The Wayward Son (7 page)

“Thomas Jackson…I think I remember someone with that name from when I was a kid.”

“That would probably be right,” Anna commented. “Thomas Jackson and your father were business partners and best friends. They had a disagreement and Charles bought him out.”

“Must have been a helluva disagreement.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Anna shrugged, trying to keep her face expressionless. “It was before my time and my mother never spoke about it.” True, her mother hadn’t spoken about it, and neither had Charles—but Anna had drawn her own conclusions from the rumors that still persisted even years later, and it wasn’t difficult to do the math. Charles’s divorce from Cynthia and his falling-out with Thomas Jackson had happened at exactly the same time. Those incidents coupled with Charles’s insistence on Judd being DNA tested—well, the writing was very clearly on the wall.

Judd sat in his seat, a contemplative expression on his face. Anna wondered what on earth was going through his mind.

“Charles has never said anything to you about it?” he eventually said.

“Not a word, and it’s not really something I’d raise with him, anyway. If you want to know more, you’ll have to speak to him yourself,” she said a little sharply.

Judd chuckled. “And so I’m duly put firmly in my place.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry, Anna. You’re right. I should do my own background checks if I want to know things. And I will.”

His words made her nervous. Why was it so important for him to dig into the past? Surely it was enough that his father wanted to mend the broken bridges between them. She knew that the death of Thomas Jackson had hit Charles hard. She’d always thought Charles had thrived on the challenge and competition his past colleague presented to him on a regular basis, but now she wondered whether, once the heat and anger had died down, Charles hadn’t been suffering regret for the way their friendship had ended.

Either way, the topic wasn’t open for discussion as far as she was concerned. She swung her car into a space in the car park at the premises of Wilson Wines’ largest customer, grateful for the opportunity to put some space between them. Knowing his opinion of her had done nothing to calm her ever-present awareness of him—of the way her body warmed every time he was in the vicinity, of her hyperawareness of his alluring cologne as it wreathed her senses in forbidden enticement. She resolutely cleared her mind of anything else but what Charles had asked her to do today. She’d get through this, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Six

T
he minute they set foot back in the house Anna could sense something in the air. There was an energy thrumming through the place that hadn’t been there this morning and when she went through to the kitchen for a chilled glass of water, the cook and housekeeper were working flat out on what looked to be very elaborate meal preparations.

“Did I miss something?” she asked the cook, who was busily checking pots on the commercial-size stove top.

“No, dear. Just himself making requests for something very special for dinner tonight—says he has an important announcement to make, and he wants you all to dress up, too. Can you let Miss Nicole know when she gets in?”

Clearly the courier pack he’d received this morning had borne the news Charles had wanted so very much. A vague numbness permeated Anna’s body, leaving her confused about how she felt about the news. It was what Charles had wanted, there was no doubt about that. But she knew he hadn’t said a word yet to Nicole about his plans. If he had, she knew Nicole would have discussed it with her. Still, Nicole had been avoiding her lately, still stung, Anna was sure, over her not disclosing the reason for her trip to Adelaide. Worried she might miss Nicole, she sent her a text message.

Don’t be late tonight. Your dad wants us all dressed up for dinner. He has an announcement to make. —A.

Nicole was quick to reply; a series of question marks flashed across Anna’s screen. She swallowed against the knot of disloyalty that tightened in her throat as she texted back.

No idea what it’s about, sorry.

On the way to her room she passed by Charles’s suite, knocking softly on the door before letting herself in. He wasn’t in his private sitting room, so she figured he must be resting. It had become a regular habit of his after a half day at the office—late starts, early finishes and plenty of rest in between. She was reluctant to disturb his nap, but she needed to talk to him about Nicole. Deciding to wait until she heard him up and about in the bedroom, she settled on one of the comfortable sofas he had in the sitting room and popped her feet up beside her.

Some time later Anna stirred at the sound of running water coming from the other room. She blinked to clear her eyes, realizing it had grown full dark outside. She dragged a hand through her hair. It was sticking every which way. Darn, she knew she should have tied it up today. A quick glance at her watch revealed how close it was to the dinner hour. There was no way she’d be able to be ready and talk to Charles this side of dinner. As it was, she’d be pushing it to get ready on time.

She shrugged out of her jacket, tucking it under one arm, and untucked then started to unbutton her blouse as she headed for the door. She opened it and slipped outside into the hallway, only to come face-to-face with Judd. Her nostrils flared, taking in the freshly showered scent of him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, trying to sidestep past him and get to her room, “I’m running late.”

Judd’s expression, usually distinctly unreadable, reflected a look of surprise, before a cold, calculating look appeared in his eyes.

“So I see,” he said, stepping to one side to let her by.

Understanding dawned with the drenching effect of sub-Antarctic waters. “It’s not—”

“Didn’t you say you were running late?” he reminded her with that arch to his brow that he used with such great effect.

Without another word she stalked past him to her room a little farther down the hall. She closed the door behind her and leaned against the solid wooden surface, realizing that she was shaking. There was no question that Judd thought he’d caught her
in flagrante delicto.
Anna pushed herself away from the door and forced herself to walk through to her en suite bathroom, peeling the rest of her clothes off on the way. What should it matter what Judd Wilson thought? It wasn’t the truth, so as far as she was concerned it shouldn’t matter one iota. Even so, as she stepped beneath the spray of her shower, she couldn’t help wishing she hadn’t put that look of disapproval on his face.

By the time she’d dressed, reapplied her makeup and swept her hair up into an elegant chignon, she’d missed predinner drinks. She joined Charles, Judd and Nicole as they walked through to the dining room. Despite her text to Nicole, her friend obviously hadn’t had time to change out of her work clothes—or perhaps had chosen not to, knowing it would rile her father.

“Sorry I’m late,” Anna said breathlessly as she entered the dining room.

“You’re here in time for the important news,” Charles said with a thread of emotion in his voice that put Anna’s nerves on edge.

She took her seat, opposite Judd, feeling the blue fire of his gaze upon her as she did so.

“What important news?” Nicole asked.

Anna felt her throat close and her chest tighten. This wasn’t going to be pretty. As dependable as Nicole was in a business setting, she wasn’t known for deliberation or contemplation when it came to her private affairs. Impulsiveness and impetuosity were more her mark in trade. She wasn’t going to take the news of her father’s plans happily. Especially not when she’d worked so hard at his side all these years, striving constantly to be everything he needed in business and in family.

Charles seemed oblivious to Anna’s distress and to the storm that was brewing. He was puffed up with pride. Anna hadn’t seen him this animated in some time. He picked up his glass and gestured in Judd’s direction.

“I’d like to propose a toast. To my son, Judd. Welcome home, where you truly belong.”

Anna hazarded a look at Judd, watching to see if this open declaration that he was definitely Charles’s son would have an effect on him at all. She was disappointed. He merely nodded toward his father and raised his own glass in response.

“Aren’t you repeating yourself, Dad?” Nicole asked. “Didn’t we already go through this last Friday when Judd arrived?”

“No, I’m not repeating things at all. It is a relief to an old man to be able to acknowledge his family,
all
his family, now that the results have come in. And to that end I have a small presentation to make.”

Charles patted a long, narrow envelope that sat on the tablecloth next to his place setting. He picked it up and handed it to Judd.

“You’ll find it all in there, son. Exactly as I promised.”

Even though he knew there had never been any doubt about his paternity, Judd felt a thrill of exhilaration surge through him. Here it was, the moment he’d been waiting for, for most of his adult life. His father handing him the tools with which to pay him back for what he’d done to Judd and his mother all those years ago. Tomorrow he would have a solicitor draw up the share-transfer papers in order for him to present Nate Hunter with an offer that the man could not refuse. The controlling interest in Wilson Wines for the princely sum of one dollar. Judd took the proffered envelope.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Oh, surely you don’t have to call me ‘sir,’” Charles blustered. “If you can’t call me Dad, then at least call me Charles.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

He saw the hope in his father’s eyes dim a little. There was no way he could call this man “Dad,” not after all these years. He scanned the two women at the table. Anna sat there, frozen, as if she was expecting something terrible to happen and she was totally helpless to prevent it. He began to get some understanding of the reason why when he saw his sister’s face.

Confusion battled with irritation across her features and it didn’t take long before she was demanding some clarity about what had just been passed over to him.

“What did you promise, Dad?” she asked, a fine tremor in her voice betraying her heightened nerves.

“Only what Judd has always been due, Nicole.”

She flung a dark-eyed glare at Judd. “And that would be?”

“The deed to the house and a controlling interest in Wilson Wines. The rest will go to you on my death, as you well know,” Charles interjected. “Now, shall we have another toast and get down to the business of enjoying the wonderful meal I know Mrs. Evans has prepared?”

“A controlling interest in Wilson Wines?” Nicole’s voice rose on a note of incredulity. “Dad, what are you doing? He doesn’t know the first thing about the business.”

“He has experience with the wine industry in Australia. And now that he’s home, he has time to learn how we do things here,” Charles said, as if that was the end of the matter.

“That’s not fair. I’ve given everything to Wilson Wines, to
you
. And you just go and give it all away, just like that. To a stranger?”

“He’s your brother, he’s not a stranger,” Charles snapped back, the color in his cheeks an unhealthy ruddy red.

“He may as well be.”

Judd felt he should say something, but he held back. When he followed through on his plans for Wilson Wines, his sister would be glad she didn’t know him better and would probably never even want to see him again, anyway. The knowledge gave him a sharp pang of regret. They’d both been cheated of so much by their father’s dictatorial decisions. Maybe he’d be able to find her something to do within The Masters’.

Across the table, Nicole laughed, but the sound held no humor in it. Anna reached out and took Nicole’s hand in hers, squeezing it tight, but Nicole shook her off, turning on her instead.

“You’re just as bad. I suppose you knew about this?”

Anna’s expression told his sister all she needed to know.

“I can’t believe it. Betrayed by the only two people in the entire world that I love.” She pushed her chair back from the table and rose. “I can’t stay here and listen to any more of this. It’s just wrong.”

“Nicole, calm yourself and sit down,” Charles interjected. “This is how things should have been all along. You know it as well as I do. I never made you any promises about Wilson Wines. Just you wait, you’ll find some young man who’ll sweep you off your feet and before I know it you will be married and raising a family. Wilson Wines will just be a hobby for you.”

Judd might not know his sister well, but even he could tell that that had been the dead-wrong thing to say. “A hobby?” Nicole’s voice rose steadily. “I can’t believe this. You can’t be serious. Wilson Wines is everything to me. I love the business, love the industry—everything I learned was so I could run the company one day. I’ve lived under the same roof as you all my life, worked beside you every day I possibly could to try and earn your respect, and yet you don’t know me at all.”

She made for the door. Anna rose and went after her.

“No, let me go!” Nicole said, tears tracking down her cheeks as she held up her hands as if to ward Anna off.

Judd could see the hurt in Anna’s eyes, the guilt she clearly felt for not having given Nicole any warning of what her father had been about to do. Even he felt sick to his stomach that his father could so cavalierly shrug off Nicole’s contribution to Wilson Wines in the past few years and denigrate it as a hobby. Another black mark in the increasing collection against Charles Wilson.

“She always was a little high-strung,” Charles commented as Nicole slammed the dining room door behind her. “She’ll come around, you’ll see. She doesn’t have it in her to stay angry for long.”

“Charles,” Anna said, “this is more than a tantrum. Can’t you see? You’ve hurt her deeply.”

“Do you think so?” Charles cast her a look of genuine surprise. “No, she’s just being overemotional, that’s all. She’ll calm down soon and see this is all for the best. I’ve always had her best interests at heart, you know that.”

“Do I?” Anna pressed. “Don’t you think she sees it as her position within Wilson Wines being undermined, let alone her position here in her home?”

Judd had to admire the way she stuck up for his sister.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’ll always be my daughter. In fact, I’ve probably spoiled her over the years. She’ll just have to get used to the idea of sharing with Judd now, is all. Now, come and settle back down. Mrs. Evans is waiting to serve.”

“I need to make a call—to make sure she’s okay,” Anna insisted.

Charles waved a hand. “Fine, then, go ahead. Do what you must.”

When Anna returned, Charles rang the small crystal-and-silver bell that stood beside his water glass. Judd watched as Anna resumed her seat, her body vibrating with tension and her distress clear on her features. The call to his sister can’t have gone well.

Anna excused herself from the table immediately after dessert, leaving Charles and Judd to talk, but it wasn’t long before Charles showed signs of weariness and also left to go upstairs to bed.

Alone? Judd wondered, his mind uncomfortably casting back to when he’d surprised Anna coming from the older man’s suite of rooms. She’d clearly been in the process of putting her clothes back on in case someone saw her in the hallway. And someone had. Judd’s hand tightened on the stem of the Waterford crystal goblet in his hand, the glowing red wine within it barely touched.

Well, he could certainly find out if she had gone ahead to warm his father’s sheets. All it would take would be an inquiry at her door.

Judd barely realized he’d made the decision to check on Anna until he found himself outside of her bedroom. He raised his hand and rapped softly on the door, leaning one shoulder against the jamb as he waited for it to open. To his surprise, it did.