Christian sat on his king-sized bed flipping through his little black book for the name, Danielle Fuller. At the same time, trying to ignore the sinfulness he felt in his heart. There was no need for him to have been as harsh as he was to Amy, but how was he to know exactly who she was? He couldn't possibly have a daughter. Could he? His defenses were working overtime. It was the only way to protect himself from feeling the anguish he had felt with Wilbur. He was in no position to accept this illusion until he had all the facts straight. Sure, she had waltzed into his office with a birth certificate, but if she was telling the truth, how come he didn't remember signing it? It didn't make any sense to him. He vaguely recalled who this Danielle Fuller woman was. He could see her face when he had laid eyes on Amy. As far as he could remember, she must have been a girl he met back in high school. His memory wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either. There was only one thing to do. Find this woman and get to the bottom of this once and for all.

He just prayed she hadn't moved out of Florida. His brows furrowed in thought, suddenly realizing that he had no record of her in his black book. Why hadn't he gotten her number? Was it possible that he had thrown it out a long time ago? Suddenly, it occured to him. He hadn't started keeping his little black book until college. "Shit!" He cursed at himself, hurling the book at the floor. There was only one other way to get a hold of her. He'd simply call 4-1-1 and request her number. Grabbing his cordless phone from beside his bed, he dialed for information and a minute later, he was being put through to her residence. He swallowed the lump in his throat, mercifully attempting to come up with a game plan about how to approach her on this.

It rang twice before an unfamiliar female answered, rather breathlessly. "Hello?"

He was a bit taken by her voice, wondering what on earth she could have been doing just before she picked up the phone. "Yes, this is Christian Troy. Can I speak to Danielle Fuller?"

"This is she. Wait a minute...Christian Troy? Reckless, arrogant, and self-centered Christian Troy?"

It wasn't unexpected that he hadn't recognized her voice when she answered. He imagined she had gone and grown up just as he did. She had to at least be around his age by now. "I haven't changed sweetheart. Well, maybe a little since I've recently come to realize that I HAVE A DAUGHTER!"

There was silence from Danielle's end.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered a moment later.

He pushed himself up to his feet and began pacing at the foot of his bed. "Oh don't play dumb with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

She sighed wearily. "I don't understand. How did you find out!"

"The girl showed up at my office today! I never would have made the connection to you, but there were two reasons why I did. For one, she bared a combined resemblance to both you and I, and two, she had a God damn birth certificate. A birth certificate that I don't even remember signing! Now that I think about it, I can't even remember screwing you."

"Well excuse me, Christian. It's not my fault that you were so self-absorbed and lost in your many conquests to remember. You knocked me up over Spring Break! Do you remember that? You and those delinquents you called your friends invited me to a party. A beach house party. A little game of Truth or Dare lead to a dark broom closet where you proceeded to impregnate me. Of course you were probably far too drunk to remember."

He stopped pacing when he heard the words "Spring Break." Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him. At least, enough of what he could recall before he had become intoxicated. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Jesus." He brought one of his hands to his forehead, a migraine beginning to take form. "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe I was too busy trying to graduate high school, unlike some people I know. Did you honestly think that I was going to come out and tell you? I never saw you as a suitable and responsible father. There was no way you were corrupting my daughter with your reckless, sex-crazed ways. I didn't have the time to raise her on my own. For God's sakes, I was only seventeen years old. I never even wanted a baby until I was married! I've heard too many stories about underage teens getting pregnant. I never realized I would become one, and it's all thanks to you."

His heart constricted in his chest as his emotions began rising to the surface. He started to say something but she didn't give him the chance.

"Why didn't I get an abortion? That's what you're going to ask me, aren't you? Well Christian, my mother was a very religious woman. She would not let me kill my own child. Therefore, I was forced to go through my senior year looking like a pot bellied pig. Not that you even noticed. You probably figured I'd sat at home the whole summer stuffing my face, only to gain an extra fifty pounds."

He wavered on his heels, gradually moving to sit at the edge of his bed. Another lump formed in his throat as his heart pounded in his chest. Suddenly, the chance of Amy being his daughter increased from fifty percent to ninety percent. He exhaled sharply, pushing the lump down in his throat before speaking. "Jesus!" He pursed his lips as the tears began welling up in his eyes. He took a breath to calm himself before he put his defenses up. "How do you explain my signature on the birth certificate? If I was never there when you gave birth, how did my God damn signature magically appear on the line of the father? Did you forge it yourself?"

"There's a very logical explaination for that, Christian Troy. Let's go back to when you screwed me in that broom closet. You were drunk off your ass then, weren't you? Well, I used that knowledge to my own benefit and waited until you got wasted again. It was the only way to get your signature on the line of the father, and the only way that you would never remember signing it. I made up some odd-ball story that apparently, you were stupid enough to buy. One month after the baby was born, I immediately put her up for adoption. Now that I think about it, I might have been better off getting a surrogate mother. At least that way, I might have been able to visit my daughter from time to time."

He sat there listening intently, his astoundment and sorrow growing the more he heard. He felt much like a feeble child. This load had been dropped on him before by Gina, but this woman was almost like a clone of Gina. She had definitely changed from the Danielle he knew back in high school. It frustrated him to think that only a couple days ago, he had discovered that Wilbur's father had left the city and taken the only thing he had ever loved with him. Was he going to get a second chance at being a father? Was he going to finally have a family of his own? It was terrifying and heartwarming at the same time. The DNA test might not have seemed so relevant at this point, but being a plastic surgeon, he trusted medical science more than he did this woman's words. If it was between her word and the true results of DNA, he was going to put his faith in the latter.

"Now, does that answer all your questions?" Danielle asked bluntly.

"What am I suppose to do? Do you honestly think I can take care of her myself?"

"I never said you had to take care of her. I'm sure she already has a family of her own. The last time I checked with social services, she had already been given a home. There's no need for you to take care of her. Whatever family she has now will do that just fine. You could either send her away or you could deal with her yourself. If I were this girl, one father would be one too many."

He sighed deeply. "You don't even want to see her? Sooner or later, she's going to ask where her mother is. She wouldn't have gone to so much trouble to find out who her parents were, only to meet her father."

"I wish I could, Christian, but I'm rarely at home. I'm a married woman now, and on top of that, I have a high demanding job. I'm lucky if I get three hours out of the day for myself. I would love to see her, I really would. If I had the time, it might be a possibility...but sadly I don't. You could give her my number at work and I might be able to talk to her, but I can't make any promises."

"She's your child too! You think that I don't have a high demanding job myself? If she's really my daughter, I'll make the time to see her. You at least owe her that, don't you think?"

"Listen slick, I've worked too hard to get to where I am today, no thanks to you. I was lucky enough to graduate high school after carrying a baby. I can't afford to screw things up now. If my husband were to find out about her, I could lose everything."

"What kind of a mother are you? Are you going to give the same negligence to your own children?"

"Well, I'll deal with that when the time arises. You think that you can do any better? For all I know, you're still the sex-crazed, arrogant bastard I knew back in high school. Tell me Christian. Just how many women have you slept with since you knocked me up?"

"Enough to know that you couldn't measure up to half of them. This girl would be better off with me than she would with you. She's not a toy, Danielle! You can't pick her up and play with her when you damn well please then throw her out when you get bored. It doesn't work that way!"

"Then what do you expect me to do Christian? Huh? Do you expect me to throw everything away for her? What do you want from me? Look, I did my part in raising her for the first month that she was born. My job is done. Now you could sit there and lecture me about my pathetic mediocre life, because God knows I don't hear enough about it from my family, or you could go about this on your own. You're a big boy now. You don't need a maternal figure in your life."

"Listen you crazy bitch, I'm well past this bull shit. If you don't want to take responsibility for your own child then I pity the next man who tries to knock you up. You can screw your own kid up, but you're not screwing up this one. I'm getting a DNA test run tomorrow, and if this girl truly is my daughter, I'm keeping her far away from you. I don't have to prove to you or anyone else that I'll be a good father. It's more than you can say for yourself. Consider us divorced."

"We were never married asshole."

He scoffed. "Thank God for that." Before she could say anymore, he hung up on her and tossed his cordless phone aside.

A weary sigh escaped him as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. He sat there for a long moment, taking everything in. It still wasn't proven that he was this girl's father...at least not by medical science. He had had his doubts before, but right now, he was feeling more than overwhelmed by the responsibility of being a father again. Could he do it? There was only one way to find out. Sure, he had practice, but this time, he might be in it for the long haul. He didn't put it past him that she might already have a family. It was obvious. If he had to accept the role as an absent uncle, he'd take what he could get.

Ever since she had walked into his office, he had a feeling about her. There was a bit of sorrow in her eyes and on her face, as if she were going through a rough patch in her life. He knew that it hadn't entirely been on account of him. It was almost as if he could read her. Something wasn't right. Could she possibly be unhappy with her current domestic affairs? Every family had it's problems, but if she was his daughter and dealing with something that he had dealt with growing up, he would make absolute certain she would never have to feel that pain ever again.

Pushing up to his feet, he crossed the room to slip on his suit jacket. He figured what he needed right now was a drink. Not a beer. He needed something stronger. A few scotches and he would be able to get his mind off of the situation before him. Grabbing his keys off of the end table near the door, he stepped out into the broad corridor of the apartment building, locking the door behind him. At least he didn't have surgery tomorrow morning. He could go down to the bar and drown out his sorrows with a helping of liquor. Perhaps he'd bring home another young woman and get out his aggression through another sexual act. Yep, a few drinks and another one night stand would remedy his restless and melancholy state. By tomorrow morning, he'd be ready to face the world...in any way shape or form.