1. Avery
I ran my palms over my blouse and black dress pants for the thousandth time.
When Scott Mackenzie called me to request this meeting, I suspected something was wrong with the paperwork. And the frown marring his broad brow confirmed it.
“Scott,” I greeted him, shaking his hand.
“Miss Perry.” His brisk tone did not bode well. “Follow me.” He turned on his heel, his bald head gleaming from the overhead lights.
Okay.
Not a good start.
The jovial man usually welcomed me with a wide grin and sparkling hazel eyes.
Well, damn .
I had combed through all the documents a hundred times, signed all the places he requested, and submitted every detail of my life. What more needed to be done to adopt a four-year-old with no other next of kin?
Scott continued past several glass office doors before stopping at the conference room where we first met. Also a negative sign, since all our previous meetings were held in his office.
Two men waited inside, one clad in an expensive designer suit and the other in a leather jacket wearing a cocky smirk. I studied them both as I entered and tried to put on a placative expression.
“Hello,” I said with an awkward glance at Scott.
He shut the door and pulled out a chair for me before taking one for himself.
“Miss Perry, this is Mister Mershano and his legal representation.”
“Garrett Wilkinson,” the suit added, his stature exuding confidence and superiority. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but clearly, it’s not.”
My pulse skipped a beat at the decidedly hostile tone. “I beg your pardon?” I focused on Scott. “What the hell is going on?”
“Oh, that’s cute.” Garrett’s striking blue eyes ran over me in disgust while he spoke. “Continue to play dumb, Miss Perry. See where it gets you.”
“Mister Wilkinson,” Scott growled. “Please refrain from badgering my client. She’s not aware of your purpose here, since I only learned of it this morning myself.”
“Purpose for what?” I demanded. “Why am I here?”
“My son.” The deep voice came from the man across from me—the one with the cocky smile who appeared to be merely amused now. He relaxed into his chair, legs sprawled in a distinctly masculine manner, and spread out his hands in a your move sort of gesture.
“Your son?” The words left my mouth before they registered. Then ice drizzled down my spine. “You can’t mean…?” I couldn’t finish. As much as I tried to say the name, it refused to leave my heart.
“Jamie Mershano.” Garrett passed over a document and cocked a brow. “You must be aware that birth fathers have full custody rights to their children, unless otherwise determined in a court of law. And I can guarantee you that no judge is going to side against my client.”
I gaped at the birth certificate lying before me. It matched the one Jean once gave me, save two major details.
This version included the father’s name.
And it referred to Jamie as Jamie Mershano, not Jamie Perry.
Everything Jean kept on Jamie left the paternity line blank. The one time I had asked her about it, she’d stated it was a one-night stand and claimed not to remember the father’s name, or even what he looked like.
But the official hospital seal and signatures proved that to be a lie.
As did the striking similarities between Jamie and the man before me.
Jesus. I should have noticed the likeness the moment I entered.
The male’s dark chocolate irises, thick brown hair, strong jawline, and chin dimple—Jamie possessed all those traits. The only Perry gene he exuded was our trademark Irish skin—not our ash-blonde-colored hair or greenish-blue eyes. He hardly looked like me or Jean, but he bore a strong resemblance to the tanner man across from me.
“I… I had no idea,” I admitted, looking between the two men and Scott. “I’ve never seen this man before in my life. Jean told me…” I swallowed, trying to finish, but I couldn’t think over the words rattling around in my brain.
If he’s the father… Jamie…
But he can’t.
I’ve… He’s mine.
I raised him as mine.
“He’s four years old,” I said, cutting off whatever the men in the room were saying. “ Four. Years. Old. Where the hell have you been?” I locked gazes with the father threatening my child. “Do you even know anything about him? His favorite story? Favorite words? His allergies? How many times he fell trying to learn how to walk?” A hysterical laugh bubbled out of me of its own accord. “Are you serious?”
“Miss Perry, I’m going to need you to calm down.” The suit-clad lawyer sounded so imperious and self-assured that I wanted to introduce my fist to his too-handsome face.
“Calm down,” I repeated. “Seven weeks of unending paperwork, resolving my sister’s death and trying to do right by Jamie. Then you waltz in here and say this man”—I stabbed a finger at the joker across from me—“has full custody of my nephew? He’s never even met him!”
“That’s not true.” The would-be father didn’t move from his lazy sprawl but cocked his head to the side. “I met Jamie briefly during the paternity test that Garrett arranged four years ago.”
Tears prickled my eyes as I laughed. “Oh, that’s fantastic. You didn’t even believe he was yours, but now you want to play dad. Yeah, okay.”
Jesus Christ.
No.
I refused.
Jamie was my responsibility, my only living blood relative. No way would I give him up to a man who didn’t even want him to begin with!
“Can I have a moment alone with my client?” Scott requested softly.
So much for hiring an attorney with a backbone. Not that I knew I needed one until right now.
“Of course.” Garrett closed his portfolio and pushed away from the table. His client sat for a moment longer, his dark eyes assessing me in a lazy manner that bespoke of uncanny confidence. Then he stood and followed his lawyer from the room.
I stared after them in shock.
No words.
Nothing.
“Do you have any idea who that is?” Scott asked, his voice holding an awe I did not understand or return.
“No! I already said I’ve never seen him before in my life. Surely there has to be a law against this. Something that doesn’t allow some deadbeat father to walk back into the life of his son and take him back? I’ve raised him, Scott. Jamie is my son. Perhaps not by birth, but I’ve been the one—”
“Avery.” His sharp tone silenced my rant, but the tears continued to gather in my eyes.
“He can’t…” God, I was losing it. In the middle of my lawyer’s damn conference room. “I need a minute.”
I moved to the windows and wrapped my arms around myself. Midtown Atlanta glimmered back at me in the midday sun, reminding me of the long drive back to Acworth I had ahead of me.
Damn it.
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered and pinched the bridge of my nose. “This really can’t be happening.”
Scott cleared his throat and joined me by the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Avery, I’m sorry, but there is truly nothing I can do. The system grants him full custody automatically. I mean, he is the child’s father. The birth certificate and paternity test prove it, and his name… No judge in the country would ever side against his family.”
I blinked, confused. “What? Why should his name matter?”
“Mershano?” he prompted. At my blank stare, he added, “Mershano Suites.”
“The hotel chain?” What the hell did that…? Ohhhh . “As in, he’s related to the family?”
“He is the family, Avery. Wyatt Mershano is the youngest son. His older brother manages the company—which explains all the documentation his lawyer showed up with today. It seems Jean was very much aware of his paternity to her son, despite the lack of documentation on her side. When doing our due diligence in confirming the birth records, we discovered a discrepancy. Then Mister Mershano reacted to our database inquiry accordingly.”
That explained the timing. I returned all the paperwork for Jamie’s adoption five days ago. Between the funeral arrangements, caring for Jamie, working full-time, and sorting through the lack of documentation left by Jean, it’d taken nearly two months to put the affairs in order. I acquired temporary guardianship right after my sister’s death, but adopting him had required a lot more due diligence. And I’d still missed a rather substantial detail.
“What about my version of the birth certificate? The one that shows no father?” Was it even legal to create such a document? One that hid the father’s name?
Scott shrugged. “Money is power, Avery. And it seems Wyatt Mershano struck a deal with your sister to help protect Jamie’s identity. But when my office filed through the appropriate channels, his attorney was notified. Hence…”
Their abrupt appearance , I thought, finishing his sentence.
“He didn’t even know Jean was dead.” Which showed how often he checked up on Jamie.
“No one knew to notify him,” Scott replied.
Because no one knew he existed. Least of all, me.
“Jamie has a father,” I mumbled. Obviously, he did, but I never in my wildest dreams expected him to show up and protest my legal right to adopt Jamie. “There’s nothing I can do?”
“I’m really sorry, Avery. Unless you can prove him to be an unfit father, it’s out of our hands.”
“Meaning, the fact that he was absent for the last four years of Jamie’s life doesn’t qualify as ‘unfit’?” I would have fallen over in laughter if I wasn’t trying so hard not to cry. “There has to be something…” I bit my lip to keep it from wobbling and closed my eyes. “He’s my son.” The words came from the depths of my heart. Birthrights be damned. I loved him unconditionally.
“You could request visitation rights,” Scott suggested. “It’s ultimately up to the father, but he might be willing to grant them. You’ll need to be very apologetic and understanding, though. And it might require some begging, considering who we are dealing with here.”
He kept talking, but I stopped listening.
All my energy went into trying to remain standing under the onslaught of emotions weighing on my shoulders.
How could everything go so wrong so quickly?
My biggest worry three months ago was guaranteeing that Jean would show up to Jamie’s fourth birthday party.
Now, losing Jamie indefinitely loomed over my head. And I’d done nothing wrong, aside from fall in love with a little boy who never actually belonged to me. But I made him mine in every sense of the word, put all my time and devotion into nurturing him, caring for him, and cherishing him.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Crying fixed nothing.
Screaming would scare everyone.
I needed a calm, collected approach, not an emotional one. Even if it felt as if my chest had been cracked open for the world to see.
Pull it together, Avery .
You can do this.
My quivering soul said otherwise. However, I had no choice but to face this head-on and see what damage control could be done.
I turned, resolved, and found Jamie’s father leaning against the wall just inside the room with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Curiosity mingled with some discreet emotion in his eyes as he studied me. I couldn’t quite read it, nor was I sure I wanted to.
“Mister Mershano,” Scott said, startled. “We didn’t—”
“I want to see him.” His abrupt words held a note of authority that sent a chill across my skin. “Where is my son?”
I steadied my breathing and straightened my spine. “Preschool.” Something he would know if he had anything to do with Jamie’s life prior to today.
“Where?”
“In Acworth.” Another thing he should already know. “Where he lives.”
“Lived,” he corrected me. “Take me to him. Now.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s my son. I want to see him. You’ll take me.” He pushed off the wall with an expectant look. “Our lawyers can chat afterward.”
Garrett walked in at that moment and tucked his phone into his pocket. “What did I say about staying in the hallway?”
Wickedness lurked in Wyatt’s expression as he faced his lawyer. “You should know by now that I never follow your advice, G.”
“Clearly.” Those piercing blue eyes traveled to me, then back to his client. “What did I miss?”
“Avery just offered to take me to my son. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Delight danced in his gaze as he grinned at me.
Pompous prick. My fists curled as several retorts lined up on my tongue.
“She did,” Scott said before I could voice a far more accurate response.
“Excellent.” Garrett grinned. “Then we’re in agreement already?”
“Not quite.” Wyatt’s intense stare captured and held mine. “I want to see my son first. Then we’ll continue our discussion.”
My heart skipped a beat. What did he mean by that? Was the decision not set in stone? He never wanted Jamie before; why would that change now?
Scott mentioned the possibility of visitation rights, stating they were at the discretion of the father. Did Wyatt want to discuss them?
Garrett gripped his client by the arm and yanked him into the hallway with a “We’ll just be a minute.” The glass door slammed behind them, silencing their conversation as the two men squared off against each other.
“That… was unexpected. But potentially a good sign, Avery. He might be willing to work with you.” Scott’s words barely registered.
All of my attention fell to Jamie’s father as he raised one dark brow at his lawyer. Wyatt seemed both amused and bored—a contradictory reaction. Perhaps his expression just defaulted to haughty arrogance.
His full lips moved lazily as he responded to Garrett, almost as if trained to only give smart-ass replies.
My sister sure knew how to pick them.
I rolled my eyes upward, chastising her in my head, when the door opened.
“Ready when you are, sweetheart.” Wyatt’s deep voice grated on my already tired nerves.
“Avery,” I corrected him in as polite a voice as I could manage. “Or Miss Perry, if that’s easier to say.”
The edges of his mouth twitched. “Okay, Miss Perry. Let’s go.”
“We’ll reconvene first thing in the morning, Scott.” Garrett pulled his phone out again and took off at a brisk pace down the hallway without a backward glance.
Scott shuffled on his feet. “Uh, yeah. I’ll clear my schedule tomorrow, then.”
It seemed I would be doing the same. Family always came before work, something my boss thankfully understood. Still, he wouldn’t be pleased by me rescheduling all my project calls.
Anything to keep Jamie .
Wyatt cocked an impatient brow. “Miss Perry.”
“Mister Mershano,” I returned. “Sorry, did I offer to drive you as well?” I couldn’t help the sarcastic note.
“Indeed, you did.” He sounded so sure of himself. So overconfident. And not at all like a dad.
My brain flickered to life as I recalled Scott’s words from minutes ago.
Unless you can prove him to be an unfit father…
Could I accomplish that? What would it take?
I’d have to ask Scott for clarification.
But first, I’d take Wyatt to his son and see how they interacted. Something told me Mister Mershano didn’t have a whole lot of experience with four-year-olds.
“All right. I’ll take you.” Not that I had a choice in the matter, but if I played along, I could observe them together and perhaps stumble onto something I could use against him.
Because I refused to go down without a fight.
Wyatt’s last name might intimidate Scott, but it didn’t scare me.
And if my coward of a lawyer wasn’t up for it, then I would find someone to help me win.
I vowed to protect Jamie with my life the moment I met him. No way would I let this overconfident prick break that promise on my behalf.