Page 28 of Valentine's Kisses
Seeing that Odessa won’t be leaving, the secretary heaves a heavy sigh and closes the door.Odessa comes to sit beside me. Almost taking my hand, then unsure if she should place it back in her lap. “Hunter I can only imagine what you think about us but know that you have always been in our hearts. My hands were tied, but now that your bastard of a father is headed to jail, we can start this process of healing. We want to help you. I don't expect you to take my word for it, but as soon as your lawyer comes in, we're going to have a nice chat with her. Don’t worry, she’s going to pay handsomely for all the information that she's hidden from you all these years.”
At the annoyance of Veronica's secretary, once again, a tallish man with red hair comes through the door. “Hunter, meet your cousin Alfie. He’s one of our families’ lawyers and after today he'll be yours as well.
Alfie tips his head in an upward motion. Ice cold shock runs through my body. I know who this lady is. I've Googled her more than once, but how do I know she's telling me the truth. My dad's an asshole but would he have gone through so many links to keep me away from the Claybourne family. Where’s the evidence?
Listen, thank you for coming, I'm in a jam here. Not sure what else I should say."
She nods. "Just say what's on your mind. Rip it off like a Band-Aid kid."
So, I do. "You missed out on almost two decades of my life. Why now?"
She gives me a sheepish smile. "Hunter, it was out of our hands. My daughter really wanted to be here today, but I made her stay back. You need time. Even she gets that." She reaches her hand out to Alfie. Taking a thick Manila envelope out of his briefcase, he hands it to her. In turn she hands it to me.
"Unlawfully, I've recorded every conversation your father has ever had. We've printed out manuscripts, jump drives with audio and visual recordings. This is only a small batch of what we’ve uncovered. It’s all the evidence you'll need to make your decision and choose us. I'm sorry it's taking me so many years. I can't take back the hell he's put you through, but the asshole finally got sloppy." Odessa takes my hand in hers; I try not to react. It's weird but not unpleasant."Please, agree to coming home with me. I have a Savannah residence. It's not lost on me that you're halfway in love with my dear, Lynx. I'll do everything in my power to make it happen, as she feels the same about you. I won’t sugarcoat anything from you. Your dad was in deep withthe Irish mafia, they haven't figured out my part in having him arrested yet, but they will. The only way I can protect you, and all of my grandchildren, is to keep you close. I've hired some mercenaries to watch over each of you. As well as having to agree to things I normally wouldn't, but you being brought back into the folds of this family was the most important thing to us. We’ll handle the consequences later.” She lays it all on the line.
If I want Lynx, which I do, then I have the head of the families blessing. "How will you help me get Lynx?"
She smiles, because she knows she has me caught in her web. "I can't be two places at once. I feel as though, you need a babysitter. Am I right?” She smiles grows. “Lynx has already been enrolled into Crestwood. All that's left is us telling her."
All is not forgiven, but I plan on keeping an open mind and going through the contents of the folder starting today. Returning her smile, I gently squeeze her hand. "I'm in."
"Alfie, leave the letter on Veronica's desk, will you? She needs to know that Hunter has a new lawyer." Taking the envelope out of his jacket pocket he does as he is told.
"When do you expect me?" I ask not exactly wanting our meeting to be cut short. I'm on the fence as to what I feel.
"Today, darling. Movers are at your place as we speak. Come be a dear and ride in the SUV with me. It's bulletproof and it'll make me feel better knowing you're safe." Okay, well, fuck. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
We walk out with her arm placed in mine. Bodyguards are covering us on all sides. What does my grandmother do for a living? Because I seriously doubt a fashion designer, although a famous one would warrant such an entourage.
Chapter 7
The Offer
July 2023
I've avoided my stepbrother like the plague, since our one naughty night in the gazebo. We've had three altercations since, but that's it. However, now Gran Odessa wants me to become his babysitter. Trusting myself around him is NOT a great idea. -Lynx
Lynx
I nervously make my way into the massive foyer of Claybourne-Gable House. Gran Odessa has been hiding something for weeks, it's now time for the big reveal. Last night her secretary emailed me, that my presence was requested at 3 PM sharp today. Heaven forbids any of us are late for a meeting with her. Gran Odessa is not usually so formal with family, so that's another big clue she's hiding something.
My favorite butler, Jacobson, takes my coat and purse from me. He's a grumpy old man with balding hair and a pristine mustache. I've grown affectionate toward his crabby attitude, finding the sly comments he makes hilarious. I've gotten in trouble more than once, laughing at the back and forth between him and my step-grandmother. I've had to listen to a fewlectures on how rude that is and that it's "simply not done." Which is stupid because I did it, but whatever, I said what I said.
"She's in her study, Miss McNeal." His gruff voice makes me smile.
"Thanks, Mr. Jacobson." He's learned to stop correcting me when I say, mister. When you're born a southerner, you get taught manners on how to be polite. I won't stop just because my dad married into billions. I have zero clue what Gran Odessa could want. All they sent me in the email last night was a date, time, and a note that said we needed to discuss my future in more detail. Whatever the hell that means, I'm a little scared to be honest. She can be super bossy. We love her though, so we mostly choose to ignore that fact.
When I cornered Liliane at lunch today, she lied to my face when I asked her about what this meeting was about. Her skin broke out in tiny red splotches, that's a tell-tell sign that's she's lying about something. She totally avoided all my other questions, too. Not five minutes later she screeched that she was headed to town for a massage. The coward. Although, I can't blame Liliane, Gran Odessa can be tough to cross.
My whole-body cringes as I recall my last conversation with Gran. She was horrified last week when I finally admitted to her what my plans for the future were. I've been accepted into the University of Georgia and that's exactly where I plan on going in August.Counting on my dad to go against whatever she's planning will amount to shit, because Grandmother Odessa has a way of making people consent to things. Me included I swear to everything holy that the woman is our very own little mafia boss. My gut says run while I still can, but that would amount to shit, too. She'd use her money to hunt me down, and I've only got like 25 bucks in my checking account anyways. All the money she's put aside for me in my other account has remained untouched. She likes me for whatever reason. Sometimes, I wish the feelingsremained unreciprocated, but she's wiggled her way into every facet of my heart. The old beautiful hag.
My feet reluctantly ascend the staircase to her study on the third floor. I stall at the top as her office window comes into view, in hopes that the butterflies in my belly will go away. However, they are being little bitches, so it doesn't work. I have no other choice but to sit down in a fancy chair awaiting my fate. Her secretary will formerly bring me in soon, as this isn't my first summons. Is this how all the insanely rich people handle their meetings with family members?
Before my father married Liliane, we lived in a tiny trailer that surrounded our Vidalia onion fields. Our house now sits on the same spot as our trailer once did. We weren't rich by any means, but not exactly poor either. My dad has always been frugal, and farming has always paid the bills even if it didn't leave room for lots of extra. We were happy back then, but something was missing. That missing piece was Liliane.
My mother died when I was seven while giving birth to my little brother, Davis. He was stillborn. Her fragile heart gave out on the delivery table shortly after. I'll never forget my father's face when he picked me up from our neighbor's house. He told me the news that they were in Heaven, and we held each other until there were no more tears. That day sucked balls.
Tapping my foot on the floor, a nervous habit I procured from my dad, I look around the waiting area. The walls are lined with famous paintings of Monet, which is Grans favorite artist. However, the picture across from me is the one that truly dominates this space. It's our family photo from last Christmas, but don't get it twisted, it still looks badass. Our family doesn't wear ugly Christmas sweaters, we wear black. It's meant to look intimidating. Gran admitted as much to me. Why a fashion designer turned businesswoman would want a family picture tobe that way beats me. She's always been a tad eccentric so I'm not going to question her motives.
