Page 43 of Back in the Texan's Bed
At least not physically.
Because for her heart, it was too little, too late.
Thirteen
Ross sat in his car in the same parking space that had been his since he’d officially started working for The Edmond Organization six years ago. He snorted. He might’ve been disinherited and fired, but at least his father hadn’t gotten around to reassigning his spot.
Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, he stared at the building that had been his home away from home. And now he had neither. He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
What the hell was he doing here?
What did he hope to accomplish with this visit?
Immediately, Ben’s face drifted across his mind’s eye. Before he’d dropped his son off at his grandparents’ house for an afternoon visit, Ben had wrapped his arms around his legs, beaming up at him. No hesitation. No uncertainty. His son was so secure and confident in his father’s love that he’d demanded, “Daddy, kiss bye!” without any fear of rejection. Certain he’d receive the affection that was his due.
Ross huffed out a soft chuckle, the sound somehow foreign to him in the silence of the car. As was the prickle of heat behind his rib cage. That free display of love had triggered a yearning in him—a yearning that had driven him here instead of his meeting with Billy. Ben deserved to know all of his family. Especially his grandfather. Maybe he and Rusty hadn’t enjoyed a loving relationship, but that didn’t mean Ross’s son couldn’t have that with Rusty.
Though it meant swallowing his pride, he had to try.
Not just for his son. But for himself, too.
Resolute, he climbed out the car and headed into the Edmond building. Security had every right to stop him and force him to sign in as a visitor. But the guard on duty only greeted him as Ross walked toward the elevators. Even the pass that only certain personnel possessed to access the executive floor worked. It hadn’t been deactivated, as he’d expected.
Frowning, but not questioning his luck—accepting it as fate—he emerged from the elevator onto the hushed floor housing his family’s offices. More than a few people did a double take as he strode toward his father’s assistant’s desk. But he ignored them, focusing instead on the task at hand. Because getting in to see his father without an appointment would be the hugest hurdle.
“Good afternoon, Lisa,” he said, smiling at the pretty blonde. “Does Dad have a few minutes available in his schedule for me?”
“Hi, Ross.” She offered him a smile in return, though curiosity gleamed in her brown eyes. No doubt wondering what business the disinherited heir could possibly have with his father. She tapped on her keyboard and glanced at her monitor. “He doesn’t have a meeting until two, so there’s about a half hour free, but—”
“Thanks.” He strode past the desk toward the closed double doors. “I’ll just go in. No need to announce me.”
“But—”
Inside he cringed as he gripped the knob and pushed the door open. That had been an asshole move worthy of a spoiled child, but if he’d allowed her to give Rusty a heads-up that his son wanted to see him, Ross would’ve spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on one of the couches in the waiting area.
Rusty could carry petty to a whole new level.
His father glanced up at the opening of the door, then scowled. “Ross, what are you doing here?”
Shutting the door behind him, he crossed the huge office, coming to a halt in front of Rusty’s desk. He didn’t bother taking a seat in one of the visitors’ chairs since he most likely wouldn’t be here long enough to become comfortable.
“I’m here to see you, Dad. We didn’t have a chance to talk Saturday night.”
Rusty snorted, tossing down his pen onto his desk. “Is that right? Could be because the rest of us were working while you were up that woman’s skirts.” His mouth curled into a hard, mocking smile. “Think no one noticed you two disappear? Or that before then, something was off between you? Christ, son, you looked like someone had shot your goddamn dog. Whether you’re fucking them or arguing with them, you shouldn’t let a woman interfere with business. And you failed on both accounts Saturday.”
Heat bloomed beneath his collar, and he slowly dragged in a breath.You’re here to heal the rift, not widen it. You can’t tell the old bastard to go to hell.
The reminder drifted through his head, and after several seconds he could inhale air that wasn’t singed by his anger.
“I’m not here to discuss Charlotte,” he said.
“What else is there to discuss?” Rusty snapped, slapping his palms to the desk and surging to his feet. “She’s at the root of all of this. First, she disrespected my employment and my home by sleeping with my son. Then, she gets pregnant, no doubt on purpose, and when I tell her to get rid of it, she lied about doing that. And then, she has the gall to show up here in Royal again, looking to hook you, an Edmond, with a kid that’s her responsibility, not yours, since she made the decision to keep it.”
“What kind of man would it make me if I denied my child, abandoned him? That wouldn’t make me any better than Sarabeth,” he countered.
“Don’t bring up that woman’s name to me. Your mother was another one who used her children for a big payday and then disappeared. And you can damn well bet that’s going to happen with Charlotte,” he fumed, jabbing a finger at Ross. “You think you have this happy little family? What happens when she realizes I’m serious about not giving you one red cent, Ross? Do you really believe she’s going to stick around? You’re being led around by your dick, and I’m not going to stand by and watch it happen. And when she leaves with that boy, I’ll be damned if you come crawling back to me.”
Each insult barreled into him, delivering strikes to every insecurity and doubt that hid in his subconscious. He was far from penniless, but even with the home he provided for her and Ben, Ross worried it wouldn’t be enough. Especially since last week, he’d gone over his finances with his accountant, and as he’d suspected and feared, though he possessed stocks, investments and property, he wouldn’t have enough liquid wealth to give her the five-hundred-thousand-dollar payment at the end of their year together. Once he told her the truth, would she pack up Ben and leave? After all, she’d held up her end of the bargain—leaving her home, moving in with him, completing the paperwork to change their son’s last name—and the one thing he’d promised her, he couldn’t come through on.
