Opportunity Knocks

Billionaire Nolan Ross sat at his computer. He was breaking in to some of the Hampton Royalty's Security Systems. It was an easy thing for him to do and sure as hell entertained him. This was a normal activity for him to do on a weekday morning such as this.

Normal.

The word sounded foreign. He hadn't had a normal day since Emily Thorne aka Amanda Clark, waltzed into his life, or rather, since she invaded the Hamptons. Nothing interesting had happened in a while. Emily decided to lay low and keep an eye out for Frank, the crazy guard for the Grayson clan. Emily didn't need her saboteur, not now.

Nolan sighed as he clicked through the files. So much debauchery and sin to peruse, so little time. Where to start?

The melodious ring of his doorbell interrupted his hack. Nolan glanced down at his attire and shrugged. His dark robe barely covered his sculpted and toned chest. His navy pajama pants hung low on his hips. A familiar smirk made its way onto his lips. Oh well.

If Emily was paying him an early visit, she'd get a show, and if it was anyone else…well, he didn't really care for his fellow Hamptonites.

The bell rang again, causing him to mutter to himself, "Jesus, impatient much?"

Finally he opened the door, but a dirty rich Hampton Dweller did not stand before him, nor did Emily Thorne. No, the person in front of him was so strange that she seemed to be photo shopped into place.

A teenage girl stood in his doorway. She wore a white tank top, displaying cream-colored skin. Her legs were clad in dark jeans. Her hair was jet black, the color seemed so familiar to Nolan, although he couldn't place it. A pair of sunglasses, very unlike the large Paris Hilton glasses he was used to seeing on the women's heads, rested on the top of her head. Her hair cascaded down passed her shoulders. Her face seemed somehow familiar too.

Her eyes are what caught him.

They were impossibly his eyes. His color, reflected back at him. It was somehow unreal and unnerving.

He looked at her entire face and saw a lollipop in her mouth, the stick being twirled between her index finger and thumb. She took it out of her mouth and smiled.

"Nolan Ross?" her voice was different than he would have thought. For such a rough appearance, her voice was cool and smooth.

"Who's asking?" he almost snapped. He didn't mean to, but this girl caught him off guard.

She offered him a closed lipped smile. "My name is Antoinette, and I'm your daughter."

The force of her words, so easily delivered, nearly knocked him back. He regained his footing enough to not stutter as he said, "This is a joke."

She shrugged, "'Fraid not Nolan."

"This is a con," he accused.

She pulled some folded papers from her back pocket. "I have the blood work results right here."

The billionaire snatched them from her grasp. Antoinette just put the lollipop back in her mouth and continued to twirl it. Nolan's eyes scanned the page quickly.

"How did you get my records?" he spat. Yes, finally, the appropriate response: anger.

"Please, Medical Record Security is a joke. It only took me two minutes."

It was the same thing he would have said, given the circumstance. He had gotten into the medical records of others without a hitch, although it would be a feat for anyone else. After all, he was a genius. Hearing the words come from someone else however…it was…surreal.

He finally opened the door more, "Come in."

Antoinette smiled, "Thanks Nolan."

The girl picked up the duffel bag the blond man hadn't noticed and walked passed him. The billionaire shut the door and followed her.

"Have a seat," he gestured to two white couches.

Antoinette plopped into one and Nolan sat opposite her. He went back to the papers.

"Who's you're mother?" he suddenly asked. His eyes searched her same colored ones.

She didn't take the taffy out of her mouth this time, "Isabella Mason, you two went to high school together."

"Why didn't she tell me?" Nolan regretted his tone, but he needed to know. He had liked Isabella, had often regretted not keeping in touch with her after he left school to get rich.

"She didn't know she was pregnant with me until you were well into you 'business venture'," she had developed a tone of her own. Accusation and light bitterness laced her tone like arsenic. "She didn't want to get in the way of your dream."

Nolan gripped the paper, "Where is she?"

Antoinette's glare was ice. "Dead."

"How?"

"Why do you care?" she snapped.

Nolan was literally taken aback. He dropped the papers on the table. "I care," he muttered.

Antoinette's eyes, his eyes, seemed to stare at him for a long while until she sighed.

"Someone…came into our house," the teen began. "She was home. She surprised them while they were going through her jewelry. The police say that she tried to reason with the intruder before she was shot. They figured that out because her good jewelry, the few things she inherited from my grandmother, was gone, and there was no way anyone could have found them otherwise. She gave him what he wanted, but the bastard still shot her." Antoinette's eyes were cold and her hands were clenched together in her lap. She suddenly came back to the present and leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

"That a good enough answer for you?"

"Were you there?" Nolan asked quietly.

The girl suddenly sat back, "Of course not." Her words seemed rushed, as if she wanted to get off the topic of her mother's death ASAP.

"How old were you Antoinette?" Nolan felt a compelling need to know more. He also felt odd, finally saying her name for himself. He knew Isabella had loved France. They had even talked about going there together.

"Tony, call me Tony. I hate being named after a scapegoat in history," she twirled her lollipop again. "I'm seventeen now, and it happened three years ago."

"You were fourteen?" the blond man was appalled.

She nodded. "So I could either go live with her boyfriend or go into the foster care system."

"If you're only seventeen, how'd they let you go?"

Tony leaned against the back of the couch, "I changed their records, made myself eighteen. Once I did, they were only too happy to let me go."

Nolan stood up suddenly. "I'm getting dressed, then we're going."

"Going?" Tony followed her biological father up the stairs. "Going where?"

"The doctor's, I want to double check your blood work, make sure you're not lying."

Tony froze on the stairs and glared at his ascending back. "You still don't believe me after all that? Mom was right, you are an ass."

Nolan did not reply nor turn around. He did not want his daughter to know the truth:

That Isabella's words, reiterated through her daughter, hurt him.

That he didn't think she was lying.

That he was putting on a show for his benefit only.

That he was not only going upstairs to change, but to take a minute to think.

That despite her harsh words, he could hear the hurt in her voice too.

Xxx

"Ow!" Nolan muttered as the nurse pierced his vein.

"Zillion-aire Nolan Ross is a baby when it comes to needles?" Tony asked dryly, watching his blood flow through the plastic tube.

"That's not an actual number. I'm a multi-billionaire," he corrected. Damn he sounded like a parent.

"Same difference. Point is, you have more money than you know what to do with," Tony began to fiddle with the cotton cloth clumsily taped down with medical tape.

"Don't mess with it," Nolan ordered offhandedly, almost naturally.

The nurse gave him a knowing smile as she removed the needle. "It will be about twenty minutes Mr. Ross."

The blond glared at his bandaged arm, "Fine. We'll wait."

The nurse left the room, leaving the bastard with the father.

"What are you gonna do if I'm right?" Antoinette asked.

Nolan rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know."

"Well what about Amanda Clark?" Tony asked nonchalantly.

Nolan's head shot up, and he crossed the space between them. He loomed over her as he asked, "What do you know?"

Tony didn't seem bothered at all by his close presence. She actually laughed. "I did a little digging. Well, now she's called Emily Thorne right?"

Nolan grabbed the front of her tank, "Who are you working for?"

Antoinette knocked his hand away, "This again? Please. If I worked for anyone the amount of information I've obtained could have gotten me on a plane straight to Cabo San Lucas with a million or more dollars lining my pockets," she stood and turned her back to him. For some strange reason, and Nolan wasn't sure if he was imagining it, she seemed to be shaking.

"But I didn't. I could've and I didn't, doesn't that tell you something?"

Nolan felt something stab his chest-regret. He was sorry for hurting this girl.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she edged away from him.

"Antoinette…" he began.

"Save it," she growled. "Let's just wait until the tests get back. Then you can talk all you want."

Nolan Ross shut his mouth, cursing his stupidity.

Twenty minutes later, as promised, the doctor strolled in.

"Congratulations Mr. Ross," the doctor said with a smug smile. "You have a daughter."

Antoinette shot Nolan a look.

Nolan cursed mentally. He smiled however and took his daughter by the arm.

"C'mon daughter of mine, we better get going. Thanks Doc." He paused to pull out a wad of bills. "Keep this quiet for me, would ya?" The billionaire put the money in the doctor's shirt pocket as they left.

"I need to call Emily," Nolan muttered as he continued to drag Tony across the parking lot.

"Will you lemme go!" she muttered, trying to yank out of his grip.

"No," Nolan dug his smartphone (top of the line) out of his pocket and hit number 3.

"Speed dial? Really?" Tony sniggered.

"Shush," he ordered in a stern tone before Emily's voice came on the line.

"What Nolan?" she sounded annoyed, then again, she always sounded annoyed when he called.

"I have a…" he glanced at the teen he was pulling in tow. "Look, I need to come over."

"You can't, Daniel's coming over. Just tell me."

"Well…" Nolan opened the passenger door and all but shoved his bastard in. He slammed the door then leaned against it. "Let's just say another player has been added to our game."

"This is not a game Nolan," Jeez he hated that tone. "Just spit it out already."

Nolan rubbed a hand over his eyes, "I have a kid."

"What?" Emily questioned quietly.

Nolan straightened, and the superior tone he used on others reappeared, "I am the proud father of a teenage girl named Antoinette."

"Maybe it's a scam."

"Blood work says it's not," he replied.

"What are you going to do?"

Nolan sighed. He had been asking himself that very question since she had walked into his life. He knew he couldn't abandon her now. He didn't want to. He could just send her to some lofty private school with a hefty spending fund and forget about her for a while, at least until she finished high school. But then again…

"She's going to live with me," he spoke with finality, trying to give Emily no room for argument.

"Fine, but you don't have to tell her anything, at least not yet-"

"She already knows," his voice overlay Emily's.

Emily sighed again, "How much?"

He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter, "Not sure, but she knows your Amanda Clark."

"How did she find that out?"

"Apparently she's inherited my skills set," Nolan felt almost proud relying the information to Emily. Almost.

"That could come in handy," Emily muttered to herself. "Come by later so we can discuss this further."

"See you later Ems," Nolan said as his goodbye.

She just hung up.

Nolan sighed and walked around to the driver's side. He opened the door and climbed in.

"What'd your master say?" Tony asked.

Nolan shot her a glare, "We're meeting her later."

"We?"

"Yes. You and me," Nolan looked at her as he drove down the street. She looked so out of place in her department store jeans and plain, cheap tank.

One of these things is not like the other…

As he stopped at a red light, his eyes traveled along her figure.

One of these things just doesn't belong…

The stupid song from a children's show popped into his mind as he finished her analysis of his daughter. He flicked on the turn signal and waited.

"Why are you turning?" Tony asked, sounding slightly worried.

Good with directions. Impressive considering she'd only driven with him once.

"To the stores. We're going shopping."

She looked at him like he said they were going to the moon, "Why?"

"You're my daughter; you need to look the part."

"I'm NOT wearing some designer dress just to make you look good," Tony snapped.

Nolan sighed. "You don't have to wear dresses, although they will be required later since you'll be accompanying me to certain parties. You just take the style you currently have and modify it to fit the Hamptons."

Tony seemed slightly interested, "How?"

Nolan gestured to his own clothes, "I dressed like a hipster when I was your age. I still do. It's just more expensive and, excuse the term, 'high fashion'." He pointed to her top. "Nicer tank, silk maybe, any color you want. Designer jeans." He looked at her face to see her reaction to his next suggestion, "Heels?"

Tony rolled her eyes.

"OK, maybe not heels, but more expensive shoes than your beat up Chucks, although personally, I quite like them."

Tony actually smiled, "Thanks."

Nolan felt himself smiling back before he could catch himself. He thought that her smile was beautiful. She defiantly got it from Isabella.

Xxx

"I'm not coming out," Antoinette snapped behind the closed curtain.

"Don't be stupid," Nolan said. "I bet you look fine."

"I feel too exposed," she nearly whined. Nearly.

"Look if you don't let me see it out here I'll come in there."

He heard Tony growl as she ripped the curtain aside.

He hardly recognized her. Tony's cheap tank was replaced with an AK Anne Klein silver tank. It was flowy yet not too much so. It hugged her every curve. There was a slight shimmer worked into the fabric. Nolan looked at the jeans and found them to be just as nice. They were black Juicy Couture skinny jeans.

"Look at you," he said, smiling proudly.

Tony rubbed her arm. "I feel weird."

"Well you look," Nolan gave one last appraising glance. "good. Great even."

"But…" Nolan noticed his daughter looked nervous.

"What?" he asked.

"This stuff is almost as much as our rent…I mean the whole store is way more than my Mom could ever afford."

The blond man frowned. "I'm sorry Tony, but I promise, you won't have to worry about anything like that ever again."

Antoinette looked at him for a long while, then turned to look at the mirror. "This isn't too bad," she mumbled finally.

Nolan laughed, "Two items down, only an entire wardrobe to go."

Tony sighed, "Great."

Xxx

Three hours later, the pair emerged with all matter of bags.

"Don't you think this is too much?" The teen asked as they placed the bags in Nolan's boxy car.

"Of course not," Nolan shook his head as he turned the key in the ignition. "Trust me, this isn't nearly as much as those petty prima donnas buy in a week."

Tony buckled her seatbelt with a snap. "Where to now?"

"Home, you need to change into your new clothes. Plus we have to meet Emily."

Antoinette looked out the window. "Home," She muttered. "Sounds weird."

"It is your home now Tony, I want you to know that."

His daughter didn't say anything.

Xxx

"Tony! C'mon!" Nolan banged on the door to her new room. "We're going to be late!"

"Just gimmie a minute!" she yelled back.

"Jesus, girls," Nolan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, waiting for his bastard.

When she did come out, Nolan could not believe his eyes. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a clean, smooth ponytail, revealing her face. His (or, more accurately, his daughter's) eyes were looking back at him, but he was also drawn in by the timid look on his daughter's face. He finally inspected her wardrobe and found himself surprised. She was wearing a Just Cavalli tank with a red thumbprint design. On her legs was a pair of short but not too, too short 7 For All Mankind black shorts with a quarter inch cuff on the bottom. Her sandals were a pair of black Sperry Top-Sider's. In total, her outfit was worth $358…pocket change to Nolan Ross.

"Well, well, well, color me impressed," he said.

Antoinette lifted her foot and tugged on the back strap of her sandal. "These feel weird."

"Well that's because you're used to sneakers. You'll get used to them. Now come on, Emily's waiting."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to keep her waiting," Antoinette murmured.

Nolan decided to ignore her comment and descended the stairs, his prodigal daughter trailing behind.

Xxx

"Nolan, this better not be a waste of time," was Emily's greeting as she opened the door.

"You're the one who wanted to meet her Ems. I did nothing except authenticate my spawn."

"Is that how I'm referred to now?" Tony asked with an annoyed tone.

Emily glanced over the girl then offered her hand, "Emily Thorne."

"Antoinette Mason," Nolan was actually surprised by how well-mannered her introduction was. "But please call me Tony."

"Mason?" Emily turned toward Nolan.

"Yeah, her Mom was someone I went to high school with. "

"And you just learned about her now?"
"My mom," Tony cut in. "Didn't want to mess Nolan up and cause scandal while he was trying to start his business. For some strange reason, she cared about him."

Emily smiled. "Is that so?" Her question wasn't patronizing however, but amusement at Tony's fire was prevalent.

Nolan shrugged, "They dig me. Not my fault."

"Does your mother know you're here? She must be worried," Nolan thought he actually heard real caring in her tone. He knew Amanda lost her mother young.

"My mother's dead," Tony replied bluntly.

"I'm so sorry," Emily replied.

Tony shrugged, then plopped onto her couch. "From what I've read, you lost your Mom when you were little, and your Dad when you were eight."

Emily suddenly stiffened, "And where did you find that Tony?" He voice was suddenly cold and harsh.

Tony shrugged again, "Supposedly closed juvenile records, government files, trial files, personal records kept by therapists and shrinks who observed you over the years. It was quite interesting, but I could never get the full picture of little Amanda Clark. Oh, and you do know that the old Emily Throne/new Amanda Clark is a stripper now right?"

"No, I wasn't aware. And how did you get into all those?"

Tony braced her head against the back of the couch and turned to look at Emily. She gave a wan smile. "Nolan Ross is my father."

The blond man laughed, but Emily did not look amused.

Xxx

"I want to keep this quiet for a little while," Nolan said as he and Tony left an hour later.

"Whatever you say Nolan," Emily responded. Her eyes traveled to the teen girl, who was standing on the shore, sandals in hand, letting her feet get wet in the freezing water. This girl was going to serve a purpose, for what, Emily didn't know yet, but she would.

"Bye Ems."

"Goodbye Nolan."

The blond turned and walked toward his kid.

…

While her father was saying goodbye, Tony was letting the cold water rush over her legs. She smiled as memories of beach outing with her mother pranced through her mind. She wished she could regain those days, but she couldn't. They were gone forever, along with her mother.

"Tony," Nolan's voice brought her out of her reverie.

She turned her head to look behind her. "Hm?"

"Do you want to stay?"

Antoinette turned back to the sea and pondered his question before nodding. "But you can go if you want."

She received no verbal reply, but suddenly, she heard light splashing behind her as Nolan Ross, multi-billionaire, techno wiz, her father, took off his shoes and walked to stand next to his bastard.

"I'll stay with you if you don't mind," he said with a smirk.

"It's a public beach," Tony returned with a smirk of her own, so much like his.

…

Emily Throne stood by her window and watched the odd little family. She thought of her own memories with her father. Tony definitely reminded her of herself at her age, less angry sure, but alike nonetheless. She had been surprised when Nolan had taken off his designer shoes and bore the freezing water to stand next to Tony. The scene almost warmed her heart.

Almost.

Emily turned away and walked toward her phone. Tony could begin to serve her purpose soon enough.

…

Tony inhaled the cool air and smiled.

"Antoinette, there's something I want to make clear," Nolan began, waiting for her to acknowledge his words.

"What is it Nolan?" she asked.

"Today has been nice, but I can't say I trust you yet."

"Likewise."

"I want to be able to trust you, but that won't happen easily or quickly. We need to get to know each other first. I tend to be distrustful of others because when they look at me…" Nolan trailed off, afraid to voice his fear.

"All they see is your money. They zero in on that one thing you have that they want for themselves and try to get to you to like them for their benefit."

"So until we trust each other, you're on…a trial run," the blond was surprised she understood the feeling he had so well.

"I'll try not to screw up," she promised in a sincere tone.

"You can't tell people I'm your father," he added.

"OK."

"You can't go anywhere outside the house without me."

"Fine."

"You have to do as I say."

Tony smiled and turned to look at him. "Nolan, I'm a teenager, but I'll try my damnedest."

"Don't swear so much," he added.

She turned back to the ocean with a grin, "I'll work on that."

Nolan laughed.

They stared at the glittering water for another minute before Tony spoke.

"All rivers, even the most dazzling, those that catch the sun in their course, all rivers go down to the ocean and drown. And life awaits man as the sea awaits the river," she whispered.

"Jeez, that's depressing," Nolan replied. "Where's it from?"

The dark haired girl shrugged. "Dunno, but Simone Schwarz-Bart said it."

"Who?"

"She's a writer."

Nolan wondered what other surprising things he would learn about his spawn. If she could hack like he could, and remember quotes besides, what else could she do?

Of course, he was avoiding the true question, one that was not about Tony herself.

Could he be a Dad? A father? Could he do all the things a father was supposed to do? Could he give advice? Be super-protective? Teach her things she needed to know? Could she drive? Did Tony make friends easily? Nolan knew he was in for one hell of a ride, and he knew he couldn't get off.

Worst of all, he wasn't sure he wanted to.