Six Hot Summer Nights. Leslie Kelly
sickening pit bottomed out in his stomach. Nothing, absolutely nothing good was going to come from the next few minutes. Of that he was certain.
“Why are you upset?” he asked, fear of the unknown gripping at his chest.
“These are tears of joy,” his mother assured him. “And a little of fear, I must say.”
“Come sit, Bronson.” Victoria shifted on the sofa and smiled. “I’m sure whatever Mom has to say is very important.”
“If it’s that important, maybe just family should be here.”
Why was Anthony looking so … comfortable? What the hell did the man have to do with anything that his mother could have to say?
“Actually, that’s precisely what I need to talk to you both about,” Olivia said. “Family. Bronson, I want you to promise not to speak until I’m done talking.”
He never, ever liked the sound of that, especially coming from his own mother. Who wanted to give up the right to interrupt when the conversation wasn’t going in a satisfactory direction?
“Bronson?” she asked.
“Fine.”
Olivia came to her feet, crossed the room to stand in front of the French doors that opened on to the patio. Silence settled into the room and Bronson knew his mother was having a hard time voicing her thoughts. Whatever she wanted to say obviously upset her.
And there was no script to follow in real life.
Olivia smiled. “I never thought this day would come. I dreamed of how I’d handle it, but I never thought it would be a reality.”
Victoria reached over and grabbed Bronson’s hand, and honestly he wanted that connection. Who knew what was going to come next from his mother’s lips.
“I was at a pivotal point in my career nearly forty years ago,” she went on. “I had one of the biggest roles of my life handed to me without an audition. The industry adored me. I had never been so alive, so happy. I was only twenty years old, and I was pregnant by a man I didn’t love enough to marry.”
Bronson drew his brows together, biting his tongue because that wasn’t right. His mother was twenty-five when he was born, and he knew she’d loved his father.
“I panicked because I was not ready to be a mother. I was still working on my career and knew that if I had a baby, I wouldn’t put his needs before mine. I admit I was selfish, but I also admit that an abortion was out of the question. I wanted this baby to have a good life, and I was wealthy enough that I could buy a private adoption and pay any lawyer and judge to keep this from leaking to the press.
“And I did.”
Victoria squeezed Bronson’s hand. Whether she was scared or because she wanted him to keep his promise of silence, he didn’t know.
“Anthony is the son I gave up for adoption.”
“This is preposterous.” Bronson came to his feet. “Price, what have you told my mother? Did you dig up this dirt on her about an adoptive child and now you’re blackmailing her?”
Anthony shook his head. “What would I blackmail her for, Bronson? I have everything I want and I could buy anything else.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
Olivia stepped forward. “Bronson, calm down. I’ve known Anthony was my son from the moment I gave birth to him. I gave him up for adoption and kept track of him all this time. He’s not lying, and quite honestly, I’m shocked he found out and came to me. I paid a lot of money to keep this hidden.”
Anthony sighed. “It wasn’t easy. I’ve had my attorneys and a detective looking for my birth parents for well over a year. I didn’t think they’d uncover anything, but about nine months ago they did.”
Nine months?
“You’ve known for all this time?” Bronson clenched his fists at his side. “Why wait this long to come forward?”
Bronson stared at the man he’d loathed for so many years. Now that he knew the truth, he noticed they had exactly the same eyes and facial structure … just like their mother.
Anthony ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, my home life hasn’t been the best, as I’m sure you’ve heard. I’m trying to work on my marriage, and I’m fumbling through assistants since mine came to work for Olivia.”
Mia. Another time line perked Bronson up even more.
“Does Mia know about this?”
Anthony stared without saying a word, and dammit, Bronson knew.
How the hell could she keep something like this from him? Maybe this really was some scheme devised by Anthony and Mia.
The mother of his child.
One crisis at a time.
“So now what?” Bronson asked, turning to his mother. “I hope you don’t expect me to accept him as my brother. I never liked him before, and I sure as hell don’t like him now.”
“Bronson,” Victoria’s soft, smooth voice cut through his anger. “Nobody is asking you to do anything. The truth is out there, now we just have to deal with it.”
“The truth?” He laughed. “If Mother had been so worried about the truth, she would’ve told us years ago.”
“And disrupt the only life Anthony had ever known?” Olivia interjected. “I made my choice to give him a better life, and I wasn’t going to push my way back in. I couldn’t afford to tell anyone.”
“All these years Bronson and I feuded were hell on you, I’m sure,” Anthony said to Olivia.
Olivia’s eyes filled, and one tear slid down her aged cheek. “It was torture to see my children always at odds.”
“This isn’t happening,” Bronson muttered to himself. “This cannot be happening.”
“I assure you,” Anthony said. “I’m no more thrilled that we’re related than you are.”
Bronson walked to his mother, angry at her for keeping something so … life-altering from him all these years, but at the same time heartbroken because he couldn’t imagine giving up a child.
“Mom.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I honestly don’t know what to say here. I want to be angry with you, but I can see you’re at war with yourself. I can’t welcome him into the family. I just can’t.”
Olivia sniffed against his polo and nodded. “I know, son. My only wish is that you two will cease this feud and at least try to get along.”
Bronson doubted that would happen, but he’d appease his mother. “I’ll do my best.”
He eyed Anthony over his mother’s shoulder. The illegitimate brother stared back, a knowing look passing between them. Anthony wasn’t any more eager to have Bronson for a brother, and that was perfectly fine.
Because this whole brother thing was a non-issue as far as he was concerned. What was a concern was Mia. The woman he’d made a baby with, trusted and started falling in love with.
She’d betrayed him even more than his mother—though he hated to call what his mother had done betrayal. She’d given up the child nearly forty years ago and had reasons for keeping it a secret.
Mia, though, had known from the second she’d stepped out wearing only a towel that he was Anthony’s brother. And she’d never said a word. Never even hinted at the fact.
Bronson eased back, keeping an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “What did you promise Mia for keeping silent about this?” he asked Anthony.
“Nothing. I asked her to keep this to herself until I had a chance to talk to Olivia.”