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the past couple of years, and almost reached his shoulder. Her hazel eyes, wide and framed with dark lashes, gazed up at him.
    She has my mother’s eyes.
    Anne’s phrase echoed over and over again in his mind, as it had since he’d escaped from her office. He didn’t want the reminder that Laurel wasn’t completely his. With her medium brown hair, easy smile and tall, lean body, there’d been enough physically to let him and Ellen pretend she was really theirs.
    Now, he took his daughter’s arm and tugged her to a stop. He cupped her face in his hands. He studied her wide full mouth and the dusting of freckles on her nose, then the dark hair hanging long and straight down her back.
    He wanted to lie and say she and that strange woman had nothing in common. Only he’d never lied to his daughter. He wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, but her determination told him it did.
    “Do you look like her? A little I guess,” he said. “Not so much your coloring, but other things. She said you have her mother’s eyes.”
    As soon as he spoke the words he wanted to call them back. “You showed her my picture?”
    He nodded.
    Laurel’s smile faded. “Did she like me?”
    “I didn’t discuss that with her. I left right after I gave her the photo.” He bent down and kissed her forehead, then pulled her close for a hug. She was still young enough to allow the embrace, but he knew that in a year or two it wouldn’t be cool to hug her dad in public. “She can’t help but like you, Laurel.”
    “Promise?”
    Those wide hazel eyes he’d always thought so beautiful stared into his. He watched the shifting colors of blue and green and brown and knew that he would never look at them again without hearing Anne Baker’s words. Another woman had given her those eyes. Another family’s blood coursed through his child’s veins. Another—
    He forced the thoughts away. “I promise,” he said, squeezing her briefly, then releasing her. “Everything is going to work out.”
    As they approached the high rise, Laurel craned her neck to see to the top. “I wonder which floor she’s on. Do you think she can see us?”
    He shrugged and buzzed the button by the glass door.
    “Hello?” a soft voice said.
    Beside him, Laurel froze. “It’s Jake Masters. I’ve brought—” He had to clear his throat. “My daughter is with me.”
    “Come in.”
    The door buzzed and he pulled it open. Laurel walked in beside him. When they stood in front of the elevators, she reached for the button and pushed.
    “Do I look all right?” she asked, glancing down at her dress, then up at him.
    It had taken her the better part of the day to choose her outfit. Last night, after he’d told her about meeting Anne, Laurel had insisted on going shopping to find something to wear. The huge Galleria was just off their hotel. She’d tried on dozens of outfits, only to reject them all and decide on something she’d brought with her.
    He’d hated to see her so frantic to please, but told himself she was only a little girl. Her desire to make a good impression was natural under the circumstances. Yet it didn’t feel natural, he thought as he gave her a quick smile.
    “You look terrific.”
    “Thanks.” She smoothed the skirt of her green dress. The drop waist made her look taller. There weren’t any sleeves, but a ruffle began on each side, above her waist, and went up over her shoulders and down the back. A matching headband held her hair away from her face. Small gold earrings glittered from her ears. They’d had an on-going fight about makeup; he wanted her to wait until she was twenty-five and she wanted to wear it all today. Their compromise showed in the pale gloss on her lips.
    When the elevator doors opened, he stepped inside. Laurel hesitated. He had to push the button to hold the doors open.
    “Laurel?”
    She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Her mobile mouth straightened, then one side tilted down.
    “I’m