The Wayward Son

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“I suppose so,” Anna admitted, sorry that he’d so deftly avoided answering her question.

They walked along the shady sidewalk, stopping every now and then to wander into one of the many galleries before they crossed the road to take an umbrella-covered table outside an obviously very popular inn. Anna pulled the pin from her hair and shook it loose from its temporary restraint. She didn’t miss the glow of pure male appreciation in Judd’s eyes as she did so and felt her body warm in response.

“Would you like a menu, or would you like me to choose for you?” Judd asked.

“Go ahead and order for me. I eat just about everything.”

“What would you like to drink? A glass of wine?”

Anna eyed a nearby patron swigging at a foam-topped beer. “One of those,” she said, pointing.

“Beer?”

“Sure. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who don’t think women should drink beer.”

“Not at all.” He laughed. “In fact, I plan to join you.”

When the waitress came over he ordered their meals and two beers. They didn’t have to wait long before the food and drinks arrived. Anna gasped when she saw the size of the platter placed before them.

“It’s their Taste of Germany. You couldn’t come here without trying it,” Judd said.

“I’ll take your word for it. I sure hope you’re hungry, too,” Anna replied, taking a sip of her chilled beer. “Mmm, that’s good.”

She grew so engrossed in the meal and their surroundings that she didn’t notice when a family with several children raced by their table. One of the kids lost his balance when his foot hooked into the handle of her bag, which she’d placed on the ground by the table leg. Anna’s hands flew to stabilize the beer mugs on the table as it rocked under the impact of the youngster’s clumsiness.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry,” his harried mother said, rushing to pick up the belongings that had scattered from Anna’s bag.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Anna assured her, reaching for the items the woman had so far gathered and shoving them back in her bag. “Really, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left the strap hanging out like that.”

Judd had risen from his chair and was helping to collect Anna’s things. Too late she saw the stark-white envelope that had been ejected from its hiding place. His long-fingered hand hovered over it and her heart sank to the soles of her feet as she registered the exact moment he identified the name on the front.

He settled back in his chair, handing most of her things back to her, but holding the envelope between his fingers as if it contained something dangerous inside. The mother and her son moved on, rejoining the rest of their family, but Anna didn’t even notice. All she could do was stare at Judd and the flat packet in his hands.

“Care to explain this?” he said, his voice suddenly devoid of the warmth it had contained only moments ago.

Anna took a deep breath. “It’s a letter.”

“I can see that. It looks like a letter to me.”

She couldn’t maintain eye contact and instead dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers knotted in anxiety. This was all wrong. She’d wanted to give him the letter when she was ready, when she was in control and when she could better gauge what his reaction would be. Not in a public place like this, with no warning and no chance to prepare him for the letter’s contents.

“It is,” she said softly.

She flinched as she heard the envelope tear open. Her stomach tied in a knot of unbelievable proportions as the sound of a single sheet of paper being unfolded overwhelmed the noise of the diners and sightseers around them.

Anna finally lifted her gaze and watched as Judd read the letter his father had written. The letter that had the capacity to change all their lives. When he’d finished, he neatly refolded the sheet and put it back in the envelope. Still he said nothing. A shiver of fear danced down her spine. He was calm, too calm. She’d seen Charles get like this and she knew that it was only the quiet before the storm. What was coming could only be cataclysmic.

She reached across the table, touching his forearm. He shook off her touch as if she were nothing more than an annoying insect.

“Judd—” she started, but whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat when he met her eyes and she felt the full fury of the glacial fire reflected there.

“Who the hell are you and why are you really here?”

Four

Across the table Anna stared at him in shock. She felt all color drain from her face and a numb coldness settle in the pit of her stomach. She’d done this all wrong. She should have just followed Charles’s orders right from the start to make an appointment to see Judd and tell him from the outset why she was there. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I … I’ve told you who I am. I’m Anna Garrick. And …” Her mouth dried, forcing her to pause for a moment, and swallow, before continuing, “And I’m here because your father desperately wants to make amends for the past.”

“If he’s so keen to make amends, why isn’t he here himself?” Judd demanded.

His skin had gone taut across his features, lending an implacable hardness to his face, and his eyes burned with a hard blue intensity.

“He didn’t tell you in the letter?”

“I want to hear it from you. Why did he not come here himself? Was he too ashamed to face up to me, to face up to the truth that his own pride and his stupid accusations are responsible for having torn our family apart in the first place?”

Anna made a small noise of protest. It wasn’t like that. Sure, she’d heard that Charles hadn’t been an angel at the time his marriage to Cynthia had fallen irrevocably apart—who ever was when under extreme pressure?—but from what her mother had told her, she knew that Cynthia had done plenty of damage, as well. Charles definitely hadn’t been solely responsible for what had happened, no matter what Judd’s mother might have told him.

“Well?” Judd demanded.

“He’s unwell. His doctor wouldn’t clear him to travel.” The diabetes that had plagued Charles for so many years had worsened, in part due to his late diagnosis and subsequent reluctance to follow medical recommendations to prevent further damage to his body. His kidneys were showing signs that renal failure could be just around the corner.

“How convenient.”

Judd lifted his stein and took a healthy swig of its contents, and Anna felt the initial stirrings of her own anger rise in response to his derision.

“It isn’t convenient at all, actually. Look, I’m not privy to exactly what he said in his letter to you, but I have a pretty good idea of what he’s asking. He wants to see you again. To get to know you before he—” Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, her voice broke.

“Before he what?”

“Before he dies,” she said shakily.

“You care about him?” Judd’s voice was devoid of emotion.

“More than you could ever understand,” she said, forcing herself to pull it together. “He is not a well man, Judd. Please, this could be your last chance to get to know him. He’s your father, surely you owe him that.”

“Owe him?” He snorted a laugh. “That’s rich. I don’t owe him anything and I haven’t exactly missed out on having him in my life. I don’t see why that should change, although he has certainly attempted to sweeten the pot to entice me back to New Zealand.”

“Sweeten the pot?” She felt a building sense of dread. Just what kind of incentive had Charles offered?

“You really don’t know?”

“If I knew, would I be asking?” she snapped.

“Strange, given that you’re his valued employee, and given—by your own admission—how close you are and how much you care about him, that he didn’t see the need to apprise you of his intentions.”

She didn’t like his unspoken insinuation that there was something unsavory between her and Charles. Sure, she loved him—like a father. But how could she explain that to Judd now? He’d never believe her.

Judd leaned back in his chair and fixed her with his intense gaze. “It seems that your esteemed employer wishes to offer me a controlling interest in the family business.”

“He what?”

A controlling interest? Just like that? Black spots swam before Anna’s eyes and she gulped at the air. How could Charles do that to Nicole? How could she have done that to Nicole? Anna knew her best friend had standards just as high as Charles’s when it came to loyalty and honesty. When she found out that Anna had been the messenger who had gone behind Nicole’s back to practically hand deliver Charles’s company to Judd, would Nicole ever forgive her?

“And that’s not all. Apparently, he wants to assign the family home to me, as well.” He casually waved the letter in the air. “All to do with whatever I please.”

Anna couldn’t believe her ears. “He wouldn’t do something like that. You have no loyalty to Charles, no loyalty to Wilson Wines. For all we know, you’d just sell off your share to someone who didn’t give a damn. Charles would never do something so rash.”

Would he? Had he become so desperate to mend the vast chasm between father and son that he was prepared to offer the world on a platter? This would destroy Nicole. She’d grown up in the New Zealand house—it was still her home. And she’d poured her heart and soul into the business—surely not to simply see half of it handed over to her brother? Charles couldn’t be so cruel.

But Anna knew full well that Charles was capable of doing such a thing. Single-minded to a fault, his aim was to return his son to his side before he died. When his doctors had confirmed that time might be running out, he’d gone after his goal to bring Judd back into his life with every weapon at his disposal. He’d do whatever it took, even if it meant hurting the daughter who loved him so very much.

Ever since the posthumous delivery of a letter from his former partner and biggest business rival, Thomas Jackson, he’d become obsessed with Judd, with somehow rebuilding a bond between them. Anna hadn’t been privy to the contents of the letter but she’d wager her very generous salary that it had to do with the rift between the business partners and Cynthia and Judd leaving New Zealand very shortly after. She’d often wondered if Thomas Jackson and Cynthia had been lovers.

Which begged the question—had Charles believed Judd was not his son?

Judd passed the letter across to her.

“Read it for yourself.”

The words blurred before her eyes and she blinked to clear them. It was true. There, in Charles’s scrawling black handwriting, was his desperate appeal to the son he’d turned his back on twenty-five years ago. She knew what it must have cost the older man to put his emotions in words like this. Never a demonstrative man, it shocked her to see him pour his heart out onto the page. Ever hedging his bets, though, he’d insisted on Judd undergoing DNA testing to prove he was, without a shadow of a doubt, Charles’s child. Ah, so there had been some doubt. Now everything began to make sense.

She finished scanning the letter and neatly folded it before handing it back to Judd.

“I had no idea he had planned this. Will you accept his offer?” she asked.

“He insults my mother, even after all this time, and you think I’m going to leap at his offer?”

“Insults Cynthia?” She didn’t follow his reasoning.

“The DNA test. He wants proof she didn’t cheat on him when I was conceived. It’s obvious, no matter what he says in that letter, he hasn’t changed a bit. He still expects to call all the shots. And then there’s you.”

“Me?”

“What’s your role in all this? Did he expect you to also sweeten the deal?”

Anna felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “I don’t think I like what you’re suggesting.”

“Well, you can’t blame me. You come to my family’s home, you fail to identify yourself or your reasons for being here and you show yourself to be very receptive to attention from me. You certainly didn’t object last night when I kissed you.”

“That was …”

Words failed her.

“It was what, Anna? Going over and above the call of duty?”

Anna bit back the retort that sprang so readily to her lips and forced herself to calm down.

“I did what I came to do, you have the letter, you’ve read it. Now the ball is in your court.”

And she’d failed Charles, she admitted to herself. The knowledge lodged like a heavy ball of painful regret knotted tight within her chest. The most important thing he’d ever asked of her and she’d screwed it up.

“Please, I beg of you, don’t let what I’ve done influence your decision in any way. Charles wanted me to be upfront with you. It was my choice to hold back my real reasons for being here.”

“Why?”

“I knew he wanted to extend an olive branch, but I was concerned about how you might feel about him and whether you would take advantage of him. He’s an old man, old before his time because of his illness. He doesn’t deserve any more misery in his life.”

“And that’s your considered opinion?”

“Of course it is. Look, you don’t know him. You probably barely remember him. Whatever happened in the past is past. It can’t be undone. Can’t you put it aside and consider what it would mean to him to make amends with you now?”

Judd stared at her for a moment, his expression not giving any sign of what he might be thinking. The knot of dread tightened even further.

Put the past behind him? Did she have even the faintest idea what she was asking? Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t been torn from the father who had adored him one minute and then refused to look at him the next. She hadn’t been transplanted into another family, another world, and been told to “man up” because his mother expected him to be strong. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d watched cars arrive at The Masters’ and hoped against hope that his father would alight from one of them. That he’d come to say it had all been a mistake.