Reunited in Love

Chapter Twenty-Seven

THE DRIVER TOOK KERRI to the Ritz, SUVs surrounding them like so many mechanized beetles. Three of her “bodyguards” then escorted her to a swanky suite on the top floor, though they didn’t follow her in. She barely registered the opulence of the suite. Barron liked his creature comforts and always traveled in style.

He was seated at a table with two sets of refreshments on it. He still had all his hair, though it was completely silver now. The thick mustache under his rather large crooked nose still had some auburn in it, as did the famously bushy eyebrows. He dressed casually, just a long-sleeved shirt and soft gray slacks, but the rich material hinted at wealth.

Who was she kidding? Everything about him was wealth and power.

“Grandpa,” Kerri said.

“Hello, Kerri.” He gestured to the empty seat on the other side of the table. “Thank you for joining me. Please sit.”

She took the chair and poured herself a cup of tea. Barron didn’t drink coffee, so of course there was none. “I didn’t realize you had business interests in northern Virginia.”

“I have business interests everywhere. But what brings me here is a family issue.”

Her fingers clenched around the delicate handle of the cup, and she relaxed them with deliberate care. “You didn’t have to send those men.”

“I disagree. I needed to make sure you didn’t disappear on me this time, since Justin seems incapable of keeping up with you.”

She said nothing and looked around. No one else was in the suite.

“Can you get to the point?” she asked. “I have things to do.” Such as collecting her things from Ethan’s place and returning the Audi to Natalie.

He nodded and seemed to gather himself. “Very well. I wanted you to know I’m sorry.”

Kerri put a finger in her ear and wiggled it around. “What? For a moment there it almost sounded like you were apologizing for something.”

Barron leveled a look at her. “Don’t be fresh.”

Despite herself, Kerri quailed a bit inside. Old or not, Barron was still a formidable figure. She closed her eyes briefly and held up a hand. “Okay. What are you sorry about?”

“About everything.” He shifted in his seat. “We forgot to appreciate what we had.”

Not hard to do when you’re the man who has everything. “Anything in particular?”

“You.”

She shrugged, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “Was I something to appreciate? I thought I was just a reminder of what you lost.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your grandsons. My brothers, Ned and Adam. My father.”

Barron’s complexion turned ashen. “How did you find out about them? We made sure to keep all of that hidden from you.”

“You didn’t do a very good job.”

“Apparently not. Now answer my question.”

“Mother kept boxes of photos and things. I found them.”

Barron sighed. “I told her to throw them out, but she wouldn’t. It would have made the loss too final. As if storing them would change anything.”

“Maybe it did for her. It certainly did for me.” Once she’d seen what was inside the boxes, she could never pretend she was all right around her family.

“I assumed you were pulling some sort of stunt when you sent me that cashier’s check for your college tuition. Thought you were trying to make a statement. Independent woman, all that sort of thing. So I put the entire sum into a few funds I was starting, thinking I’d give it back to you when you returned.”

She stared at him. He must’ve at least quadrupled the money by now.

“But then you disappeared. Cut your phone, left no forwarding address.”

“I sent that check almost eight years ago, and it took you this long to figure out your only grandchild was gone?” Her voice shook.

Barron’s dark eyes flickered. His hands tightened briefly before he reached for his tea. “I suppose I deserve that. You were upset. Still are.”

“This isn’t about my being upset. And if you want me to continue this conversation, I suggest that you not try to reduce my actions to a temper tantrum.” She hadn’t acted because of theatrics or to get attention. She’d done everything she could to insulate herself from further pain.

It had been so obvious that the hope she’d harbored about how her family would one day realize that she was a good girl and love her was just that—a hope. And hoping wasn’t enough to make something come true. Whenever her family looked at her, she’d always be the girl whose birth robbed them of their men. She’d never be more than that to them, and she needed to cut her losses.

“You left without telling anybody.” Barron picked up a sugar cookie and broke it in half. “We noticed not…” He sighed heavily. “It’d be easier if I could just lie, but I’m not going to. You deserve better. We noticed not because we cared, but because your mother passed away and we suddenly realized none of us knew how to reach you.”

Kerri said nothing. She’d known about her mother. It’d made the news several months back—reported once the funeral was more or less over. Barron was a significant figure, and even though his daughter had retired from society in grief years earlier, the press had still gone sniffing around.

The article had been a shock. Even though Renée had been completely unstable and rarely there for her, Kerri had never thought she’d lose her. In retrospect it made sense. Renée was—had been—a delicate woman who’d lived her life with unimaginable grief. Living with the stress of losing her husband and sons would’ve been incredibly tough, especially since she’d been the one who’d wanted a girl and insisted on having another baby. Kerri swallowed a big lump in her throat. She’d never really had the chance to know her mother, and she never would.


Barron sighed again. “Renée would’ve wanted you there. No matter what, she loved you. She wanted a daughter very badly.”

Not once she’d lost her husband and sons. She hadn’t wanted a girl then.

“And she blamed herself for what happened.”

Kerri’s head snapped up. “What?”

“It’s true. She asked that David bring the boys to the hospital to welcome you into the world, even though he thought it would be better to wait until the next day. It was late when your mother went into labor. She told me she was certain God took them away from her because she didn’t appreciate them enough. She couldn’t bear the sight of you not because you made her lose her children, but because you reminded her of her ‘selfishness’ as she called it.”

Kerri’s throat suddenly felt parched. She took a quick sip of tea, her hands unsteady.

“I never imagined you would separate yourself from the family, just walk away on your own and vanish. I always assumed you’d either work for Sterling & Wilson or get married and start your own family.”

“Why would I want a family of my own?” she said, stunned.

“Because that’s what your mother did, and that’s what I assumed you’d like to do if you didn’t want a career.”

“Even if I didn’t opt for a career, I wouldn’t want a family.”

The muscles in Barron’s jaw flexed. “That, too, is my fault.”

“No, Grandpa…it is what it is. I just” —she sighed, suddenly tired— “I just think families are for other people, not me. I did everything in my power to be noticed and acknowledged. I did everything in my power to be a good girl, but nobody cared.”

“I know. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Kerri, is it too late?”

She fidgeted with her teacup. If she were a nicer person she would tell him, “No, of course not, Grandpa. I love you, and I always wanted the family to be happy.” But she couldn’t. That wouldn’t be honest. And frankly, she didn’t have the heart to lie, not even to make him feel better. Not when she had all the pain of the past and a fresh dose from breaking up with Ethan. She blinked away the sudden tears. “I don’t know. Probably. I can’t pretend all those things never happened to me, that I never felt the pain of rejection and neglect.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Will you at least take the money that’s your due? It would make me feel better.”

“Money?” She stared at him. “Money won’t change the past.”

“It’s for my own peace of mind. I need to make sure you’re provided for.”

She wanted to turn down the money and act lofty and haughty, like she’d always thought she would in her vengeful and petty imagination, but the reality was far from that. She wasn’t a cool, self-possessed adult. That was a shell. Inside she was a kid desperate to be loved by her grandfather, yet scared of his rejection.

“When I look at you, I see a granddaughter I wronged.” Barron’s voice was ragged. “Don’t reject what little I can do for you.”

She sighed. “Let me think about it.”

“Please do. And I want you to know how sorry I am and that I want us to be family again if you can bring yourself to forgive me for my years of neglect.”

“Why do you care all of a sudden? Why now?”

He gave up the pretense of eating his sugar cookie. At this point, it was nothing more than a mound of crumbs on the plate. “I’m old, and my time’s going to be up soon. Losing your brothers and David was hard, but losing your mother—my own daughter—drove home how little time I have left. And it made me realize how terrible I’d been to you. I was losing you because I never appreciated you enough, was never thankful that you’re my own flesh and blood. I regret that it took your disappearance and your mother’s death for me to figure that out.”

Kerri nodded and swallowed a small sob. A small part of her resented that it’d taken her grandfather this long, but mostly she hurt at having lost so many years mired in grief.

“I won’t press for forgiveness,” Barron said. “I know it won’t come quickly, and that I have to earn it.”

She should reject this overture, make him suffer. But what would that prove except how petty she was? “Just to give you fair warning, I might be a tough nut to crack.”

Barron nodded solemnly, but some of the tension left his face. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. You are a Sterling.”

Kerri sighed. Well then.

“Now,” Barron said. “Tell me about Ethan Lloyd.”

She blinked at the sudden change in topic. “What about him?”

“You’re working for him.”

“Yes.”

“Is that all?” He looked at her with a penetrating gaze that made it clear he already knew everything.

“He’s a nice guy.” The greatest understatement of her life. When Barron opened his mouth again, she raised a hand. “Grandpa, I’m not going to discuss my private life with you.”

“Then I won’t pry. But does he treat you well?”

Her heart ached. Did he ever. He was the only one who cared enough to go out of his way to make sure she knew how special she was. Without him to show her, she might not have had the courage to face Barron on her own. She would’ve run again, just like in Hong Kong, but this time someplace even farther away.

She nodded, buying time to control her voice. “Overbearing and overprotective at times, but yes.”

He nodded. “It’s about time you had somebody who cares for you and gives you the love you deserve.”

Kerri felt tears coming to her eyes, and she sniffed slightly. “You just like the overbearing part.”

“I do,” he admitted. “But I like the overprotective part better. I want my granddaughter coddled. I want him to show you how special you are, something I wasn’t able to do for you because I was too damn foolish and purblind back then.”

“It’s over,” she blurted out, then bit her lower lip. She didn’t know what made her say it, but she couldn’t keep herself from telling him.

“What do you mean it’s over?” Barron asked.

“We’re through. We broke up right before I came to see you.”

He snorted. “Horsefeathers.”

“We had…a temporary arrangement.”

He laughed. “Kerri, a man in a temporary situation with a woman doesn’t insist on facing her family, especially one as powerful and wealthy as the Sterlings.”

“Yes, but—hey, wait a minute. How did you know that?”

“My men tell me everything. Miles phoned while you were on your way up.” Barron took another cookie. “Ethan isn’t stupid.”

No, he wasn’t. He was brilliant, magnificent, perfect.

“He knows who I am and—more to the point—what I’m capable of. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. I know I’m supposed to tell you you’re too good for the likes of Ethan Lloyd and all that other claptrap to make you feel better about yourself. But the truth is, when he comes back—and he will, mark my words—you’d better hang onto him.”

She stared at Barron, her jaw hanging open.

“Men like that don’t come along every day. Trust me, I’ve seen what your mother used to consider ‘boyfriends.’” His lips curled in contempt. “You meet a man like Ethan once in a lifetime. Don’t tell me about how you don’t know whether you love him yet because deep inside you know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing that face. Next time we get together—”


All this was too much. Kerri rallied herself. “Don’t be too confident there’ll be a next time.”

Barron leaned forward. “I like to be positive about the future. It’s better for my liver.” He smiled slightly, and there was a definite twinkle in his eye. “In any case, next time, bring him with you. I want to meet the fellow.”