“Wait, Alyssa.” He quickly crossed the room to take hold of her upper arms. “Please, I need for you to hear what I have to say. Then, if you still want to resign, I promise I won’t try to stop you.”
“Is this the only way you’ll accept my resignation?” she asked, already knowing his answer.
“I’m afraid so, sweetheart.” He turned her to face him, then stepped back and motioned toward a sitting area by the doors. “Have a seat.”
“I’d rather not.”
“This may take a while.”
She shook her head. “Caleb, I don’t really think there’s any point in—”
He folded his arms over his wide chest. “I do.”
Suddenly feeling completely defeated, she walked over to sit down on the edge of one of the overstuffed armchairs. She stared at the folder on her lap. “Please make this quick.”
He was silent for a moment and she could tell he was waiting for her to look at him. But she couldn’t. If she did, she knew without question she’d fall apart.
“Everything I told you about myself is true, Alyssa,” he said quietly. “I grew up on a farm in central Tennessee and I have two brothers—Hunter O’Banyon and Nick Daniels.” He hesitated as if he didn’t like what he had to say next. “I’ve never lied to you. But I am guilty of omitting a few facts.”
“B-but you did lie to me,” she said, hating that her voice shook with emotion. She looked at him directly. “You told me you went to the University of Tennessee.”
He smiled sadly and shook his head. “I said there was no other team like the UT Vols. I never said I attended classes there.”
“But you knew what I’d think.”
Nodding, he ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m not proud of that. But it was easier to let you draw your own conclusions than it was to admit that I have nothing more than a high-school education.”
His expression grim, he sat on the end of the coffee table in front of her. When she noticed their knees were almost touching, she scooted back in the chair. If he touched her in any way, she feared she’d lose the tenuous hold she had on her feelings.
She watched him prop his forearms on his thighs and stare down at his loosely clasped hands. “I had an academic scholarship to go to UT at Knoxville, but I had to turn it down. Grandpa got sick that summer and I was needed at home to keep the farm going. Then later on, it was a matter of economics.”
There was deep regret in his tone and she could tell that his lack of a postsecondary education bothered him a lot. “There’s still time to get your degree.”
He shrugged. “I’m enrolled in night classes for the fall semester.”
She frowned. Something didn’t add up. “Now, hold it. Emerald Larson is your grandmother. Why couldn’t she have helped you out with school?”
“It wasn’t until last month that my brothers and I learned about each other and that we’re the product of the late Owen Larson sowing his wild oats.” He laughed humorlessly. “Until then, we didn’t have a clue who our father was or that we were related to one of the richest women in the world.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was joking,” he said, shaking his head. “But unfortunately, I’m not.”
She couldn’t begin to imagine what a shock that must have been for the three men. “How did you find out?”
“Luther Freemont showed up at the farm one day to tell me that I was needed in Wichita.” He looked as if he still had trouble believing it himself. “When I asked him who was making the request and why, he said he wasn’t at liberty to tell me. So, I told him to go to hell and went back to working on my tractor.”
“I take it he didn’t give up?”
Caleb shook his head. “My mom stepped in and told me that it was time to learn about my father and that she wanted me to go.”
“I don’t understand,” Alyssa said, wondering why it had been such a big secret. All things considered, she shouldn’t care. But she could see that he’d been deeply affected by what had taken place and she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Why hadn’t she told you who your father was?”
“That’s where it gets complicated.” Taking a deep breath, he added, “Emerald Larson knew about all of us, practically from the moment we were conceived. But she didn’t want us turning out like her son—our father.”
“So she didn’t acknowledge any of you until recently?” Alyssa couldn’t understand how Emerald Larson could live in the lap of luxury while denying her grandsons the opportunities that would have made their lives easier.
He shook his head. “She told us that she knew she’d made a lot of mistakes when she gave Owen everything he wanted, instead of giving him the time and attention he needed from her. She said she also knew that we’d have a better chance of turning out to be decent men if our lifestyle was more down-to-earth and we were raised by mothers who taught us the values that she’d failed to teach Owen.” He smiled. “As crazy as it sounds, Emerald was actually trying to protect us.”
Alyssa thought about it for a moment. “I guess, in a strange way, that makes sense.” She shook her head. “But it doesn’t explain why your mother failed to tell you about your father.”
His expression turned dark. “I’m still having a problem with this part of the whole sordid mess. Mom worked at one of the luxury hotels in Nashville. She was a young, naive country girl and Owen swept her off her feet. Then after he left town, Emerald contacted Mom through a private investigator while she was pregnant and arranged to support us with a modest monthly allowance. The only requirement was that Mom couldn’t tell anyone—including me—who my father was. Emerald even went so far as to have Mom sign a legal agreement stating that if she divulged who had gotten her pregnant that I would be cut out of inheriting any part of Emerald, Inc. and the Larson fortune. She did the same thing with Hunter’s and Nick’s mothers.”
Alyssa could understand Mrs. Larson’s not wanting the boys to turn out like their father. No one in their right mind would want to see a child grow up to be a hedonistic, irresponsible adult, which she’d heard Owen Larson had been before the boating accident that had claimed his life six months ago. But what Caleb was describing that Emerald Larson had required of the women sounded suspiciously like blackmail.