cided to get married and start a family, he would dedicate his world to them, because that was the way it should be.
But instead, he’d just found out his son was six months old and he’d missed everything so far. He would remedy that, and soon. He wasn’t sure what Violet had in mind, but he would be a father to Knox. He would take him to Yankees games, be there for every T-ball tryout and parent-teacher conference.
“Why didn’t you tell me I had a son?” He was surprised at how cold his own voice sounded, but he was choking back a sea of emotions. It was better to show none at all than to let them rush out of him all at once.
Violet’s expression twisted in irritation. “You’re really asking me that?”
Apparently she was going to stick fast to her amnesia story. He didn’t really buy it, but he’d go along with it for now. “So I guess you’re saying since you forgot we slept together, you forgot I was the father?”
She slid her chair closer to the desk and folded her neatly manicured hands over the leather and parchment blotter. Her brow furrowed as she seemed to search for her words. “The way you say it sounds so convenient, as though I haven’t spent the last six months of my life agonizing over the fact that I had no idea who my baby’s father was.”
“Who did you think it belonged to for the months before that?”
Her gaze dropped down to her desk, avoiding him. “I thought it was Beau’s child—my ex you mentioned before. Since I had no memory of our time together, I had no reason to think otherwise. We got engaged. We planned a wedding and future together. And then the doctor in the delivery room handed him a baby with a full head of curly red hair and the whole room just went into shock.”
Aidan tried not to laugh. He could just picture the scene with everyone wondering where this pasty Irish kid had come from. It would be funny if it hadn’t meant that he’d missed the birth of his first child in the process. “How’d he take that? Not well I’d imagine.”
Violet sighed and looked up at him. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re not together anymore and we know he isn’t Knox’s father. I’ve got the lab results to prove it.”
“What did your parents say?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Did we discuss my parents before?”
It seemed as though Violet didn’t remember their conversation. That probably had more to do with the tequila than her head injury. She’d been pretty upset when she’d strolled into his bar and demanded a shot with tears in her eyes. He’d listened to her story and made it his mission to make her smile again, never imagining that decision would lead them to this point. To a child.
“Not at length,” he explained. “Only that they were pushing you to be with this guy even though he was a grade-A jerk. I can imagine having another man’s baby was a disappointment for them after thinking you two were going to get married and they’d get their way.”
“Well, yes, but not as much of a disappointment as having an unknown man’s baby. They certainly can’t have their fancy friends and family finding out the truth. They’d be much happier if I just took Beau back and pretended like Knox belonged to him. I think they’re still telling people that Beau is the father and we’re just having a rough patch. My mother tried to convince me that we had a recessive pale, redheaded gene in our Greek and Israeli heritage.” She shook her head. “I’ve never met one. They’re just grasping at straws.”
“I suppose that means they’re not going to be too happy to find out his real father is a broke Irishman who owns a bar.”
Violet looked at him with an expression of grave seriousness. He could tell the past year had weighed heavily on her mind. If she was telling the truth about forgetting everything, he imagined it would be difficult. The one week you forget ending up being the most important week of your life.
“I’m not worried about them. In the past few months, I’ve done a lot of soul-searching and one of the things I’ve discovered is that I’m no longer concerned with what makes my parents happy. My whole life has been about what makes them happy. Now my focus is on myself and my son, where it should be.”
Needing to see it again, Aidan reached out and took the framed portrait from her desk. He ran his finger across the rosy cheeks and bright smile of the child he’d never met. Knox definitely had his coloring, but he had Violet’s almond-shaped eyes and full lips. He had her smile, even though his was toothless at the moment. He imagined their son had an infectious giggle the way babies did. He hoped to hear it in person as soon as possible.
“I would’ve told you,” Violet said in a small voice. He looked up from the photo and searched her dark eyes for the truth of her words. “This isn’t about other people’s opinions or whether or not I wanted you in Knox’s life. If I had known, I wouldn’t have hesitated to tell you, or to find you again. But I truly didn’t remember until now. That’s why I cried when it all came back at once. It was an overwhelming sense of relief, finally knowing the truth after all these months.”
Aidan sighed and looked back at his son. He wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but at the moment it didn’t really matter. If he wanted to see his child, he’d take her at her word and hope for the best. “So now what?” he asked.
Violet tapped her fingers anxiously at the edge of her desk. “Well, I suppose I should start by calling my attorney. He can get the ball rolling on setting up a paternity test, just to be certain, then we can start working on arrangements for visitation and such.”
Only a rich person would start off this process with calling their attorney instead of going for the obvious choice of allowing him to meet his son. Aidan didn’t even have an attorney, much less one on retainer who took his calls whenever he needed him.
Of course, Aidan didn’t have anywhere near the amount of the money he suspected Violet had. The Niarchos Foundation gave away millions of dollars every year to worthy causes, and that was just a small fraction of the family’s fortune. He’d done a little reading about the family when he was looking for places to help with his project. Her grandfather had made a fortune in Greece shipping steel to the United States. When the family came to America, their wealth only grew by leaps and bounds.
Aidan couldn’t imagine how many billions of dollars the Niarchos family empire controlled. They probably just started this foundation so the IRS didn’t eat them alive. He didn’t really like or trust the rich as a rule, but if they were handing out money, he certainly could use some. All he wanted was a small piece to help him kick off his halfway house since every penny he’d saved went into Murphy’s.
He never dreamed the daughter and chair of the foundation would be the woman he remembered from all those nights ago. Or that coming here today would put him on a path to meeting the son he never knew about.
“That’s all well and good,” he said, “and I’m sure it needs to be done, but I was thinking something a little less legally binding to start off with.”
“Like what?” Violet asked.
“Like a playdate with my son.”
* * *