Tarin knew two places she had to try, though she wasn’t ready to go near one of them. She drove for almost two hours before she pulled into a hotel’s parkade. She headed for the spaces reserved for executives, knowing she shouldn’t but it didn’t stop her from parking there anyway. On impulse, she dug through her purse and pulled out a permit with similar colors but for another hotel chain and hung it from the mirror, hoping no one would look too closely.
The dim lights attempted to cut the shadows in the darkened garage, but they weren’t enough to stop her from glancing over her shoulder. Her subconscious played games with her, turning silhouettes into assailants and the average passerby into someone that might ask her what the hell she was doing there after all this time. Her nerves were strung taut as she made her way into the hotel. The dark earth tones and buttery light cast a warm and inviting ambiance. She hoped that was the reception she was going to get.
Brushing her hand down her wrinkled skirt, she took a deep breath, tossed back her hair, pointed her chin in the air and made her way down the short hallway to the desk. “Hi. I’m here to see Mr. Cooper.”
“I’m sorry but he doesn’t—”
“Please don’t. Tell him that Tarin Roth... Madsen is here to see him.”
She didn’t have to wait long before she was ushered to a private back elevator and escorted to the top floor. Her hands were clamped together so tightly she wasn’t sure she could pry them open to knock on the lone door.
“Hmhm.”
The sound of the security guard behind her reminded her she wasn’t alone. Closing her eyes, she rapped on the solid oak door. Even though no timepiece was present, she was certain she could hear the incessant ticking of the old Howard Millar grandfather clock that used to grace the foyer at home. The door swung inward and it was only then that what she was doing hit her like a sledgehammer. She was going to ask someone she’d never met to help her. It was a shock when an old man opened the door, his full cap of snow white hair crowning a relatively long, lean frame. Piercing hazel eyes, so like hers, stared back at her. There was no sound. No air. No movement. Nothing but the man in front of her who appeared as stunned as she.
“Oh, my beautiful girl.” She was enveloped in two benevolent, solid arms.
She wrapped hers tentatively around him, but when he made no indication he was going to let her go, she held him tighter. Eventually, he pulled back, and unashamed tears coursed down his face, getting lost in the wrinkles only to find their way to his chin and drip into his open collar. She reached up to brush them off his cheek before she recognized the motherly reflex. Before she could jerk her hand back, he clasped it in his, thwarting her intent to pull away. The most beautiful smile ever directed at her lit his face.
“Come in. I’m sorry for making you stand in the hallway.”
Within minutes, an assistant served tea and muffins fresh from the oven. Not realizing how hungry she was, she’d downed two before she remembered her manners. She set down the little that was left, daintily wiped her face and hands with the lace napkin and folded it neatly beside her cup. She sat forward on the edge of the couch, one ankle crossed over the other and her hands clasped in her lap.
He sighed heavily. Startled, she looked at him. He was watching her closely.
“I know I shouldn’t have barged in here. I’m sorry. But I—”
“Don’t. I know what you want. You need me to kick my son’s butt; something I should have done a long time ago. I am so sorry to have been absent from your life.”
“I didn’t come here, Mr.—” The sorrow in the depth of his eyes was almost her undoing. “I—I don’t know what to call you.”
“Grandfather would make me happy.”
“All right, Grandfather.” The term stumbled on her tongue, a simple word with such a complex significance. With shaky fingers she reached for her tea. “I need your help but I don’t know if you’re the right person to grant my request.”
“What has that son of mine done now?”
She’d carefully studied all she could about her grandfather over the years. Everything she’d read about him depicted him as an honorable, hardworking man, fair with his staff. Well-liked. But then the media sometimes portrayed her dad that way as well, so she knew only too well that not all they published was accurate.
“I haven’t talked with Father in several years. I need you to know that up front. We had a falling out, of sorts.”
“Probably similar to the one we had thirty-some years ago. It was a few years before you were born. As soon as I learned about you, I tried to mend fences but he used you as a pawn to control me. Ultimately I knew it would hurt you so I walked away. It was the toughest day of my life.”
She had to blink back the tears in response to the devastated emotion in his voice.
“He was such a smart mouth kid, always wanting to best me. He didn’t want to work with me; he wanted to crush me. I don’t know why. His mother—your grandmother, God rest her soul, was such an enabler. I wasn’t home much so I suppose I became the target of his anger.” A sad smile curved his lips. “I tried to see you over the years but he told me if I didn’t stay way, he’d make certain I never saw you again. So I waited, hoping he’d change his mind.”
Someday, perhaps the two could compare stories about all the things her father had done, but right now she couldn’t waste time going down that road. When he paused for breath, she said, “I need your help.” Once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop. She told him everything, including things she’d never told another living soul, including about Chance.
He listened without interruption. Nothing she said seemed to faze him, although her cheeks felt as if they would burst into flames borne of embarrassment. When she’d finished, he stood and opened his arms wide. The years seemed to roll back as she rushed into them, the little girl who’d always dreamed of familial love. The minutes ticked past as they held each other. Then eventually, they sat side by side on the divan while he made a telephone call.
“Dorothea. We have a bit of a situation. You recall our discussion last week about the sale of your winery? Right. Okay. We’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning. What? He’s there. Okay. I’ll tell her. Thank you. Bye.”
Tarin tried not to eavesdrop but since she was right beside him it was impossible not to.
“I’m sure you heard that Chance is at the estate with Dorothea. He’ll be safe there.”
“But I left him—” A sob ripped through her, preventing her from continuing.
“My dear, you made the most difficult decision a parent could make. But I think it was a smart one. You found someone you could trust.”
“I don’t really know him. Them.”
“Your indoctrination, no doubt, was unmitigated under my son’s tutelage.” He winked at her and smiled. “But it’s good to know you overcame that to follow your gut instincts. I’ve known Dorothea a very long time, and I would trust her and her family with my life. She is the best of friends but she is certainly one lady that cannot be trifled with. You can call in an hour to speak with your son. Graham is tending to his bath at present.”
Though she tried not to react when he mentioned Graham’s name, his shrewd perusal made her realize he had seen right through her. Her cheeks felt so heated, she was certain they were crimson, but he only beamed in response.
“Our plan for this evening, my darling, is to have a warm, relaxing dinner followed by a full night’s sleep, for tomorrow we have work to do.”
“You knew Dad was trying to take over the winery?”
“Let’s say it had come up recently.”
“We can’t let that happen.”
~~~~
“You were right. She arrived at Cooper-Lite Hotels to see her grandfather.”
He clenched his fists. At least he finally knew her location. “Thank you. Good job. Keep an eye on her.” He’d also just learned that Dorothea was meeting with Guy, Bailey and Graham. The timing couldn’t be better to take out all of those who had tried to ruin him.