Chapter 4
I had never felt more alone than I did at that moment. Even when I’d faced Nina and Levi at the café, I’d known backup was merely a shout away. But here, in this town so far from home, there was nowhere to hide and no one to help me.
I took a breath and reminded myself I was doing this for my mom.
She wanted me to know where I came from, so here I was filling in the blank space on my family tree.
If it didn’t go well, I never had to see the man again.
The thought relaxed me somewhat, and I managed to clamp down my nerves and pull my shoulders back.
I pushed away the fleeting doubts that had been fluttering in my stomach and entered the room.
Like the rest of the mansion, Matthew’s office was obscenely large and extravagant.
The walls on either side of me were lined with heaving bookcases that stretched up to the high ceiling above.
They drew the eye toward large bay windows on the opposite wall that overlooked the perfect gardens beyond.
The room smelled of leather and books, and the only sound was the soft scrape of my Converse as I walked toward the mahogany desk that stood proudly in front of the vast window.
A man was standing in front of it waiting for me, but it was only when I stopped a few meters from him that I finally allowed myself to lift my gaze.
As our eyes met for the first time, my father’s widened slightly with apparent surprise.
He stared at me for a moment, seemingly frozen in place, but with the next blink of his eyes, the shock vanished, and his expression turned stony as he proceeded to look me over.
I felt a little like a horse up for auction as he took in every detail of me.
His lips twitched with the barest hint of disapproval as he eyed my beaten-up sneakers, and he frowned when he saw the coffee stain on my shirt.
I got the distinct impression he was thoroughly unimpressed by me, but Matthew LaFleur was hardly the man I’d expected to meet either, and I was scrutinizing him just as much as he was me.
Matthew was definitely handsome for a guy his age.
He had striking blue eyes and angular cheekbones with stubble across his jaw that was perfectly trimmed.
His most striking feature was probably his thick head of salt-and-pepper hair, which didn’t have a strand out of place.
There also wasn’t a single crinkle in his expensive suit.
He was far too polished for my liking. From the shine on his shoes to the controlled expression on his face, it was clear he’d spent years buffing out all of his flaws and held himself with the rigid arrogance of a man who always got what he wanted.
He reminded me of the statues I’d passed out in the corridor. Carefully crafted and proudly displayed with a permanent, planned expression etched on to a cold, stone surface.
My hands twisted as I clasped them behind my back, and I tipped my chin up as I met his stare.
I felt like nothing more than a speck of dirt to this man.
A grimy smear across his polished marble floors that he wanted swept away.
I refused to cower before him though. I hadn’t needed a father in seventeen years, and I didn’t need one now—no matter what my mother might think.
Staring at this stranger, I only wished she hadn’t suddenly changed her mind about us meeting.
What was she thinking, sending me here?
“Hello, Isobel,” Matthew finally said in greeting. They were the first words I’d heard from the man, and they held a complete lack of emotion. He had a British accent that was every bit as haughty as his expression. Mom’s Downton Abbey obsession was suddenly making a whole lot of sense.
I hesitated for a moment as I wondered how to respond. What did I call this man? Dad? Father? Matthew? Matty? In my mind, I’d always thought of him as that jerk who abandoned my mom, but that was a bit of a mouthful to say aloud, and I doubted it would be well received.
“Mr. LaFleur.” I finally found my voice and settled on something formal. He seemed like the type who would balk if I tried to call him daddy.
“You look like her,” he said as he continued to study me. “Candice, that is.”
He hadn’t said that I looked like my mother in the endearing way most people gushed over our similarity.
It was more a statement of fact. He could have been speaking about something as bland as the weather.
I didn’t miss how his eyes flickered to my untamed hair as he spoke my mother’s name.
My unruly curls were exactly like Mom’s, and I was sure he was currently wondering if I even owned a hairbrush.
His gaze continued to assess me, and while his face didn’t give much away, I could tell he disliked every part of the girl standing in front of him.
From my ratty sneakers to the collection of bangles jingling around my wrist, I was everything he didn’t want in a child.
When his scrutiny returned to my face, I was almost worried about what he’d say next.
“But you have my eyes.”
I wasn’t expecting that. He was right though.
My eyes were a similar hue of blue to his.
I wished he hadn’t brought it to my attention.
I might have only just met my father, but I already knew I wanted nothing from this man, especially not something as permanent as the eyes I saw in the mirror each day.
My father’s eyes were an icy shade of blue as cold and hostile as the rest of his demeanor.
Why couldn’t I have been born with green eyes like my mom?
He looked me over one last time before he turned and walked behind his desk.
He lowered himself into his chair and crossed one leg over the other with a gracefulness I most certainly hadn’t inherited.
I remained where I was standing, unsure what he expected from me.
He’d arranged this meeting, and yet he was acting as though it were just another item on his daily agenda.
It’s not like I wanted to be here, and the only reason I’d agreed to come was because my mom insisted. I would have given anything to have her here with me now. I couldn’t begrudge her for her absence though. Not when she had the café to run.
“Please, take a seat,” he said, gesturing to one of the free chairs across from him. “I trust your journey here was smooth.”
Matthew clearly couldn’t feel the kink in my neck or smell the coffee stain on my shirt. My legs were still cramping from being tucked under me as I’d slept on the bus last night. I was hardly going to alert him to those facts though.
“It was fine,” I replied. “Long, but fine.”
He nodded. “I did offer to fly both your mother and you up here, but your mother insisted against it.”
This was news to me, but it sounded just like Mom. Her pride would never have allowed it, and now I’d met Matthew, I could understand why she’d be hesitant to accept anything from him—I didn’t want to owe this man anything either.
“I’m glad that Candice finally came around and allowed us to meet,” he continued. “Clearly, I’ve missed a lot of your upbringing.”
“Clearly,” I muttered. I didn’t miss how Matthew made it sound like Mom was the reason he’d been absent all these years. He was probably used to spinning the truth in his favor like that. You didn’t get as rich as him without throwing a few people under a few buses.
“I’d like to remedy that.”
It took me a moment to realize what he’d said, and I struggled to contain my surprise. He looked like a man who didn’t want anything to do with me, let alone a father who wanted to become involved in my life.
“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“You are my only child, my legacy in this world. Why wouldn’t I wish to know you?”
I could think of plenty of reasons, the main one being that he’d had years to get to know me but had chosen not to. Not to mention that the man hardly appeared paternal and clearly disapproved of me. But, I didn’t say any of those things out loud.
“I certainly hope we are able to make up for lost time,” he continued. “There’s a lot we have to learn about each other.”
“Okay.”
I didn’t know what else to say, but Matthew nodded as though my vague acknowledgement of his comments meant I was completely on board.
I felt nothing of the sort though. I still wasn’t any more interested in making up for lost time with Matthew than I was when I’d gotten on the bus back in Rapid Bay.
“As your father, and under current circumstances, I am also able to provide you with certain opportunities your mother cannot.”
My eyes narrowed. Was this man seriously judging my mom’s ability to provide for me? She’d been caring for me for seventeen years—unlike some people.
“However, if you are to take advantage of those opportunities, it will require … a little refinement.” His gaze had again fallen to the coffee-stained outfit I was wearing. “There are many opportunities that will come with being a LaFleur but also expectations.”
A snort accidently escaped me. As suspected, this rich stranger didn’t think I was good enough to be associated with him.
“Look, I’m not sure what you expect of me, but I’ve got no expectations for you.
I don’t need you to provide anything for me.
I have everything I’ve ever wanted back home with my mom.
And just because you knocked her up seventeen years ago doesn’t mean I’m a LaFleur. ”
If my crass response bothered him, he didn’t show it. “You have my blood running through your veins,” he replied, calm as anything. “You are a LaFleur, whether you like it or not. And though our surnames may be different, you have inherited all that comes with being a part of this family.”