Daddy?”

I look up from the piles of papers on the desk at my daughter, cozy in the nest she’s built herself in the corner of my office. The kid is self-reliant, I’ll give her that. She keeps herself busy, knows how to pass the time without being a drain on my limited mental bandwidth.

“Mm hmm?”

“Do you work late like this all the time?” She stifles a yawn.

I didn’t realize it was even as late as it is. A glance at the clock tells me it’s nearly ten-thirty. “I’m sorry, kiddo. No, I don’t do this all the time.” Lies and more lies. “It’s a really busy time right now, like we talked about when you first came to live with me.”

She nods solemnly, curls bouncing. “Yeah. You have to show your prototop.”

It’s an effort to keep a straight face. “Close enough. Prototype.”

“Right.” She looks down, mouthing the word as though to commit it to memory for the next time she wants to use it.

Those little quirks in her personality are what endear her to me the most. I love her simply for the fact that she’s alive, of course, but there’s more to it. As much of a pain in the ass as it’s been to work things out up to this point, Regina did me an incalculably massive favor. I’d already missed too much of my daughter’s life.

I push back from the desk, stretching my arms over my head. I recognize my workaholic tendencies. To this point, I’ve had the luxury of devoting my entire life to building the business. After losing custody of her it was a wonderful outlet for me to pour everything I had into the business, instead of sinking into a profound depression.

I haven’t really had the time to sit down and think of what life would look like with Maddie in the picture. Obviously, I can’t raise her in this office. It’s all right for a few days, maybe a week—and even then, it’s not very all right. It’s just an emergency measure. She’ll need stability, structure, the right to a normal childhood. The only blessing in Regina’s timing is that she waited until summer to do this. If I had to negotiate a new school, books and supplies, homework and projects from the first day, I would’ve lost my mind.

There is a ringing tone sounding from the princess tent.

Maddie’s eyes grow round as she grabs her pink phone. “Oh, oh, it’s Mommy,” she announces and scrambles back deep into the tent. “Hello, Mommy,” she greets.

“Hello darling,” Regina says cheerfully. “What’s the time there now?”

“Uh… it’s nearly bedtime.”

“Right. Are you having a good time with your father?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Regina sounds surprised.

“Yes,” Maddie says again.

“You mean your father is spending time with you?”

“Daddy is with me all the time.”

“Really? Don’t you have a nanny?”

“No.”

“I see. Why it is so dark there?”

“I’m in my tent.”

“Are you in your bedroom?”

I close my eyes. Fuck, here comes trouble.

“Um…Yes, yes, I am,” Maddie lies.

I open my eyes in shock.

“Are you having a good time Mommy?”

Her mother starts to regale her with a story of what she is getting up to. Apparently, they are in France and just finished watching a polo match. She starts telling her how she met Prince Harry and I tune out and think of my daughter. No matter what, tomorrow, we have to get the paints for her room, because next week I am going to start looking for a nanny for her. Tonight is the last night she is spending on the floor of my office.

“Good night, Mommy.”

“Good night, darling. I’ll call you again in a few days.”

I stand up and walk over to the tent entrance.

Maddie pops her head out of the entrance again.

“Maddie, why did you lie to your mother about being in your own room?”

She shrugs and looks down.

“You don’t have to lie, you know. You can tell the truth.”

“But Daddy you don’t understand. Mommy will be mad with you if I tell her.”

“So let her be. I’ll deal with her. I don’t want you telling lies to protect me, okay?”

She frowns.

“Did you hear what I said, Maddie?”

She looks at me anxiously. “Daddy, what if Mommy becomes so mad with you she takes me back to live with her and Juan?”

The world is such a different place for a child. It becomes a helpless pawn too easily. I smile softly at her. “Remember when the Judge decided that you were too young to live with me?”

She nods.

“Well, the Judge decided you are old enough to live with me now and he signed a paper that says so. I have it in my desk if you want to see it. And that means nobody can take you away from me now. Not even Mommy. Unless you want to go back to her.”

“I love Mommy, but I think I’ll stay with you, Daddy.”

“Good. Now, can we agree that you won’t tell lies again, for no good reason?”

“It was a good reason,” she insists.

“Maddie,” I say warningly.

“All right,” she agrees with a sigh. Sometimes, she seems wise beyond her years, but hand shy, like a beaten dog.

I firmly doubt Regina would’ve ever laid a hand on her, but there are ways to hurt a kid without hitting them. Like ignoring them or treating them like a nuisance. My blood boils at the idea. “So anyway, we are going to paint your room this weekend,” I say.

She brightens instantly, her eyes shining. “We are?”

“Yes, I’ll get Erica to buy all the paints tomorrow. You can choose the colors you want and we’ll have a go at doing up your room on Saturday, okay?”

She nods happily.

I stroke her head. God, I love this kid.

“Do you do a lot of fun things, Daddy?” she asks, resting her chin in her palm, and looking up at me with those heart-melting eyes.

“What’s your idea of fun things?”

“I like eating Nutella.”

I laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wish I could eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I dream of eating Nutella.”

Now, I’m really laughing. “You dream of eating Nutella?”

“Mmmm.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure we have some Nutella back in the apartment. Now what else do you like to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugs and looks at her bare toes.

I can remember the first time I saw her. It was her toes that completely stunned me. They were like a row of corn kernels. So neat, so tiny, so unimaginably perfect. “Maddie?” I prompt.

She looks up. “Yeah?”

“I asked you a question. What fun things do you like to do?”

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. I can see her thinking. As if I had asked her a trick question.

“I wanna know. Really,” I say softly.

“I like…museums,” she ventures, nearly whispering.

I grin. “You do? Me, too.”

A spark of light flickers in her eyes. “Really?”

“Sure, I do. Do you like art? History? Science? I like science, myself.”

“Yeah, me too! But Mommy doesn’t like them. She says only boys like those kinds of boring things.” She sits up a little straighter against the pillow wedged between her back and the wall. “But I like history stuff too. Like the dinosaurs. I went to a dinosaur exhibit with my class last year and it was soooooo awesome.”

“We’ll have to find more things like that to go to,” I offer. “And amusement parks, if you like them. Do you?”

“Yeah!” Though her illness hasn’t completely passed, she looks more alive and energetic than I’ve seen her thus far. It takes so little to make a kid happy.

“I have an idea,” I venture, folding my hands on the desk and looking at her very seriously. “Make a list of all the fun things you like to do, or things you want to do, but have never had the chance yet. And we’ll start checking things off together. Deal?”

“Deal!” She immediately closes out the app she’s been playing with and opens a text document.

Watching her enthusiasm makes me smile. Kids these days. More confident with technology than most adults.

Now that she’s occupied, I use the opportunity to get back to work. I’m not crazy about the presentation that’s been put together for the demo, and it’s killing me to keep from micromanaging the team in charge of organizing things, but I have enough on my plate at the moment. I need to trust my employees. At least, that’s what Ryland keeps telling me.

My employees. That thought leads me down a path I’ve traveled many times in the last two days, to that meeting with Sam. It’s rare for me to wish I could go back and do something over, but that night is one of those instances. Everything went wrong, beginning to end.

I hate it when I lose control in tense situations, but I did. I’m supposed to be the guy who keeps his cool. I need to be. People rely on me for employment. It’s my job to keep it together when the rest of the world is falling apart.

So, the fact that some kid fresh out of college, some brash thing who’s still just trying out her sexuality, got under my skin to the point where I exploded and blurted out those sharp, harsh comments is unsettling. Even embarrassing.

Brash thing or not, she managed to drop a truth in my lap that’s even more unsettling—the fact that I might be perceived as a leader who sits in his office, waiting for answers, expecting others to fix problems while I tell them to hurry up, do it better, etcetera. Her dig that I should fix the bug in the drone myself if I knew so much, sticks in my craw like I cannot describe.

Even now, her attitude and her accusation stings just as freshly as it did when she first hurled it at me. That’s saying something, since it stung my ego in a pretty big way at the time.

A soft snore catches my attention, pushing thoughts of Sam from my mind. Maddie fell asleep while making up her list, the pillow under her head on the floor. I hope she’s dreaming of all the wonderful things we’ll do together. My brow furrows when I take in the full sight, however—my little girl, asleep on the office floor with a pile of blankets arranged beneath her.

I sigh.

This is the way things have to be for just a little while. I’ll do better for her when the pressure’s off. It just happens to be especially heavy at the moment. I wish Sam would hurry the hell up with the bug fix, since that’s one of the two overriding issues taking up the most room in my mind right now. The other is the Weismann thievery and the leak in my organization. I need a break more than ever.

Maybe it’s time for me to put my money where my mouth is. I can’t do anything about the leak just yet, but I can try to fix the overheating problem. What will Sam think when she comes into the lab tomorrow and finds that I’ve been messing around in her work? I’d hate it, but…

What the hell do I care?

Before I know it, I’m lifting Maddie and her bedding as gently as possible and carrying everything down the hall, into the elevator and down to the lab. I’ll show her that I can be a team player. I’m no dictator, expecting my minions to do my bidding without complaint or even assistance from their leader. I’m not above rolling up my sleeves and going into the trenches.

Evidently, I’m not alone in this.

The first thing I hear while unlocking and opening the door is a gasp.