Page 46 of Back in the Texan's Bed
“News like that travels fast, son,” Rusty said.
“I’msonnow?” Ross chuckled. “Since when? Let me guess. Three days ago.”
“You did the right thing, Ross.” Rusty nodded, mouth flattening into a grim line. “I hate that I had to take such drastic measures to make you see what a mistake you were making, but if the end result was you coming to your senses, then I’ll live with my actions. You deserve someone who adds to your wealth, social standing and reputation, not some faithless, disloyalcook,” he sneered. “Just tell me the situation has been handled and we can move on from here.”
Ross stared at Rusty, shocked by the venom that seemed directed at Charlotte. Yes, she’d been their employee, but she was also a successful, gifted chef. What the hell had she ever done to deserve Rusty’s enmity?
He slashed a hand through the air. Fuck it. His father took classism and snobbery to a whole new level, but he was through allowing his father to run his life like it was one of his subsidiaries.
“Is that what you assumed? That I left Charlotte because of you disinheriting me?” He shook his head, his bark of laughter drawing a fierce frown from his father. “Sorry, Dad, but I regret to inform you that I’m still as much of a disappointment as I was when I left your office. This has nothing to do with you. It was my choice because I was trying to do what was best for her. And Charlotte and Ben aren’t asituationto behandled,” he snapped. “He’s my son, and she’s the mother of my son. She and I aren’t living together—” weren’t togetherat all“—but I’m not abandoning my son. So your praise might’ve been a tad premature.”
Rusty slid off the edge of the table, standing to his full, intimidating height. Well, it used to be intimidating. Not any longer. Somewhere between watching Charlotte strip herself emotionally bare before walking away and leaving him broken, and checking into The Bellamy, his father’s approval and acceptance had stopped being the driving force in his life. There were only two people whose esteem mattered. One loved him unconditionally. And the other? Well, the other, he’d hurt so badly that there was no coming back from it.
“Ross, I don’t know what this is, but you need to get your shit together,” Rusty thundered. “You will not have any association with that woman or child. This is nonnegotiable.”
Ross studied his father as if it were the first time he was truly seeing him. “You want me to choose you over Charlotte, over my son. Which is so damn ironic because in every situation you never offered me the same courtesy. Business first. Women first. Yourself first. But never me, my happiness, my well-being. No,” he stated flatly, with a finality that resonated through him. “I won’t do it. Keep your money, your inheritance, your business empire. And if you’re stubborn enough to demand it, your title as my father. When my son looks at me with love and respect, knowing I’ll always be there for him, that’s worth more than anything you could possibly hold over my head. Goodbye, Dad.”
He turned and strode toward the door, the crushing weight of guilt, sadness and anger on his chest a little bit lighter.
“Don’t you walk away from me, Ross. We’re not finished here,” Rusty bellowed. Like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
“Yes, Dad, we are.”
He opened the door, stepped through and closed it behind him.
Closing it on his past.
Ross handed his car keys to The Bellamy’s valet and entered the hotel’s entrance. His cell phone jangled in his pocket, and like the last three times his sister had called since he’d left his confrontation with Rusty, he ignored it. He loved Gina, but right now his emotions huddled too close to the surface. They were too raw, and he couldn’t hold a conversation with her.
He strode across the lobby toward the elevators, but as he passed the sitting area, a woman rose from one of the chairs. Shock barreled into him, jerking him to a sudden halt.
No. Not today. All the anger, pain and sadness simmering inside him ratcheted to a boil and flowed over him, singing him with memories, bitterness and a little boy’s betrayal and love.
“Sarabeth.”
His mother’s smile wavered but then rallied. Probably all that beauty pageant training. Oh, how Rusty used to go on about that. How he’d found her on the pageant circuit and lifted her out of her lower-middle-class life to rarefied Royal society. And all he’d received in return was a coldhearted gold digger more concerned with what he could do for her, instead of the wife and mother he’d wanted.
Ross hadn’t cared about any of that at the time. At ten, all he’d wanted was his mother.
He studied the tall, willowy blonde as she approached him. Though nearing fifty years old, his mother appeared ten or fifteen years younger. All that free living without the baggage of children could do that to a person, he mused.
“Ross, I’m sorry to ambush you like this,” Sarabeth apologized, the blue eyes he’d inherited from her meeting his. She chuckled, and it struck him as nervous. Of course, cornering the son she hadn’t seen or talked to in years had to be stressful. “God, in some ways you look exactly the same. I would’ve recognized you anywhere.” When he didn’t reply to that, she shook her head, that smile finally fading. “I understand if you’d rather not see me, but if you could give me just a few minutes, I’d really appreciate it.”
He smothered his initial instinct to tell her no, and dipped his chin. Pivoting on his heel, he stalked toward The Silver Saddle, trusting her to follow. At two o’clock, most of the tables remained empty, a stark contrast to how it would be jumping with patrons in just three more hours. But for now, he snagged one in a corner that would afford them privacy.
Once they were seated and had placed their orders with their waitress—a beer for him and a white wine for her—she folded her slim hands on the table and gazed at him.
“I’m sorry for staring,” she apologized after an awkward silence. “It’s just that... It’s been a long time. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been in the same town, at the same address all this time,” he said brusquely. “If you missed me so much, you knew where to find me.”
“I deserve that,” she whispered, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s so much I want to say to you...” She cleared her throat, momentarily dropping her eyes to the table before lifting them to him. “Will you hear me out? Please? And at the end if you still want to walk out of here and have nothing to do with me, then I’ll understand.”
“Fine.” He leaned back in his chair as the waitress set their drinks on the table. Twisting the cap off his beer, he tipped it toward her. “I’m listening.”
“Thank you.” Her inhale of breath echoed between them, as did the long exhale. “I want to preface this by saying I’m not excusing my absence from your life. I just want to explain my side of it and hope that maybe you can forgive me.”
She sipped from her wineglass. For courage? Because that was the reason he gulped down his beer. To try to bolster the bravado to sit here and listen to his mother explain why he hadn’t been important enough for her to stay in his life.
