After a seven-hour flight, I land at LAX airport. With long strides and a head full of questions, I make my way over to the rental car dealer. Jessica Davis had a daughter and listed me as the father. Why would she do that? It's ridiculous. I let out a huff while walking into the rental store. A half hour later, I park and get out of my black Land Rover Discovery. Let's sort this mess out, so I can go back to having a beer while watching the sunset on my peaceful balcony. I enter a grey office building and stop at the first occupied desk. The woman sitting behind it glances up. Her eyes travel over my body as she rises from her seat. The moment she ends the call, I launch my question. "I'm looking for Ms. Emily Miller. Where can I find her?"

After another head-to-toe inspection. "I'll get her. Please wait there," she says, pointing to the chairs by the wall.

I nod, and instead of getting a numb ass from sitting, I stand against the wall while listening to the sound of people talking and ringing phones. My attention shifts to the hall as a small woman with light brown hair comes out of one of the rooms and heads my way.

"Mr. Walker?" she asks as she stops in front of me. I shake her outstretched hand.

"Hello, Ms. Miller."

She smiles and returns the steady handshake. "Why don't you follow me, and we'll talk in my office?" She points in the way she came from, and I nod. After entering her compact office and taking a seat, she closes the door and sits on the other side of her desk.

"I'm glad you came, Mr. Walker," she starts.

"Call me, Cole."

She nods. "I'm Emily. Sorry to meet you under these circumstances."

"Where is the girl?"

Emily leans back in her chair and lifts her chin an inch higher. "Before I answer that, I'd need to see your ID or driver's license to make sure you're Cole Walker."

I raise my brow at her but pull out my wallet and show her my license. She leans forward and drums her fingertips on the wood as she glances at it. Then she sits back and speaks.

"She's staying at my house."

My eyes narrow. "Is that allowed?"

She crosses her arms. "That sweet girl needed a safe place to stay after finding herself alone in the world."

"Doesn't she have grandparents?"

"No. They passed away, and she doesn't have aunts or uncles either. Samantha mentioned two days ago that her mother put her father's name on the birth certificate. Since then, I've been working day and night to find you."

She opens a drawer and pulls out a paper and glides it over the desk towards me. I lean in to inspect the document. A legal birth record of Samantha Davis. Mother, Jessica Davis, and her signature. Father states Cole Walker, but no signature. My eyes lift and meet Emily's.

"How do I know she's mine? Yes, my name is on the document, but she could have put it there for whatever reason."

Emily bites her lip. "I understand, and I would advise you to do a paternity test," she adds. "But before you do, see her."

I sit straight and cross my arms in front of me. "And why would I do that?"

"Humor me, Cole," she says, making direct eye contact.

I stand and point at the door. "Take me to her, Emily."

Emily gets up and grabs her purse, and when we walk out of the building, we both put on our sunglasses as the L.A. sun shines its hot, bright rays on us as we step out of the building's shadow.

"Where have you parked your car?"

I point, and she nods. "You can ride with me," I offer.

She hesitates for a moment.

"I'm not a serial killer, nor do I plan on hurting you. I'm being a gentleman and offering you a ride."

She chuckles at my words. "Fine, let's go."

Emily gives me her address, and during the car ride, questions arise, and I ask, "What was Jessica's profession?"

Emily shifts in her seat and places her hands on her lap and fiddles with her fingers. "She was a server."

I raise a brow. "Still a waitress? Jessica told me she wanted to go to law school."

From my peripheral view, I notice Emily biting her lip before she answers. "She waited tables in a restaurant by day, and at night, she worked as a waitress in a strip club."

I cough hard. "What!" I let out, dumbfounded. That is not the Jessica I remember.

Emily and I go silent, and a whirlwind of thoughts spirals in my head. Jessica's life goal was to go to law school. No, it wasn't a goal, it was a dream. She was enthusiastic about it, about how she wanted to change the world and bring justice to the underprivileged. She wanted to flip things and turn wrong into right, shed light on the darkness. That was what I loved about her the most. Where did that woman go? What—Something sparks in my mind, but when I'm about to ask Emily, we arrive at our destination.

Emily steps out, and as we step over the threshold, my head is buzzing with questions. "Samantha?" she calls out.

I close the door and wait while Emily walks straight into her living room and stops. "She's outside."

My eyes go to the broad window and scan the garden. A girl with a mint green shirt is sitting cross-legged with her back towards us in the grass. She is enjoying the sun, wearing headphones, and bobbing her head to the beat.

Emily turns. "Let me talk to her first," she says while walking to the back door.

"Go ahead. I'll wait here."

"Thank you." She crosses the lawn and makes herself noticeable by standing in front of the girl. I step closer to the window, letting my eyes drift over her dark blonde hair up in a ponytail. Her head goes up, and when she removes her headphones, her back stiffens at something Emily says. Emily points my way, and the girl rises. When the young woman turns, I'm nailed to the floor as I take in her facial features.

Sweet Jesus.

Emily places her hand on Samantha's back as they walk my way. My head is spinning with a myriad of questions, but when she stands before me, silence takes over.

Emily starts the conversation. "Why don't we sit?"

Samantha walks to the couch. Her eyes are on the ground. Emily takes the seat next to Samantha while I sit in the chair across from them. I cross my feet and wait. Everyone is silent, and after a while, Emily opens her mouth.

"Samantha, this is—"

"You're my father?" Her chin lifts, and I answer.

"Yeah, the chances of that being true have grown."

"You thought my mother was a liar!" she states with a thick voice.

Perplexed by her sharp reaction, Emily responds. "Samantha. What Mr. Walker tried to say is—"

"He believed my mother was a liar." She stands up, walks back to the garden, and puts her headphones back in place.

"I'll talk to her," Emily says as she rises. Her voice awakens me out of my frozen mind state.

I rise from my seat and walk towards the backdoor. "Can I please?"

Emily stops, inspects me for a moment, and steps backward. I walk and stop before Samantha, as Emily did the first time. No response. I grind my teeth. Great, she's ignoring me. What do I do now?

"Samantha?" I say in a calm voice. Again, no reaction. Why does she act this way? The entire scene gets on my nerves, and on an impulse, I pull her headphones off.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing. But giving me the cold shoulder won't make it better."

She keeps her gaze on her hands that are stroking through the grass. "I'm sorry about what happened to your mom. And I can imagine that you've got millions of questions running through your head, as I have."

"What are you thinking?" she asks. Surprised but thankful for a reaction, I answer. "I wonder how I have a daughter that I never knew existed."

"You think I'm your daughter? Why?"

"Because you're blessed or cursed with what I call the Walker Genes. I'll tell you the two most prominent ones. One, height. I bet you're taller than most of your peers."

She stops fidgeting with the greenery and nods.

"Two. Eye color. The Walkers' eyes have a distinctive blue color. And yours are clear as the blue sky on a bright summer's day."

"Wow, no one has described them like that..." she murmurs.

Samantha gets up and walks back into the house. I run my hands through my hair. Is walking away from me a good or bad sign? I stroll back inside and sit back in the chair.

"What happens now?" she asks Emily.

"You must take a paternity test to establish he's indeed your biological father. I contacted the DNA lab nearby. With them, it takes only one or two days to get the result. So we can go there now. If it shows that Cole is your father, you can stay with him. If he isn't your father, you'll go into the system, and then I'll try to find you a foster family."

"Fine. Let's do the stupid test. I don't have another choice, do I?" Samantha turns to Emily. "Why can't I take care of myself? I'm fifteen. I'm not a baby." She crosses her arms and gives us both an angry stare. "I don't want to live with strangers. If that happens, I'll run away and live on the street."

Her words stir up a whirlwind inside of me. What am I going to do if it turns out she's mine? I'm not ready to be a dad. I don't know shit about parenting. And she's a teenage girl. What do they like? The thoughts keep coming, hitting me one after another. She doesn't seem happy about me being her father. I take a deep breath in and ask myself how I'd feel if I was in her shoes... I glance her way and when her eyes meet mine, for a second, the loneliness and disheartening emotions I read in them nibbles at my heartstrings. I experienced it all after my father's death. No child should feel this way, and the idea of her living in the streets or going into the system is making me nauseous.

As a fresh wave of determination comes in, I react.

"I'm not doubting you're my daughter. And I'd like you to come with me to Boston. My place is sizable enough. And you can go to school there."

Emily takes her hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. We leave the house and drive to the DNA lab. Time passes in a blur, and twenty-four hours later, I'm back standing in Emily's living room after she called me saying the results were in.

She holds out the envelope. I take it, and after opening it, I pull out the paper.

A whirlwind of unknown feelings rushes through me as I stare at the graph with numbers. On top, I see Samantha's name and behind my name stands the title alleged father.

My eyes travel to the bottom of the page, and my hands show a slight tremor when I read. The alleged father cannot be excluded as the biological father of the tested child. Based on analysis of STR locus listed above, the probability of paternity is 99.99999999%.

I give the paper to Samantha, who's sitting next to Emily on the couch. Her eyes run over the document, and both eyes widen when they lodge on the results. Moments of silence pass before Samantha glances up at me.

"When will we leave?"

"Tonight. I can book an extra seat for the flight."

She stands up and shrugs. "Fine." And like yesterday, she walks outside. I take a seat on the stool, let my back fall against the seat, and run my hand through my hair. "God, this will be fun."

Emily lets out a snicker. "I will be honest with you, Cole. Samantha is acting this indifferent because she's afraid of getting hurt. This is her way of coping with her emotions." Her eyes connect to mine. "Are you sure you want to take her with you? It's an enormous responsibility and—"

"Emily. Let me tell you this. I'm a man of my words and take my responsibilities seriously. Even if I just found out about this, she's my daughter, and I'll never turn my back on my kid."

She nods, "Good. I'll arrange the paperwork you need to fill in before you leave." She stands up from her seat. "But one piece of advice for you, Cole," she says with a faint smile. "Get help when you're home. Having a teenager in your house can be quite the challenge."

"Oh, I'll manage, don't worry. How hard can it be?"

Hello, I hoped you liked this four chapter introduction of the story of Cole and Alisha. Are you interested in what will happen next, and what to read the entire book, grab a copy of this second irresistible read at one of the retailers. This book is available in ebook and paperback.

Go to my website www.marlynlove.com to find a direct link.