Michael's Father (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Melinda Curtis

  Salvatore Messina sat in a large, black leather chair behind a sturdy oak desk. He gestured to the worn, red leather chairs across from him. As Blake and Cori took their seats, Mr. Messina’s eyes watched them in curious silence.

  Never one to stand on ceremony, Blake wasted no time. “A sharpshooter’s been found in the vineyard.”

  This apparently had not been what Mr. Messina was expecting, for his face paled. Although Mr. Messina had been still before now, Blake swore his employer froze.

  “Where?”

  “By the front drive. We’ve only found one so far.”

  “The new vines?” Salvatore Messina had a keen mind for a man his age.

  Blake nodded.

  “I want the contact information for the company that sold us those vines forwarded to our lawyer.” Mr. Messina’s words were sharp.

  Blake nodded again. What could he say? He was sorry? The company who’d sold them the vines was going to be plenty sorry.

  “Who found it?”

  “Michael.” Cori spoke for the first time since entering the room. “Blake was teaching him about vines.”

  Salvatore Messina’s expression wobbled. Blake almost thought he was about to smile, but it hardly seemed the reaction one would have to such news. Then Mr. Messina’s expression darkened. He regarded Cori cynically. “Are you here for a reward?”

  “No, I thought…” Cori’s voice trailed off. She met her grandfather’s eyes squarely before repeating “No.”

  She’d thought, what? She could witness her grandfather falling apart? Gloat in his misfortune? That didn’t sound like Cori, although Mr. Messina seemed to think as much. Blake had never witnessed such an interchange between Mr. Messina and his granddaughter before the awards dinner. Was this the way he’d always treated her? Cori’s need to be independent suddenly gained more credence.

  “And you.” Salvatore Messina’s words cut into Blake’s thoughts, even as his expression turned bitter. “I trusted you to watch over my vineyards. Your attention has been spread too thin between your duties for me and what you’ve been doing at the house.”

  Blake felt his employer’s cold words wash through him. Despite Salvatore Messina’s displeasure, Blake wouldn’t stop helping Sophia when the end was so near.

  “You’ll keep focused from now on. I’ll tell Maria you’re not allowed inside the house anymore.”

  “What?” Blake couldn’t stop himself. “Sophia needs me. She won’t let you hire a nurse.”

  “She won’t know at this point. If you can’t manage to turn this around, I’ll be looking for a new field manager.”

  Mr. Messina’s reaction was just as Cori had predicted. “Let’s wait and see what happens tomorrow before we jump to any conclusions,” Blake advised.

  “I don’t need someone who waits around.”

  “I’m doing everything to control the situation.” Blake was finding it difficult to hold his temper.

  “That’s enough.” Cori’s severe tone stopped them both.

  Salvatore Messina shot Cori a venomous look, then looked at Blake. “I hadn’t realized my granddaughter was such a distraction to you until now.”

  Cori leaped out of her seat and stepped in front of Blake. “Stop right there. Blake has been at Mama’s side these past few weeks more than either you or Luke, and still works long hours for you.”

  Blake couldn’t see her face, but when he leaned a little to the left, he could see Mr. Messina’s rigid features. The man had eyes only for his granddaughter. For a moment, Blake thought he read surprise on his face, then Mr. Messina’s expression changed. Hardened.

  Grandfather and granddaughter stared at each other in silence as seconds ticked by on the cuckoo clock behind them. Blake didn’t know what was happening, other than that smoke was steaming out of both their ears. He decided it was time for him to leave.

  “I’ve called several noted experts. They’ll be inspecting the vineyard tomorrow.” Blake tried to reassure Mr. Messina, but all he got for his efforts was a curt nod. Was Blake finally seeing what Cori had been trying to tell him? Or was this just Mr. Messina’s unpleasant reaction to the stress of having discovered his vineyards were in danger?

  Blake stood.

  “Wait.” Cori turned, raised a hand to stop him. “It’s time.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “YOU LIVED UP TO YOUR END of the bargain. I’m keeping my word, as well,” Cori said, looking directly into her grandfather’s eyes. She took a deep breath. “Blake is Michael’s father.”

  Blake jerked as if connected to a live wire. She’d given him no warning that she’d chosen this moment to tell her grandfather. Hadn’t they had enough bad news for one day? Mr. Messina stared at Cori for a moment, then looked darkly at Blake. The cold hand of uncertainty clutched Blake’s gut. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “I should have known.” Mr. Messina looked from one to the other, his gaze landing sharply again on Blake. “This explains why Sophia wanted to keep promoting you.”

  Blake fell back in his chair as if he’d been struck. He’d been promoted quickly, but deservedly so. At least, that’s what he’d thought.

  “It certainly wasn’t for your expertise. Look at where you’ve landed me now.”

  “Nobody can protect you from the sharpshooter.” Cori was quick to rise to Blake’s defense, as well she should since she was the cause of his imminent demise.

  “How do I know he didn’t check the vines carefully? In my day, loyalty stood for something. Men didn’t work your fields during the day and sleep with your granddaughter at night. It makes me doubt his skill.”

  “You make it sound like I’m a piece of your property,” Cori sputtered.

  Numbly, Blake tried to follow the conversation, tried to throw out a defense, but his brain stumbled repeatedly over something Cori had said.

  “Could we slow down for just a minute?” Blake interrupted, leaning forward.

  Both members of the Messina clan turned their attention on Blake.

  “What bargain?” Blake asked.

  Cori blushed and looked out the window.

  “What? You only told your grandfather about me because of some deal you made?” Anger at Cori’s betrayal charged bitterly through Blake’s system. She was putting herself first again. “You never were going to tell me about Michael, were you?”

  “Yes, I was—but think the worst, you always do,” Cori responded weakly.

  Cori kept her back to him and Blake found himself doubting her words once again. He looked to Mr. Messina. The old man said nothing.

  “So now I get the Messina silence?” Blake shifted restlessly in the chair. His whole life was a sham. His job. His feelings. He had nothing to go on but gut instinct. “Which means you don’t think I’m good enough to be told the truth.”

  Cori whipped around and opened her mouth to speak, but Salvatore Messina beat her to it.

  “I had no idea your confidence was that shallow,” Mr. Messina said.

  “Don’t,” she admonished, although Blake wasn’t sure whom she meant to curtail.

  “Well, surely the boy knows I wouldn’t hire an idiot, much less promote him.” Mr. Messina tilted his head to one side and shrugged, his answer belying his previously indicated lack of faith. “How would I look with fools working for me?”

  “Why does it always have to come back to you?” Cori said. “You claimed my pregnancy would weaken the winery.”

  “It did, didn’t it? You left and we all had to step in to take up the slack,” Mr. Messina snapped.

  “You wanted to punish Michael’s father, either by ruining him or by forcing us into marriage and then paying him to leave.”

  A chill thundered down Blake’s spine as he realized that he’d been right. Cori hadn’t returned to the winery at all after her graduation because of him. Yet, he couldn’t believe the nerve of these two, playing with his life as if he were a chess piece. She should have told him.

  Mr. Messina held up one hand. �
�I’ve often regretted letting my temper get the best of me that day.”

  “And the threats against Blake?” Cori pushed, avoiding Blake’s stare.

  Deadly eyes took aim at Blake. “That’s still an option.”

  “Wait a minute.” Blake’s anger burned his earlier apprehension to ashes. “I haven’t been involved in any of this.”

  “Immaculate conception?” Salvatore Messina asked, silver brows arched.

  Control. Blake had to wrest control of the situation. “Let’s go back to the beginning where you threatened me behind my back.”

  Salvatore Messina didn’t even blink. “I never knew it was you I was threatening.”

  “Would it have made a difference?”

  “Hell, yes. I would have fired you like that.” Mr. Messina snapped his fingers crisply.

  Blake and Jennifer would have been out on the street. Even though he’d suspected as much, Blake was furious with Cori for not telling him about Michael and about nearly losing his job and his home without even knowing why. He glared at Cori, but she seemed to have checked out of the conversation. He couldn’t allow that.

  “Why didn’t you want to marry me?” Blake cursed his voice for coming out rough and weak. “I thought love was supposed to conquer all.”

  She shook her head sadly and answered without turning. “Because my grandfather would have made your life a daily hell and what little love we shared would never have been enough.”

  “And the deal you two made…?” Blake prompted.

  “I’d find John Sinclair and get him to visit. In return, Corinne would fill in your name on the birth certificate.”

  He’d been burned again by her hidden agenda. “I thought you said your father refused to come out here, Cori.” Blake ground out the words.

  “He did refuse. But he sent flowers to Mama this morning.”

  There was a pause, and then Mr. Messina admitted, “I sent the flowers.”

  “You?” Cori covered her hand with her mouth and shook her head, eyes filled with tears. “That’s so wrong.”

  Blake silently agreed, but feigned indifference.

  Mr. Messina shrugged, but his eyes lowered to his desk. “If it makes her happy, what does it matter?”

  “Because I’ll know.” Cori moved next to the window, her back to them once more. She gripped the heavy burgundy drapes with one white-knuckled hand.

  “I’m not the least bit remorseful,” Mr. Messina said, baring his teeth at Blake.

  “Don’t look at me.” Blake tapped his chest. “I didn’t know I was the father until a few days ago.”

  Mr. Messina frowned. “You didn’t think to call Cori when she didn’t come home? You weren’t man enough to make sure nothing happened?”

  “Maybe in the back of my mind I assumed I’d be told if she got pregnant.” He pointed at Cori. “Besides, she left me. Not the other way around. I’ve been lied to, many times, and now I’m being threatened.”

  Mr. Messina shrugged, his hands palms up toward Blake. “Taught a lesson. It’s an entirely different thing.”

  “I’m sure my lawyer will think otherwise.” Blake leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He wished Cori would argue with him and tell him she was sorry so he could hope. She’d always left him with that bit of hope.

  “‘Taught a lesson’ is a family phrase, that’s all.” Mr. Messina smiled, but the expression lacked humor. “You should feel…uncomfortable.”

  “Like cement shoes?” Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been watching The Sopranos again?”

  “Something like that.” Mr. Messina’s smile didn’t change.

  Certain that his boss was enjoying this too much, Blake tossed up his hands. “I’ve tried to be a good employee. I’ve tried to pay back the kindnesses you and Sophia extended.”

  Mr. Messina rolled his eyes.

  “I’ve even tried loving her.” Blake jabbed his finger in Cori’s direction, wanting her to turn around and fight for their love. Maybe then he’d be able to rein in his temper. “And it’s taken this to make me realize what a waste of time my tenure here has been. I’m giving my notice.”

  Cori kept her back to them, refusing to join the conversation.

  “Don’t get excited and say something you’ll regret later,” Mr. Messina warned with a quick glance at his granddaughter.

  “You were going to fire me, anyway.”

  “I was not. You’re family now. You and Corinne will get married and settle down, and provide my great-grandchild with a name.”

  “Didn’t you hear a word I said? I can’t stay here. I can barely bring myself to look at the two of you.” He stood. “And you won’t keep my son from me any longer. I’m hiring a lawyer and petitioning for my paternal rights.”

  Blake waited for Cori to say something, to turn around and argue or plead her case. She’d said she loved him. He clung to those words. Yet, she remained silently facing the window.

  Finally, feeling the fool he was, Blake walked out alone.

  CORI DIDN’T WATCH Blake Austin walk out of her life. Her tear-blurred vision saw only a watercolor vineyard. Blake had every right to be angry. She couldn’t say anything in defense of what she’d done, other than that she’d done it to protect him. If he couldn’t see that, if that wasn’t enough, if he thought the worst of everything she did, it was only lust and they weren’t meant to be together. She’d somehow manage to piece her heart back together and move on.

  “That could have gone better.” Her grandfather broke the silence.

  How was she going to handle Blake’s temper when he came to visit Michael? Cori gave in to her shaky legs and sank to the floor. She wanted to cry. Her grandfather would love that. Where was all that Messina strength when she needed it?

  “Here, now. None of that,” her grandfather said. She heard him struggle to rise from his leather chair. “He’ll come back.”

  Shaking her head, Cori closed her eyes against the burgundy drapes. They were the color of hearts and deep, lasting love. Her mother was dying, her grandfather wanted her out of his life and Blake hated her. Love would forever elude her.

  “Give him time. He’ll come around.” A large hand gently stroked her hair. Cori couldn’t keep a sob from escaping. It wasn’t fair. Her family was capable of such love and kindness, yet somehow they couldn’t make it work.

  There was a time when she’d have taken his words and actions at face value, believing she came before Messina Vineyards. That time had passed years ago. Cori moved her head to the side and stood, breaking away from her grandfather’s touch.

  “It’s a little too late for comfort, don’t you think?” Cori filled her lungs with air, hoping to bolster her strength, as well. She turned and faced her grandfather, taking two steps away from him, not wanting to see his frailties. “You can’t force a family on anyone. It didn’t work with my father. It didn’t work for me. You got what you wanted, so just leave me alone—” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  Cori’s feet couldn’t move fast enough across the oriental carpet to the door. It wasn’t until she’d fled the building and was following a dirt road by the riverbank that she questioned whether it was her imagination or whether she’d actually heard her grandfather say “I can’t do that,” as she walked out of his office.

  A SHORT TIME LATER, Cori slowly climbed the stairs to her mother’s bedroom. She stood on the threshold looking at the bright flowers on the other side of the room. This morning they’d been a promise that everything was going to turn out all right. Now they were the banner proclaiming her grandfather still ruled everything.

  Mama was alone. On the way up Cori had passed through the kitchen, where Maria was refreshing her coffee mug. Michael and Jen were also in the kitchen, wolfing down yesterday’s homemade cookies.

  Movement by the bed caught Cori’s eye.

  “Mama, are you awake?” Maybe something good would come of this day.

  “I don’t feel so good.” Mama’s face paled. “I think I�
��m going to throw up.”

  Cori grabbed the trash can by the desk and rushed to the bed, lifting Mama into an upright position with the can in front of her. Just in time, too. Mama vomited into it. The liquid was thick and dark, but there wasn’t much of it.

  Odd, Cori thought, that it would be that color, when all Sophia had in her stomach was a little water and nutrients from the IV tube at the hospital.

  She settled her mother back on the pillows, then went to the bathroom for a wet washrag.

  “I think I’m over the worst of it,” Mama murmured as Cori gently wiped her face.

  Not knowing what to say, Cori remained silent, grateful that her mother’s mind was finally clear. She could use some good news.

  “Do you think I’ll be okay?” Mama asked.

  “You’ll be fine,” Cori lied through threatening tears. Now that Mama wasn’t throwing up anymore, Cori’s spirits lifted. Her mother had returned.

  “I’ve seen you and Blake together. More lovely grandchildren for me,” Mama murmured weakly.

  Cori didn’t comment. Remembering how Blake had left her earlier, she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Poor Luke and Papa are in for a bit of trouble.” Mama sighed, barely a wisp of air. “I’m so tired.” She closed her eyes. “It’s okay, though. Eventually, everything will be okay.”

  Cori cradled Mama’s hand within hers. She rubbed her right hand over Mama’s wrist and forearm. It took her a few minutes to notice Mama’s chest wasn’t moving. Placing her thumb at Mama’s wrist, Cori felt for a heartbeat.

  “Mama?”

  Nothing. Cori’s hands started to shake, her stomach convulsed.

  Cori’s eyes strayed to the telephone on the bedside table. She reached for the receiver. Then the paper with Mama’s wishes resting next to the phone caught Cori’s eye and her hand hovered midair. This was the way Mama wanted it. She had to honor her request, no matter how wrong it felt. Didn’t she?

  Muffled footsteps sounded behind her. Cori twisted around in panic, speaking before she saw who it was.