Chapter 9
Claire
This was perfect. Attending the gala with Nick would allow me to talk to my brothers and get a feel for them before I sprang the news on what a manwhore Daddy Henry was.
My phone dinged, and when I looked at it, I saw a text from Raphael.
“Sorry to bother you so late, Claire. We found a ranch-style home online we fell in love with. We’re going to see it tomorrow morning but should be back for the appraiser by noon. We’re hoping the house is as nice in person.”
“That’s awesome, Raphael. Good luck, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I already knew what that house would appraise for and wasn’t worried. I grabbed my laptop, climbed into bed, pulled up Pinterest, and started looking for house inspo to take my mind off Nick and how my body still trembled from earlier events.
The following day, I met the appraiser at my soon-to-be new home.
“Thank you for coming out so quickly,” I told Tim.
“Not a problem, Claire.” He stared at the house from the sidewalk. “Shall we go inside and take a look?”
I knocked on the door, and Crystal answered with a smile. “Come in.”
She led me out on the patio while the appraiser looked around.
“Well, how was the house you looked at this morning?” I asked.
“It was perfect.” Crystal grinned. “It’s everything we want.”
“A few things need to be redone, but it’s no big deal.” Raphael smiled.
I stood there thinking about how they never did a thing to this home. The sliding door opened, and Tim called my name.
“Claire.” He gestured for me to step inside.
“Are you finished?” I asked.
“Listen, I know I don’t know you, but are you sure you want to buy this place?”
“Yes.” I breathed out a laugh. “It’s being totally gutted and remodeled.”
“Thank God. Here’s the appraisal.” He handed me a piece of paper.
Looking at it, I narrowed my eyes.
“This is more than I thought,” I said.
“It includes the piece of property next door.”
“Shit. I didn’t consider that. No big deal. Thanks, Tim.” I extended my hand.
“You’re welcome, Claire. Have a good day.”
I stepped onto the patio where Raphael and Crystal stood.
“Here is the appraisal.” I handed Raphael the slip of paper.
“Damn. This is more than we thought,” he said.
“It includes the property next door.” I smiled.
“Raphael, this is wonderful. Not only can we redo a few things in the new house, but we can buy all new furniture without tapping into our savings,” Crystal spoke excitedly.
“I’ll call the other realtor now and tell her we want that house. How soon can we close this deal? The house we want is already vacant,” Raphael spoke.
“As soon as possible.” I smiled. “I’ll call my attorney and get the paperwork ready to be signed so we can get this deal done.”
Iwent to the mall to try and find a formal dress for the fundraising gala Nick was taking me to. As I was in the women’s section at Nordstrom, I spotted Barb thumbing through the racks.
“Hello again.” I smiled, walking over to her.
She stared at me for a moment. “You were in the bakery the other day,” she said.
“Yes, I was. You thought I was staring at you.”
“That’s right. Hello again.”
“Can I be honest with you about something?” I asked.
“If I say no, you’ll say what you have to say anyway, right?” Her brow arched.
“Yes, I will.” I smiled. “You don’t seem like the type of woman who would work behind a bakery counter. You seem a little more high-class than that.”
“You’re very observant. I’m helping out my nephew. His wife owns the bakery. I do what I can to help my family.”
“And to protect them at all cost?” My brow arched.
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Who are you? I get the feeling you have something else to say to me. I felt it the moment I saw you in Baked With Love.”
“My name is Claire, and we need to talk, Barb.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I just do.”
“Just say what you have to say right here,” she spoke sternly.
“No. I have a dress to shop for. Let’s meet tonight for dinner at Catch L.A. at six o’clock. I’ll make the reservation.”
She glared at me, and I could see her jaw tense. “Fine. I’ll be there.” She turned and walked away.
“You’re going to want to hear what I have to say, so don’t change your mind about showing up,” I shouted.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and booked a table for two at Catch L.A. Just as I finished, Nick texted me.
“Dinner tonight? I get off at eight.”
“I can’t. I’m having dinner with a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends here yet.”
“She’s an old friend I looked up. I didn’t realize she lived in Los Angeles. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“I work tomorrow night. Gotta run. An emergency is coming in. Enjoy dinner with your friend tonight.”
“Thanks, Nick.”
I sighed as I placed my phone in my purse and continued searching for the perfect evening gown.
When I arrived at the restaurant, Barb was already seated with a drink in her hand.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic in this city is a bitch.” I sighed as I sat across from her.
“I take it you’re not from here?” Her brow arched.
“No. I’m not.”
“Good evening, miss. What may I start you with to drink?” the server asked.
“Scotch. Make it a double.” I smiled as I picked up my menu.
“You don’t look like a scotch kind of girl,” Barb said.
“And what type of drink girl do I look like?” I stared at the menu.
“Fruity cocktails.”
“I like those too.” I smiled.
The server walked over, set my scotch down, and took our dinner order.
“Well, spit it out, Claire. I don’t have all night,” Barb blurted out. “Who the hell are you, and how do you know my name?”
I picked up a roll from the basket and spread some butter on it.
“You know what? Butter isn’t the same anymore since I had Sebastian’s cherry butter at Four Kinds.”
“You know my son?” Her eyes narrowed as she sipped her martini.
“I briefly met him the other night. Best food I’d ever had.” I brought the roll to my mouth.
“You stay away from my son.” She pointed at me.
“Twenty-nine years ago, a woman named Genevieve Monet showed up at your house.”
The color drained from Barb’s face. “I remember.” She brought the glass to her lips. “She was pregnant with my husband’s child.”
“I’m that child.”
“I see.” Her death stare burned into my eyes.
“Henry, your father, is dead.”
“I know. Maybe I would have had the chance to know him if you hadn’t paid off my mother to leave town and never tell him about me.”
“Please.” She laughed. “Henry never would have accepted you as his child. He knew about Shaun and never once sought him out. What makes you think you’d be any different? Your father was a man who fucked anything with long, lean legs. He never took responsibility for his mistakes. When your mother showed up at my home that day, it was the final straw as far as I was concerned. I had four little boys I was raising. They were Henry’s priorities. Not some bimbo’s that he knocked up back in New York and Paris.”
“Don’t you dare speak about my mother like that,” I spoke through gritted teeth.
“I apologize. It wasn’t your mother’s fault. It was Henry’s. She had no idea that he was married and had four sons. He was a pathological liar, and unfortunately, your mother got caught up in his web of lies.”
“What exactly did you tell my mother?” I asked.
“Why are you here asking me? Obviously, your mother told you who your birth father is. She wouldn’t tell you the specifics?”
“My mother passed away last month. She left a letter with a family friend to give me after she died. Her last words to me were that she was sorry she lied to me and hoped that I could forgive her.”
“So she did keep her promise all these years. What did she tell you about your father growing up?” Barb asked.
“All she said was that he took off after he found out she was pregnant and never came back.”
“I see.” She finished her martini and held her finger up for the waiter.
He walked over with our food and set our plates in front of us.
“Another Martini,” Barb said.
“I’ll have a vodka martini, extra dirty,” I spoke. “Barb, I want to know your conversation with my mother.”
“I told her the same thing I told you the day she came to my home, sat on my couch, and cried her eyes out. She kept apologizing and said she had no idea he was married with children. He wasn’t wearing his wedding band, which didn’t surprise me, that asshole. I told her the cold, hard truth about that man. And if she thought he would leave me and his four sons for a second, she was living in a fantasy world.”
“Then you paid her off to leave and never speak of me?” I asked.
“I did. There was no way in hell I was about to have my son’s lives ruined with them knowing their father kept producing offspring because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants—First Shaun, and now you. My husband made your mother false promises in Paris he never intended to keep. He got what he wanted and knew damn well when he returned, that would be the end of it. He never expected your mother to follow him back. Thank God he was at work the day she visited. After convincing her what a piece of shit Henry Kind was and agreeing to take the money to start a new life for herself, I divorced him. I couldn’t live like that anymore, sitting and waiting for the next woman to knock on my door.”
“And how did that turn out for your sons?” I asked.
“They had their issues. I had my share of men over the years, as did Henry. Fuck, marry, divorce, repeat. He was on his fifth marriage before he died, which was barely hanging on by a thread because, once again, he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. That’s who your father was,” she spoke sternly, pointing her finger at me. “So, now that you know, you can go back to where you came from and move on with your life.”
“Excuse me?” I cocked my head. “I have five brothers and a sister whom I never got a chance to grow up with or get to know. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You are to leave my family alone. They’ve had enough trauma in their lives from everything that happened over the years. They don’t know about you, and they don’t need to. They’re happy, and I won’t let some stranger walk into their lives and turn them upside down. They’ve had enough change to deal with.”
I couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman.