Second Chances by Leigh Brown, Victoria Corliss

Shrugging, she pointed towards the waiting area.
    He turned to look at the only other person in the room, a man neatly dressed in khakis and a plaid button down shirt. Casually flipping through the pages of a magazine he seemed relaxed despite his left leg bouncing up and down like a jack hammer. It was hard to get a good look at his downturned face, but he didn’t look familiar. “What’s his name?” he asked the receptionist.
    “Levendakis. Do you know him?”
    Shaking his head, “I don’t think so but I guess I’ll find out,” and he walked over to the magazine-reading, leg-tapping man. “Mr. Levendakis?”
    Hearing his name, George’s head snapped back so he was face-to-face with Timothy Smith. He stared hard not wanting to look away from his son. His son! Who was looking back at him, curious but guarded, with his mother’s beautiful brown eyes. Grabbing his extended hand like a lifeline, George moved in for a closer look. The dark, wavy hair, the muscular build, the confident set of his shoulders; it was him twenty years ago. Almost. Unlike him, this young man emanated a cool reserve that warned ‘don’t get too close’ instantly squelching George’s impulse to wrap him in a fierce bear hug.
    “Yes, that’s me. And you’re Timothy Smith?” Obviously.
    “Call me Tim,” he said creating a little space between them. Levendakis was staring at him like a big, juicy steak. “How can I help you?”
    “I’d like to talk to you if you have a minute,” George answered looking skeptically around the lobby. “Somewhere a little more private maybe?”
    A small frown formed between Tim’s eyes as he considered George’s request reminding him of Pashmina weighing her options before making a decision.
    “Sure.” Tim offered at last. “We can talk in my office. This way.” He turned leaving George to follow, his heart pounding, mind racing. All the times he’d imagined this moment, he’d never gotten past this point. What did he do now?
    In Tim’s office, he offered George a seat then sat himself keeping the large, wooden desk between them. “So,” he started, “are you looking for an advertising agency Mr. Levendakis?”
    “Not exactly.” George’s palms were damp with sweat his mouth was dry as a bone. “I’ve actually been looking for you.”
    Keeping his face carefully blank Tim studied the man more intently. Who was this guy? He shook his head confused, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
    Just three little words and both their lives would be changed forever. George was tongue-tied. And terrified. Hiding from his past seemed like a piece of cake compared to confronting his future. Did he really want this? Could he handle being a father now, after all this time? Most guys had a chance to grow with their kids but Tim was no kid. He was an adult, a grown man and George knew absolutely nothing about him.
    Walk away. That’s what he should do before he screwed everything up. Like hell. He’d come too far to leave now. “There’s no delicate way to say this so I’m just going to say it: Tim, I’m your father.”
    There it was. With a sigh of relief, he glanced anxiously at his son, still expressionless and silent. He seemed to be taking it well. Or maybe not. A burst of hysterical laughter suddenly filled the room.
    “Good one,” Tim applauded. “So, where’s the camera?” Still laughing he searched his desk, looking inside his coffee mug and under the calendar blotter. Giving up he looked at George. “And what talent agency are you from? I’ll admit there’s a good resemblance. Thanks for giving me an idea of what I’ll look like in another twenty years or so.”
    Bemused, George could barely answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “My farewell video, you know, good-bye, good luck in the new job. That’s what this is right?” Thank God, cause he was starting to get a little creeped out by this guy.
    Listening to Tim, he understood. His son was leaving