Owned By Fate(23)

Sighing as he paced through the living room he’d spent the month furnishing himself, Jonah decided he’d chosen well, considering he knew nothing about family dwellings or what they should contain. The two-bedroom apartment was large but not monstrous. Comfortable. Dust motes swirled in the mid-afternoon sunlight, filtering in through the high windows to illuminate hardwood floors. Sunlight. Something he’d only just realized his other apartment was sorely lacking.

Jonah stepped back into the smaller of the two bedrooms, wondering once again if he’d picked the right shade of pink at Home Depot that morning. For all he knew, Gabby hated all shades of pink and preferred gray and black. Like him. God, what he wouldn’t give for a woman’s opinion here. Caroline’s face materialized in his head, and he almost laughed. She’d probably be too horrified at the idea of him wanting visitation with his daughter to form an opinion on paint samples. Well, she’d have to get in line.

Jonah’s past self might have felt the same way once upon a time. His daughter had been the product of a one-night stand. He’d met Renee in a bar in Washington, DC, the night before he shipped out with the Navy. His mind had already been a million miles away from the monotony of his dead-end construction job. He’d been careless and made an uncharacteristic error in judgment. One he’d worried about immediately after, before the memory of it got swallowed by the promise of making newer ones. Changing his scenery for good. That night, nine years ago, had blurred in his memory the way most nights from his early youth had. Sleeping on his uncle’s couch from the age of three. Parents gone and never spoken about except for the occasional drunken rant from his uncle. Those years when he’d been driven, yet lacking in direction. Lost and determined at the same time.

He’d left that morning without a thought, Renee passed out in a jumble of sheets. And he hadn’t heard from her since, until she’d visited New York six months ago with her boyfriend and ran into Jonah when they both tried to hail the same cab. One minute later and he might never have known.

The news had knocked him on his ass. That same day, before she’d found out what he did for a living, Renee had emailed him a photograph of Gabby. There had been no mistaking her resemblance to him. She was his daughter. And she’d spent the first eight years of her life without any knowledge of her father.

To a man whose own parents had left their child to be raised by an indifferent uncle, Jonah had been beside himself. He’d contacted Renee the following day and asked if he could meet her, but she’d adamantly declined, having Googled his name and found out about Serve. After months of sending Renee money and trying to reassure her that he wasn’t a moral threat to their daughter, he’d broken down and hired a lawyer. It had been a last resort. For one, he sensed Renee didn’t have the money for legal expenses and that financial burden could negatively affect Gabby. But he couldn’t continue to send money when he didn’t even know if the money was benefitting her. And money didn’t make him a part of her life. When he’d been Gabby’s age, he would have turned down a million dollars just to have a father to take him fishing like the other kids at school.

Jonah’s phone vibrated in his pocket. When he saw his lawyer’s name pop up on the screen, he answered. “Winston.”

“Are you playing decorator again?”

“Funny.” Jonah tossed the paintbrush into a metal tray. “Fat lot of good it’s doing me.”

“One step at a time.” Winston hesitated a moment. “The apartment doesn’t guarantee visitation. I’m having a hell of a time just getting Renee to meet with you.”

Jonah’s brow furrowed. “I’m aware. Just keep trying.”

“Will do. Listen, I’m sending over a messenger tonight with the finalized deed and some information about visitation rights.”

He acknowledged the lawyer’s words absently, knowing Serve’s manager would see that he got whatever the messenger delivered. “Fine.”

After discussing a few more details about the purchase, Jonah hung up.

Not quite ready to return to the demands of his club just yet, he picked up the remote and pointed it at the forty-inch flat screen hanging over the brick fireplace. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched a screen for anything other than customers misbehaving at Serve, so when he saw Caroline’s smiling face looking back at him from the television, he had an odd sense of déjà vu. But she wasn’t sitting at the bar in his club; she was ringing the goddamn bell for the New York Stock Exchange, her father standing behind her looking proud.