Claiming The Captain's Baby. Rochelle Alers

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Claiming The Captain's Baby - Rochelle  Alers


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with: Thank you.

      He could always count on Jocelyn to simplify his life. Once he had set up the company’s international division, Giles couldn’t convince his older brother to run the department with him. Patrick had declined because, as a husband and now a father of two young boys under the age of six, he claimed he didn’t want to be away from his family even if it was only for a week.

      Patrick also professed he preferred working with their father in the legal department to jetting off to exotic climes, leaving Giles to ponder how much longer he would be able to maintain a one-man operation. Several third-generation Wainwrights cousins were still undecided whether to come and work for the company. He had made them generous offers to come and work with him, yet they still were ambivalent about becoming involved in the real estate business.

      He finished his lunch and left the tray on the floor outside the door. Walking across the room, he flopped down on the king-size bed and reached for the cell phone on the bedside table and dialed the number to Jordan’s cell phone. It rang four times before going directly to voice mail. He decided not to leave a message. Either Jordan was in court or with a client. He made another call, this time to his cousin’s office.

      Jordan had always teased Giles, declaring they were the family outsiders. Jordan and his law school mentor had gone into partnership, setting up Chatham and Wainwright, PC, Attorneys at Law. The firm was housed in a brownstone in Harlem’s Mount Morris Park Historic District. Despite his reputation as a brilliant corporate attorney, Jordan refused to work for the family business, while Giles had opted for the military rather than join the company once he’d graduated college.

      “Good afternoon, Chatham and Wainwright. How may I direct your call?”

      “I’d like to speak to Jordan Wainwright.”

      “May I ask who’s calling?”

      “Giles Wainwright.”

      “Hold on, Mr. Wainwright. I’ll see if he’s available to take your call.”

      “Thank you.” He didn’t have to wait long before he heard Jordan’s familiar greeting.

      “What’s up, G?”

      Giles smiled. Jordan was the only one in the family who referred to him by an initial. “I’d like to hire your firm to conduct a background check on a couple of people.” A swollen silence followed his request.

      “Why are you asking me when your legal department can do it?”

      “I’m asking you because what I’m going to say to you should stay between us. Attorney-client privilege,” he added.

      “What’s going on, Giles?”

      He knew he had gotten Jordan’s attention when he addressed him by name. Giles was completely truthful when he told Jordan everything—from sleeping with Samantha, the phone call asking him to come to Wickham Falls, West Virginia, and to the revelation that he was now the father of a seven-month-old little girl and the rights extended to him as her father.

      “That’s really a low blow,” Jordan drawled.

      Giles smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “I agree. I need to know everything about Samantha Madison Lawson and Mya Gabrielle Lawson. Both were adopted, so I don’t know how far back you’ll be able to go.”

      “I’ll have the investigators begin with their adoption records and go forward from there. Is there anything you’ve noticed about the aunt that would make her unfit to be your daughter’s mother?”

      “Not really. We spent less than an hour together. Her home is clean and tastefully furnished, and she claims to have taught college-level literature.”

      “Does she appear financially able to raise and educate the child until she is emancipated?” Jordan asked.

      Giles stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. That’s what I need for your people to find out.” Although Mya drove a late-model vehicle, it wasn’t in the luxury category. He also had no idea if Samantha had life insurance, and if she did, if Mya had been her beneficiary. His concern was how she was supporting herself as a stay-at-home mother.

      He had called Jordan because he knew he would never divulge what Giles had just told him. However, Giles knew he owed it to his parents—his mother in particular—to let her know that they had another grandchild.

      “Are you prepared to accept the results if they come back clean?”

      “I’ll have to accept it, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting to claim my daughter.”

      “I wouldn’t expect you to give up,” Jordan continued, “because I would do the same if I were in a similar situation. What I wouldn’t do is antagonize your daughter’s mother. Try to remain civil with her and perhaps she’ll come around and allow you more involvement in the baby’s life.”

      “That’s what I’m hoping will happen.” Giles paused. “Do I have an alternative if the background checks yield nothing? What can I use to sue for at least joint custody?”

      “Your only other option would be charging her with neglect. You’ll have to be able to prove that the child has failed to thrive, that she doesn’t get the medical care she needs, or if you’ve witnessed any verbal or physical abuse. I’ve never handled a child abuse or neglect case, but Aziza has. Although she’s well versed in the family court system, I don’t want to involve her in this because she’s so close to her due date. Maybe after the baby’s born and if she feels up to it, I’ll ask her to look into this for you.”

      “When is she due again?”

      “October 5. The doctor says the baby could come a week before or a week after that date.”

      “You still don’t know if you’re having a girl or a boy?”

      “No. We want to be surprised.”

      “Have you narrowed it down to names?”

      “We’re leaning toward Maxwell if it’s a boy and Layla if it’s a girl.”

      “I like those names.”

      His cousin and his wife were given the privilege of selecting names for their unborn baby, while he’d had no say in naming his daughter. Every time he thought about Samantha’s deception, it served to refuel his anger.

      “Look, G, I’m going to hang up because I have a client waiting for me. And don’t worry about the background checks. I’ll have the investigators get on it ASAP.”

      “Thanks, Jordan.”

      “No need to thank me. Talk to you later.”

      Giles ended the call and rested his head on folded arms. He would take Jordan’s advice and not do anything to antagonize Mya because she held all of the cards when it came to Lily’s future. At least for now.

      What she wasn’t aware of was his intent to use any and everything short of breaking the law to claim his daughter.

      * * *

      The following evening Giles opened the door to his apartment and waited for his mother to emerge from the elevator.

      Amanda Wainwright stepped out of the car, her smile indicating she was as pleased to see him as he was her. It was a rare occasion when Giles saw his mother without a fringe of hair sweeping over her ears and forehead. Tonight she had styled her chin-length, liberally gray-streaked black hair off her face. She was conservatively dressed in tailored taupe slacks she had paired with a white tailored blouse. She was hardly ever seen in public without her ubiquitous navy blazer, Gucci loafers and the magnificent strand of South Sea pearls and matching studs she had inherited from her grandmother.

      There had been a time after graduating college and before he’d joined the marines when they had rarely spoke to each other. However, that changed when Giles called to inform his mother he was being deployed to Afghanistan. After all, he’d owed it to her to let


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