Chapter 25

Wes

I end the call to Hawthorne and let my head fall defeatedly backwards against the cushioned chair in my downstairs office.

That’s one issue handled.

Only a million more to go.

Hopefully, the others go as smoothly as or even smoother than retracting a lawsuit did.

Vibrations against my palm pull my attention to my cell, encouraging me to continue on my cape less crusade to correct my mistakes.

Right whichever wrongs possible.

Zaidee: Red or pink roses?

Zaidee: One dozen or two?

Zaidee: Card?

Zaidee: Delivery address for her?

Being uncertain of the answers to any of those questions prompts me to click on someone else’s message.

J.T.: You bought Pham and her entire team catered breakfast this morning for their continued diligence of doing damage control.

J.T.: She wants to release a statement on the brand’s behalf.

J.T.: She also wants me in front of a camera answering questions.

J.T.: Your company. Your call.

Increased indecision pushes me to check the last unopened text.

Evie: The media is releasing any and all the information they can dig up about Bryn and it’s not pretty. We need to make an official statement regarding your relationship before they paint the situation as something it’s not.

What is the situation?

Our relationship?

How do I phrase “she’s the woman I’m in love with but accused of betraying me for money” in a positive light?

Familiar knocking redirects my focus on the problems that are literally on my doorstep. Park peers his face around the blockade and questions, “May I come in, sir?”

One head gesture is all it takes to get him into the room where he immediately resumes talking.

“Miss Astrid’s claims that Clyde Ortiz – the individual she lied about assaulting her – has been the one selling false stories to the media regarding the day-to-day activities of the estate are confirmed.” Park folds his hands behind his back giving me a clear view of his holstered weapon. “He is indeed involved in a physical relationship with one Miss Emily Knowles and has been using it to extract information that he then periodically sells to the higher bidder.”

Great.

More lies.

More deception.

More rips on the page of trust.

“From the minor interrogation we conducted this morning, Knowles had no previous knowledge of his behavior and Ortiz was simply doing it to help provide for himself as he has been unable to find work since his dismal.”

Of course, it’s been a struggle.

You get fired from my estate; you’re basically blackballed.

“Knowles is stationed in interrogation room one and Ortiz is in three, both guarded by men awaiting your decision on how to proceed.”

“Give them to legal.” Lowering my hands to my lap is followed by an exasperated sigh, “Let them decide the best course of actions to keep them alive and quiet.”

“Roger that.”

“And Miss Astrid?”

“She’s waiting in interrogation room two.” Park doesn’t wait for me to actually ask my question before he answers it. “Mr. Baker and Ms. Winters are waiting in the hall to speak to you whenever you’re ready.”

“Send them in.”

He curtly nods, spins on his heels, and exits the room.

Less than a minute later, the two of them are cautiously strolling in, linked by the hands.

Lauren doesn’t even wait a moment to lovingly plant her palm on my cheek and coo, “ You look awful. ”

It’s impossible not to confess, “I feel awful.”

“As you should,” she sasses in return, sounding more like her daughter than my heart can handle. “The last few days have been rough.”

Lauren parks herself in the chair opposite of mine while Clark plants himself on the arm inspiring me to motion a finger in reference to their close proximity. “You are a couple then?”

“Yes,” Clark answers at the same time he extends an arm around the back of her seat. “For quite some time.”

“How long?”

“Years,” the man who has basically been a father to me admits.

“ Years?! ”

“Four and a half to be exact.” His grin is bashful. Damn near giddy. “There are days I can hardly believe it’s been that long.”

My mouth moves in total disbelief, yet no sound accompanies it.

Perhaps because I’m not sure what I should say.

“We’ve done our best to keep our relationship fairly private,” Lauren politely picks up. “Maintaining this household…this estate… you has always been our sole focus and top priority. And when things first began to progress past a working relationship, we agreed that that would not change. That if it did then what was between us would need to end.”

“ Why? ” leaves me in almost all air. “Why would you be willing to sacrifice your own happiness for…for…for mine?”

“Because we love you, Weston,” Clark retorts without hesitation. “Because that’s what…parents do for their children.” This time his shoulders sink in obvious discomfiture. “No, you are not… biologically my son, but I have had a direct hand in raising you your entire life. I’ve spent more time raising you than I did my own daughter, which is something her mother never lets me forget.”

“Which is how Penny got a job here, I’m assuming?”

He reluctantly nods. “Yes. Penelope is a very bright, but very… troubled young woman.”

Understatement.

“And I believe it to be my fault. I blame myself. I ration with the idea that had I been around more for her upbringing, she wouldn’t be the misguided person she’s become. She wouldn’t be someone who apparently can’t distinguish the difference between love and obsession. Dreams and delusions. She’d be less like her mother instead of more so.” Lauren delivers a loving pat to his leg. “Penelope had found herself in an unfortunate circumstance, so rather than simply throw money at the situation – something I had done her entire life – I offered her an opportunity. I agreed to cover the cost; however, she had to come work off the debt here. Under my supervision.” He sucks in a deeper breath. “I truly believed it would be a clean slate of sorts. A chance to start over. Make new connections. Perhaps learn a trade. Allow us to build a relationship we were never properly able to when she was a child.”

“We didn’t want special treatment extended to Penny simply because she was Clark’s daughter, so we filled out all of her paperwork as Penny Astrid – her middle name – and took care of her background to match the change.”

“You lied.”

“I pulled a few strings,” Clark casually admits. “Reinvented her to ensure that clean slate.”

“You hired a real-life Poison Ivy to work at the estate.”

“I had the woman I hope marries me someday hire a lost, little girl that needed her father who couldn’t fathom leaving one child ,” he motions a hand at me, “for the other.”

It’s impossible not to sink further into my seat.

The truth is he’s committed no crime.

And neither has Lauren.

Doing what you believe is right for someone you love isn’t something I should punish either of them for.

Clark’s right.

He has been a father to me for my entire life and Lauren has been a motherly voice whenever the voice I remember starts to fade. These two people – like J.T. – are to thank for my existence.

For making it this far.

For having a present.

A future.

Yet Brynley is the one to thank for teaching me to live in the present.

And being able to envision a future.

Penny took that away from me.

She also took Lauren away.

For those choices she has to be punished.

She will be punished.

“I cannot let Penny get away with all the damage she’s caused to this estate. To my company. To me. ” Tossing my cell on the nearby end table precedes a heavy, dark exhale. “ I. Won’t. ”

“I understand,” Clark rushes to agree, fear flickering unarguably in his complexion, “but I am begging you to show her mercy, Weston.” Tears touch the rims of his lids. “I don’t want to have to bury my daughter because I failed her… again. ”

“You didn’t fail her,” Lauren sweetly insists, summoning his attention. “You did what you could. And even now, you’re still doing what you can.” Their eyes lock and I have to stomp down the knot of sadness in my throat. “That’s what real parents do.”

“You don’t hate her for what she did to you?” Bewilderment waltzes through my tone, “For what she believed she was doing on Clark’s behalf?”

“No. I hate her for what she’s done to you .” There’s a sympathetic smile. “ And Bryn. ”

I can’t stop myself from flying to the end of my seat when I hear her name. “Is she okay?” Anxiousness has my gaze desperately searching hers for extra answers. “Is she gonna be okay?” Pain pierces my mixed colored glare. “Is she gonna hate me forever? For the things I said? The pain I caused you both?”

“She hates Seinfeld and bubble gum flavored ice cream.” Lauren’s smirk is sweeter than I deserve. “ Not you. ”

Longing to believe her…to believe I haven’t lost the only person I can see myself spending my life with leads me to whisper, “ Does she still love me? ”

Her head tilts affectionally to one side at the same time she states, “I think that’s something you’re going to have to ask her yourself.”