“Are you Harry Chamberlin?” I knew he was, but it was important that I had the right person before I did what I’d come here to do.
“I am.”
Harry got to his feet, and I suddenly wished he’d stay seated. If I’d been intimidated before, his height—at least six three—was not helping my confidence any now. But I wasn’t about to run. I’d come too far for that.
“If you’re Harry, then I’m not lost. I’m Laurel. Laurel Anderson.”
The minute I said my name, a flash of recognition lit his eyes.
“I see. And what is it that’s brought you to my place of business today, Miss Anderson?”
If it’d been up to me, I never would’ve set foot in his place of business. But that wasn’t an option anymore. “I want to know where Noah is.”
A cruel smile curled Harry’s lips as he tossed the dirty rag on top of the toolbox. “And why would I tell you that?”
I angled my chin up and reminded myself that Ryan had seen me come in here. I had nothing to fear. It wasn’t like Harry was going to off me and no one would ever see me again.
“Because I have to talk to him.”
“About?”
“That’s between us.”
Harry chuckled, sending a shiver up my spine. “The last time I checked, there was no us when it came to the two of you, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
I ignored his dig, having prepared myself for the kind of man he was. But he was just getting started.
“You see, Laurel, Noah is fifth-generation Chamberlin. This town—the place you live in—is his namesake. He’s my oldest boy and I want great things for him, the best he can possibly get, and you, my dear, are just not it.”
The pain of hearing those words out loud cut deeper than I’d anticipated. They were like a physical blow. I was so stunned by their callous nature that I couldn’t seem to send a message from my brain to my feet to move.
“Noah is destined to be with someone of his own stature. Someone who will fit in around here and help run a world-class winery and wow the industry with the Chamberlin name. So any romantic notions you’re still clinging to? I suggest you let them go. He’s not coming back for you, and I’m not telling you where he went.”
The bitter taste of bile rose in my throat, and I shuddered. I was well aware of the class differences between Noah and myself. I had been from the minute we’d started dating. But Noah had never once looked down on me for what I didn’t have, so the only person projecting that opinion was Harry.
I clenched my fists and reminded myself why I was there. I didn’t owe this man anything. I was here for me. I was here to do the right thing, and I was done listening to him talk me down.
Taking my silence as acceptance of his disgusting diatribe, Harry dismissed me by turning his back and rifling through his toolbox. But I wasn’t done just yet.
“I’m pregnant.”
Harry froze, and I prepared myself for an ugly response. But when he finally turned to face me, his expression was…inscrutable.
“And you’re telling me this because you think it’s—”
“I don’t think anything. I’m pregnant and Noah is the father.”
When Harry’s gaze landed on the billowy fabric of my dress, his jaw clenched. That’s right, do the math, sir. Three months in and I was just beginning to show. And it was three months exactly since his eldest son was a no-show.
Harry scratched at his stubbled cheek. “I suppose you think that’s going to make me change my mind about all of this? That I’m going to call Noah up and tell him the good news?”
That might’ve been my assumption at first, yes. But I was starting to see that as naïve.
“Wake up, girl.” Harry scoffed. “This just proves the point I was making all along. You are everything I don’t want for my boy.”
I’d expected that, the insults. Hell, this guy had thought I was no good when I was nothing more than a name to him. But the idea that he wouldn’t call Noah? That he wouldn’t tell him what I’d just revealed? That made my stomach heave.
What kind of monster would keep this kind of information from his own son?
“You’re not going to tell him?”
“Noah? No. And you’re not, either.”
“Good luck trying to stop me.” I might not know where Noah was right this second. But as soon as I left this nightmare of an encounter, I would do everything in my power to find him.
I stormed toward the door and was about to get the hell out of there, when Harry said, “Your mother is Debbie Anderson who runs the salon, yes?”
My spine stiffened. Then I turned back to face him. “She is. What’s that got to do with anything?”
When Harry got within a couple feet of me, he stopped and pulled a quarter from his pocket. He flicked it in the air, caught it, then flicked it up again, and as I waited for him to talk, I could feel the blood rushing around my head.
“I heard she wasn’t doing so well. Cancer? Is that right?”
It was. But how he knew that, I had no idea. I hadn’t told anyone about my mother’s cancer diagnosis, and I knew she wouldn’t have told anyone Harry knew.
“That must be hard,” he said when I didn’t answer. “Cancer always is. The pain, the fight, the expenses…”
My eyes began to blur as all of the stress and suffering we’d been through over the months slammed into me. But not about to talk to him about it, I gritted my teeth and somehow managed to say, “That’s none of your business.”
“What if I make it my business?”
Just about done with him and this conversation, I shook my head. “I’m leaving.”
“You can, of course, but you might want to hear me out first.”
“No offense, but I’m pretty much done listening to you.” I backed away, determined to leave this time.
“Even if it means helping your mom?”
My feet froze, and while my mind screamed, Don’t listen to him, I couldn’t bring myself to leave.
“What if I told you I could have her admitted to the best cancer facility in California? That I could have all of her expenses taken care of? Are you trying to say that something like that doesn’t interest you?”
I paused for a second, unbelieving of what I’d just heard, but then I quickly turned to make sure I hadn’t imagined it. Of course what he’d just said interested me. But I wasn’t stupid. Harry Chamberlin was a ruthless businessman. He wasn’t the kind of person who handed out charity, and this sounded a lot more like blackmail.
“I’m going to make you an offer, Miss Anderson. One I want you to listen to very carefully and think about. Your mother’s health and treatment in exchange for your denial of everything Noah when it comes to this child.”
God, this just got worse every time he opened his mouth.
“You’ll tell people this was an unfortunate result of a one-night stand because you were so distraught Noah left you.”
I lowered my head in disgust—at him or myself, I couldn’t be sure—as the realization of what I would be agreeing to enveloped me.
Harry took another step closer and tipped up my chin. “You do this and I’ll help your mother. We both win.”