Chapter 1 - Pretend You’re Our Father
The first little girl appeared beneath my table so quietly that I thought the movement was a trick of the afternoon light.
Then came another.
Then another.
Then a fourth.
My porcelain cup stopped halfway to my mouth.
Four girls were crouched beneath the marble café table, pressed shoulder to shoulder around my legs. They looked between four and seven, all brown-haired, dressed in pastel dresses beneath navy coats, colorful bows slightly crooked as though they had dressed in a hurry.
The smallest wrapped both arms around my leg.
“Please.”
My name is Alexander Hayes.
At thirty-nine, I owned restaurants, construction companies, nightclubs, and enough commercial property across Chicago to make respectable businessmen return my calls.
The other businesses were never printed beside my name.
People who knew that world didn't interrupt my coffee.
Children apparently had different rules.
“Are you lost?”
Four heads shook.
The oldest girl pointed toward the café entrance.
“Our mommy's there.”
I followed her finger.
An elegant auburn-haired woman stood beside the windows in a cream business suit. She was speaking to a man in a dark tailored jacket.
Speaking was generous.
He was leaning over her.
She was retreating.
His finger repeatedly struck the air between them.
“What are your names?”
“Lucy.”
“Mia.”
“Chloe.”
The smallest hesitated.
“Ellie.”
“Why aren't you with your mother?”
Lucy answered.
“Mr. Mercer is there.”
“Who's Mercer?”
All four pointed.
The man.
“What did he do?”
“He says Mommy has to marry him.”
“He says families need fathers.”
“He says Mommy makes bad decisions.”
Then Ellie looked up at me.
“He said he'll fix us.”
Something inside me cooled.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Threaten you?”
Silence.
Children often answered questions adults taught them to avoid with silence.
Then Ellie whispered:
“Pretend you're our daddy.”
I stared at her.
“Why me?”
She shrugged.
“You look mean.”
Mia immediately corrected her.
“Safe mean.”
Despite myself, I nearly smiled.
Before I could answer, Mercer turned.
He noticed the girls were gone.
Then saw four little heads beneath my table.
His face tightened.
“Girls!”
They grabbed me harder.
Mercer stormed across the café.
“Get away from that stranger.”
I stood.
All six-foot-three of me.
Mercer stopped approximately two feet away.
“Those children belong with their mother.”
“They don't seem interested.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Who the hell are you?”
Behind him, two men at separate tables quietly stood.
My guards.
Mercer didn't notice.
He pointed at my chest.
“Stay out of family business.”
I looked at his finger.
Then at him.
“Remove that.”
“What?”
“Your hand.”
Something in my voice finally reached him.
He lowered it.
Claire hurried over.
“Lucy! Mia! Chloe! Ellie!”
The girls remained behind me.
Her relief lasted until she saw my face.
Then every trace of color disappeared.
“Alexander Hayes.”
Mercer glanced between us.
“You know him?”
Claire didn't answer.
Ellie slipped her tiny hand into mine.
Then she said something that destroyed whatever ordinary explanation remained.
“Daddy…”
Mercer's mouth curled.
But Ellie wasn't looking at him.
She was looking at me.
“Mr. Mercer has pictures of us sleeping.”
Claire went completely white.
Mercer turned toward the exit.
One of my guards stepped in front of the door.
The second locked it.
I looked at Mercer.
May you like
For the first time, he understood that the stranger he'd been insulting wasn't trapped in the café with him.
He was trapped in the café with me.
