“No fucking way, Kevin. No. Flat out, no,” I burst out.

“Aw…come on, Quinn. You have to help me. I can’t leave her here alone. She’s just a kid. Stella will never send her to me again if she finds out I left her here without adult supervision. It’s partly your fault I have to go anyway,” he cajoled in my ear, his voice slightly muffled. He must have pinned the phone between his shoulder and his ear, to free up his hands so he could pack as he moved around his house.

I’d have taken the trip myself, but they’d specifically requested Kevin. I left some, uh, broken hearts there, last time I went across, and Kevin and I rightly figured they wouldn’t want to see me again too quickly. Either Kevin went or we could lose a potentially huge investor, and neither of us wanted that.

Annoyed, I ran my hands through my hair. I felt like an asshole saying no. Having to run off at the last minute to chase a business deal would have been nothing to him if his daughter hadn’t just arrived on a visit from England where she lived with Kevin’s ex. I know it was only one damn week, but I needed the responsibility of taking care of his teenage daughter in my house like I needed a hole in my head. What did I know about taking care of a girl that age?

“Are you sure there’s no-one else?” I tried with a touch of desperation. “You must have some family around here she could stay with, or-”

“If I did, she’d be there already,” he interrupted. “Come on, man, Please.”

I looked out of the tinted windows of my car, and wished I’d ignored his call and let it go to voicemail. Then I could have gone home, poured myself a generous scotch, and enjoyed my night without having this shit poured all over my head. I had plans this evening. A hot date. A sure thing.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you unless I had no other option,” Kevin added.

“Well, thanks.” I broke into a reluctant grin. You could always trust Kevin to be straight up real. He was right though. I had zero interest in kids. Babies actually made me break out in a sweat. Whiny, clingy things that need changing. Although, I wasn’t always like that. When Kevin first became a father, we had both just turned twenty, and I kind of enjoyed babysitting for him. Not so much the changing diapers thing, but generally, the sensation of interacting with something so harmless and innocent. Besides real babies, I found out very quickly, were a great babe magnet too. Not as good as a sports car, but still surprisingly impressive.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said hastily. “You could be accomplished, charming, and an accommodating human being when you want. I know you can handle this no problem.”

We’d worked together long enough for me to know Kevin didn’t ask for favors when he could fill in the gaps himself. Kevin was one of the good guys and there’s not much I wouldn’t do for him. I drummed my fingers on the window frame and exhaled. “You’re not going to let me get out of this one, are you?”

“Nope,” he said, sensing victory and pressing his point home. “It’s just for a week, less if I can get everything moving by Wednesday. I just don’t want to dump her on anybody she doesn’t know. She only comes over once a year, and I don’t want it to be a drag for her.”

“Yeah, okay.” I sighed.

I knew how dedicated Kevin was to his daughter. He had Madison when he was basically a kid himself, right out of college, at nineteen. She was a mistake, and at first, he was furious with Stella, but the moment he laid eyes on his daughter he fell in love with her. At that time, the two of us were just getting our first business venture off the ground so we used to spend long nights hiding out in our rented apartment working.

When Stella had to work nights, she would drop the kid off at our place and Kevin would set up a crib in the corner just so he could be close to her. She was a good baby. Hardly ever cried and I grew quite fond of her. Then Stella moved back to London and took Madison with her. It broke Kevin’s heart that he could only see his daughter a couple of times a year. He would fly to London once and Stella would bring her over the other time. Stella would then go off to New York shopping and the kid would stay with us. She was a cheeky little monkey then and she brightened up the place for two weeks.

Once, when Madison was about six, Kevin was busy so I took her out for a milkshake. Halfway through, she put her shake down and said, “Would it be okay if I came to stay with Dad and you, Uncle Quinn?”

I was shocked. “What about your poor Mom, kiddo? She’ll be so sad without you.”

Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “I don’t think my Mom wants me anymore. She’s got a new boyfriend now and she always send me to Auntie Marcie’s house to stay the night. I don’t like Auntie Marcie’s boy.”

My gut burned for her. How could Stella do that to the poor child? I told Kevin and they fought about it. He wanted to have her back, but she refused. Things changed after that. Stella refused to come to the States anymore. She decided to send Madison as an unaccompanied child traveler, and he had to go and pick her up from the airport. By then the business had taken off big time so Kevin and I decided to find our own digs and I didn’t really see much of her anymore.

My next memory of her is vague. She must have been twelve or thirteen. Skinny, blonde, steel braces, and so fucking shy she wouldn’t even meet my eyes. She had obviously turned out to be a nice kid, but I didn’t feel the same warmth I’d felt for that sweet child I’d helped to raise, all blonde ringlets and trusting innocence. Or what I had felt when she asked if she could come stay with us. She had become just another kid.

For one reason or another, I never saw her again. I remember being invited to her sixteenth birthday party, but I ended up not going because of some proposal needed finishing up urgently.

“You’ll take some time to show her around, right?” Kevin asked. “It doesn’t have to be much, but just…take her to a couple of shows or museums, enough to keep her entertained until I get back.”

“You know she’s a grown-ass adult, right?” I asked. “She probably doesn’t want some stuffy, old guy following her around museums.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Just…just don’t let her get into any trouble.”

I frowned. I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll try, but I know fuck all about policing a young girl. Get back as soon as you can, okay?”

“You bet I will.”

“Are you going to drop her off?”

“I’m running late. Will you swing by and pick her up from here?”

“When do you have to leave?”

“An hour.”

“I’ll be there before that.”

“Hey, thanks for this, man. I owe you one.”

I hung up, leaned back against the expensive leather of my car, and sighed.