“Thank you,” I muttered to the helpful man and went around offering coffee.

When I got to my father, the tray shook in my hands. He eyed me a long second before taking a cup and then talking to the group again. When I finished, I excused myself, leaving the tray on a credenza in the conference room.

I sat at my cubicle in a row of three on each side separated by short panes of glass. The no privacy meant I couldn’t pull out my phone and text Reagan a short message about how my day was going. Instead, I opened the folder Misha had given me. There were instructions on how to get into the system. I did that and filled out the paperwork, deciding to drop it off when the day was done.

Kelly turned out to be great. After her meeting, she brought the team together in the same conference room and talked about the marketing initiatives we’d be working on the next few weeks. She had lunch brought in to help us brainstorm. Because I was new, I held back, not sure of the dynamics of the group. I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. We worked late, which I didn’t mind. I knew zero people in the city. Though the apartment I was given was simply amazing.

It was modern in every way with minimal furniture that was sleek with soft gray leather upholstery and shiny metal finishings. I tried not to get used to it. The kitchen was a cook’s dream with high-end appliances and quartz countertops. I was inspired enough to cook for myself. Epic fail there. Grandma had spoiled me with her cooking. I’d been taught, but my food never tasted like hers.

Two weeks in, I’d found my rhythm. It was all work for me with little else to do. We were in the conference room prepping for a meeting to reveal our plan for an updated website. IT worked with us to execute, but the marketing department had been given the task to design.

I’d worked on the careers page and not on the our businesses page. On screen, a nameless man stood with tiny icons all around him.

I spoke up before they clicked to the next page. “I think we should change that.”

Everyone turned to stare at me, but I didn’t back down. “I think Mr. Weber should be the face of the company and not some model.”

Kelly smiled. “He doesn’t like his picture anywhere. He has a team to make sure he’s kept out of the news.”

“I can understand that. But his picture is on the leadership page. I think…” I moved around to the computer on the table that projected the images on the screen. I’d had nothing but time to play around to understand the software. The mock site was up and changing images was simple. I quickly used another program to replace the nameless guy with the picture of my father we had on file. I inserted the new image on the website and it appeared. “Now we are sending a stronger message as to whose brainchild this company is.”

Everyone had gone quiet and I looked over to see the man himself had walked in.

“Whose idea was this?” he asked, moving into the room while pointing at the screen.

He captured everyone’s attention, including my own.

“I did,” I admitted, not expecting anyone to take the blame.

Kelly jumped in as peacemaker. “We’ll switch it out.”

“No. I want to understand why you did it.”

I cleared my throat and stood a little straighter. I believed it was the right move.

“You should be the face of the company. You are the founder. This image is already on the website, so it’s not something people don’t already have access to.”

I shut my mouth, hoping I hadn’t spoken too much.

“I’m not sure yet how I feel about that. Show me the rest.”

Everyone shifted gears. We hadn’t expected to present this to him. We were running it by other top executives before he would see it. But he’d shown up and everyone moved to his beat of the drum. I stayed silent, fearing his passive interest in my suggestion. Would I be fired?

When the meeting was over, Kelly came over.

“It was a good idea, even if they decide not to use it.”

I pursed my lips and slumped in my desk chair. Other suggestions had been made and I had to get my head back in the game and back to work.

Late that afternoon, a meeting request came through my email. I stared at it for long minutes. It wasn’t actually a request, but a summons. My presence was required on the seventy-second floor. The top floor.

My heart skittered down my chest and into my stomach. It wasn’t just because I was going to talk to my father; fear of heights was also at the top of my list. Since I didn’t think that would go over well as an excuse not to go there, I told Kelly about my appointment.

“I was cc’d on it. I’ve got your back no matter what,” she said, probably sensing my nervousness.

I nodded. Words were in a traffic jam in my throat—so many, so little time. I had no idea what I would say to the larger-than-life man. How could I toss in the mix that I was his daughter? It would seem out of place if he fired me. He would think it a ploy to keep my job.

I’d plodded over to the elevator and waited for my doom. If I didn’t throw up on the way there, that was a win. But I wasn’t sure I could keep from word vomiting when I got there. It was a total lose-lose situation.

I clung to the rail in the elevator, disappointed I was alone. That meant when I pressed the seventy-second button, the cab shot up like I was in a rocket on the way to space. I almost lost it then. I was certain my skin resembled pea green when I stepped out. Every outer wall was made of glass and my world tilted. I swore I would roll right past the glass and out into open air. I couldn’t move. Fear nailed my feet to the floor.

For a second, my mind skittered back to the disaster riding the Ferris wheel with Gavin.

“You must be Megan Stevens,” a woman said who sat in front of another glass office.

She was an older, pleasant-looking woman with a kind face.

I nodded.

“Ah, you must be one of those.”

I had no idea what she meant, but agreed anyway.

“Okay dear, focus on me and come forward because I’m afraid Mr. Weber won’t see you out in the hall.”

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I ignored the impressive views of the city. I’d spotted Central Park one way and more skyline in the other. Then I moved straight ahead like a horse with blinders on. It still felt like I was walking down an incline but I made it.

“Good job. Now just walk through those doors.”

She pointed to the office behind her. I focused on that task and opened it. He stood in front of a desk that was a few feet from the outer glass, which could shatter. My rational brain tried to tell me that it was probably very thick and would take a lot to break, but I couldn’t do it. I stopped only two steps in the door.

“Megan, have a seat.”

Terror shorted my brain. There was something I should have clued in on. All I could do was frantically, in small bursts, shake my head.

“Ah.”

He held out a hand to my left. There was a sofa and two chairs. I inched to the side until I got to the safety of the sofa, which was farthest away from the views. He sat in a chair opposite me, unbuttoning his navy suit jacket.

“First I want to say I’m extremely impressed with your forward thinking and logic about the branding on the website. We are going to go with it. Like you said, my picture is already there. But I draw the line at not using that image on any pamphlets or other marketing materials.”

“So I’m not fired?” I nervously asked.

He chuckled. “No.” Then he looked me over, but there was nothing sexual about it.

“Do I have something on me?”

Oh my goodness, I can’t believe I just said that.

“No, Megan. It’s just you look so much like your mother.”

Did I hear him right?

“Wait. What?”

He sat forward, planting his forearms on his legs.

“I know who you are.”

What do you know?

“You’re Margarete’s daughter.”

How much did he know? Stale air clung to my lungs.

“You’re my daughter.”

Air inflated my lungs.

“You know?”

“Since the day you were born.”

“How?”

The question seemed so insignificant to the wealth of answers he could give me.

“Just because she kicked me out of her life for good reasons didn’t mean I stopped loving her. I kept tabs on her, making sure she was safe. When she showed signs that she was carrying a child and gave birth to you, the math was easily done.”

“But I could be someone else’s kid.”

A humorless laugh escaped him. “Your mother was only with me. And all I have to do is look at you for proof. You may look a lot like her, but I can see bits of me and my grandmother in you.”

“Like what?”

Out of all the questions to ask. But I wasn’t thinking.

“Like the shape of your eyes, the tiny dimple in the right of your chin.”

“You never came for me,” I choked.

Unshed tears clouded my eyes as emotion threatened to force them out.

“I remember the last time I’d seen my father. I was six or seven. He told me one day I would understand that he was giving me the greatest gift ever. He told me people were starting to wonder if the kid with his mistress was his. He walked away and let me have a normal life free of his burdens, so he told me. I grew up hating him for leaving me until I was old enough to learn the truth about him. Then I understood. He loved me enough to let go because him not being in my life was better for me. I gave you and your mother the same gift.”

“But Mom said your dad ordered you to use her.”

He sighed. “He did ask me to get information. He never told me to fall in love with whomever I retrieved it from. And after months of undercover work, if you can call it that, I lost his respect when I lied and said I’d found nothing. He called me useless with book smarts and no street sense.”

“Have you talked to him since?”

That probably wasn’t the question I should ask.

“No. Her safety was far more important to me than his esteem.”

Could I fall instantly in love with him? His answers seemed sincere.

“Are you the reason I got this job?”

He sat up. “No. Honestly, I didn’t know you worked here until you walked in and almost spilled coffee on me.” His smile was endearing. “I was shocked to see you. You got this job on your own, though I would have given you one if you reached out to me.”

“Don’t be offended, but that makes me feel better to know I earned my spot here.”

His grin made me want to hug him. Could I hug him?

“I’m so very proud of you and the woman you’ve become.”

That comment and another he’d made suggested he’d watched me over the years. I was about to ask when his assistant buzzed in.

“Mr. Weber, there is an Alonzo here to see you. He won’t tell me his last name.” Over the crackle we heard the man say, “He’ll know my name.”

My father shot up. “We’ll continue this later. I’ll contact you.”

He held out a hand as if to drag me out the door. It opened before we got there. A slick, older Latin man blessed with good looks sauntered in. His eyes raked over me and my skin crawled.

“Ms. Stevens, thank you for your time,” my father said formally.

“Gregor, I must say you did well for yourself.” I made the mistake of looking back and the man’s sly grin landed on me. I swallowed. “And your taste in women is impeccable.”

“She’s just an intern,” my father snapped.

“Intern, huh? She could do us in turn.”

I moved faster than I had since I’d come up here. I’d made it out the door, but it hadn’t yet closed when I heard, “So brother, we finally meet,” from the voice that belonged to my uncle.

Bile shot to the back of my throat. The idea that my uncle thought I was sexy blinded me from my fear of heights. I stabbed the elevator button like I was being chased. When the bell dinged, I stumbled in almost unable to stay on my feet. He obviously didn’t know who I was to him, but I did and I was totally grossed out.

Somehow I made it to my desk. A few messages from the team got my head back on work. Our deadline had moved up. There wasn’t time to process what had happened.

I ate at my desk for lunch. More than ever, I wanted to make my father proud and come through on my section of the project I was working on.

“There you are.”

The Latin accent was unmistakable and might have been sexy if it didn’t belong to my uncle. I turned and there he was with a hand propped on my desk, blocking my escape.

His grin promised things that were illegal in the States, us being related and all.

“So, how about I take you to lunch?”

“I have a boyfriend,” I blurted.

“Ah.” He stood. “Too bad. There are things I could show you that I bet your boyfriend couldn’t.”

“Yeah, um…I have to get back to work.”

I stumbled over that explanation, unsure if he would truly back off. He looked as dangerous as the internet rumors suggested. Though there hadn’t been pictures, stories of the drug king’s sons were legendary.

He gave me another once-over. I spun around in my chair to face my monitor. He chuckled and I prayed he’d walked away. He’d appeared like a ghost, so I hope he’d disappear in similar fashion.

Later that night, I was on the phone with Reagan. Before I’d left and after the crazy start of summer, I told her all about my dad. Now that we didn’t live with each other, her family couldn’t use that knowledge against her.

“I spoke to him today,” I began.

“Oh my god, that’s great.” She hesitated. “Or is it?”

Oh, I loved her. She would support me in all things.

“Yes, it’s good. He actually knew who I was.”

“Wow. What did he say?”

I filled her in on the conversation.

“Eww, creepy uncle.”

“Yes, but to be fair, he has no idea who I am. And what was up with my dad practically shoving me out the door?”

“Didn’t you say he’s like the drug king’s son? And your dad said he wanted to keep you out of there.”

“True. But if he comes around again, I just might blurt it out that we’re related.”

“You should probably not do that,” she said slowly.

She was right, but that didn’t make it easy.

“On a side note, I saw Gavin yesterday.”

Hearing his name gave me goose bumps. I feigned indifference. “Yeah, how is he?”

“Miserable, if you ask me.”

“That’s too bad. I want him to be happy.”

“Sure you do. Admit knowing he’s pining away for you makes you deliriously happy.”

“He’s not pining away for me.”

“Uh…yes he is. He like grilled me about how you were doing, if your apartment was in a safe area, etc., etc.”

“He’s just—”

“So in love with you.”

“He is not.”

Though she couldn’t see it, my face had to be beet red. She went on to tell me about her afternoon with the guys. They had fun and it made me a little jealous that I wasn’t there. A knock sounded at my door.

“Hey, my takeout is here.”

“Given up on cooking?” She laughed.

“Yes,” I admitted, getting to my feet and trudging to the door. “I’ll call you later.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

She was still laughing as we ended the call. I shoved the phone in my flannel shorts and opened the door.

The delivery guy was cute but young—maybe high school.

“Ummm…”

Then I realized what I was wearing. The thin white shirt was practically see through. I couldn’t cover my tits because I had to pay and get the food from him. Thankfully the kid’s eyes shot to mine.

“Sorry,” he muttered, which only made him more precious. “Here’s the bill.”

I took it from his shaky hand and pulled money from my other pocket, exchanging it for the food. Though I would normally give the poor kid a huge tip, I still needed change. The elevator chimed and I heard talking. I held my breath when Alonzo and my father came into view.

He said something in Spanish—at least that’s the language I thought he spoke.

“You brought me a gift,” he slurred to my father.

My uncle slowed almost to a halt in front of my door. My father’s alarmed look had me wanting to shut myself inside and lock up tight. But the kid was still fumbling for change.

Dad got him moving, but not before he made my delivery boy red with embarrassment.

“Look at him, he’s so nervous because he wants to get his little dick wet for the first time.”

I didn’t count the money the boy shoved at me. He and I both wanted to run and hide. I closed the door and turned the deadbolt.

The food didn’t appeal. I went for a shower feeling dirty. When I got out, there was a text message on my phone from a number I didn’t recognize.

Unknown: Sorry about my brother. I will stay until he passes out and then I’ll stop by.

It had to be from my father; Dad wasn’t up on text speech. He’d used all words in a long text.

Me: K

So when the knock came, I was only slightly hesitant to open the door.