no sign of my actual bag.

The one holding my computer, some files…

Fortunately, I had an app for that.

Pulling out my phone, I accessed the app, which found my computer in just a few seconds. The address looked familiar with good reason.

My computer was currently located at Chained.

I hadn’t been in weeks and had used my computer just this afternoon across town. How did it get to Chained?

Looked like I’d be stopping by tonight after all.