His Son, Her Secret. Sarah M. Anderson
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and ingredients and people than his own brand name.
It’d been a year. A year of working his way up the food chain, from no-star restaurants to one-star Michelin establishments to El Gallio, a three-star restaurant—one of the highest-ranked places in the world. He had made a name for himself that had absolutely nothing to do with his father and the Beaumonts, and he was damned proud of that. Would he really give all that up to come home for good?
More than anything, he liked the near total anonymity of life in Europe. There, no one cared that he was a Beaumont or that he’d left the States under a swirling cloud of gossip. No one gave a damn what happened with the Beaumont Brewery or Percheron Drafts or what any of his siblings had done to make headlines that day.
No one thought about the long-running feud between the Beaumonts and the Harpers that had led to the forced sale of the Beaumont Brewery.
No one thought about Byron and Leona Harper.
And that was how he liked it.
Leona...
If he were going to move back home, he knew he’d have to confront her. They had unfinished business and not even a year in Europe could change that. He wanted to look her in the face and have her tell him why. That’s all he wanted. Why had she lied to him for almost a year about who she really was? Why had she picked her family over him? Why had she thrown away everything they’d planned—everything he’d wanted to give her?
In the course of the past year, Byron had worked and worked and worked to forget her. He had to accept the fact that he might not ever forget her or her betrayal of him—of them. Fine. That was part of life. Everyone got their heart ripped out of their chest and handed to them at least once.
He didn’t want her back. Why would he? So she and her father could try to destroy him all over again?
No, what he wanted was a little payback.
The question was how to go about it.
Then he remembered something. Before it’d all fallen so spectacularly apart, Leona had been in school for industrial design. They’d talked about the restaurant they’d open together, how she’d design it and he’d run it. A blank slate that was theirs and theirs alone.
It’d been a year. She might have a job or her own firm or whatever. If he hired her, she would work for him. She would have to do as he said. He could prove that she didn’t have any power over him—that she couldn’t hurt him. He was not the same naive boy who’d let love blind him while he worked for an egomaniac. He was a chef. He would have his own restaurant. He was his own boss. He was in charge.
He was a Beaumont, damn it. It was time to start acting like one.
“I can use whomever I want to do the interior design?”
“Of course,” Chadwick and Matthew said at the same time.
Byron looked at the workroom and then through the doors to the dungeon of the old warehouse. “I cannot believe I’m even considering this,” he muttered. He could go back to Spain, back to the new life he’d made for himself, free of his past.
Except...
He would never be free of his past, not really. And he was done hiding.
He looked at his brothers and Serena, each hopeful that he would come back into the family fold.
This was a mistake. But then, when it came to Leona, Byron would probably always make the worst choice.
“I’ll do it.”
* * *
“Leona?” May’s voice came through the speaker on her phone.
Leona hurriedly picked up before her boss, Marvin Lutefisk, head of Lutefisk Design, could hear the personal call. “I’m here. What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Percy’s a little fussy. I think he might have another ear infection.”
Leona sighed. “Do we still have some drops from the last round?” She could hardly afford another hundred-dollar trip to the doctor, who would look at Percy’s ears for three seconds and write a prescription.
But the other option wasn’t much better. If Percy got three—now two—more ear infections, they would have to talk about putting tubes in his ears, and even that minor outpatient surgery was far beyond Leona’s budget.
“A little bit...” May sounded unconvincing.
“I’ll...get some more,” Leona announced. Maybe she could sweet-talk the nurses into a free sample?
Just like she’d done nearly every single day since Percy’s birth, Leona thought about how different things would be if Byron Beaumont were still in her life. It wouldn’t necessarily solve her health care issues, but her little sister May treated Leona as if she had the means to fix any problem, anytime.
Just once Leona wanted to lean on someone, instead of being the one who took all the weight.
But daydreaming about what might have been didn’t pay the bills, so she told May, “Listen, I’m still at work. If he gets too bad, call the pediatrician. I can take him in tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. You’ll be home for dinner, right? I have class tonight, don’t forget.”
“I won’t.” Just then, her boss walked past her cubicle. “Gotta go,” she whispered and hung up.
“Leona,” Marvin said in his nasal tone. Unconsciously, he reached up and patted his comb-over back into position. “Busy?”
Leona put on her best smile. “Just finishing up a client phone call, Mr. Lutefisk. What’s up?”
Marvin smiled encouragingly, his eyes beaming at her through thick lenses. He really wasn’t a bad boss—that she knew. Marvin was giving her a chance to be someone other than Leon Harper’s daughter, and that was all she could ask. That and the chance to get her foot in the door of industrial design. Leona had always dreamed of designing restaurants and bars—public spaces where form and function blended with a practical application of art and design. She hadn’t really planned on doing storefronts for malls and the like, but everyone had to start somewhere.
“We’ve had an inquiry,” Marvin said. “For a new brewpub on the south side of the city.” Marvin tilted his head to the side and gave her a look. “We don’t normally do this sort of thing here at Lutefisk Design but the caller asked for you specifically.”
A trill of excitement coursed through her. A restaurant? And they’d asked for her by name? This was good. Great, even. But Leona remembered who she was talking to. “Are you comfortable with me being the primary on this one? If you’d rather handle it yourself, I’d be happy to assist.”
It hurt to make the offer. If she was the primary designer instead of the assistant, she’d get a much bigger percentage of the commission and that could be more than enough to cover Percy’s medical costs. She could pay off some of May’s student loans and...
She couldn’t get ahead of herself. Marvin was very particular about the level of involvement his assistants engaged in.
“Well...” Marvin pushed his glasses up. “The caller was very specific. He requested you.”
“Really? I mean, that’s great,” Leona said, trying to keep her cool. How had this happened? Maybe that last job for an upscale boutique on the Sixteenth Street Mall? The owner had been thrilled with the changes Leona had made to Marvin’s plan. Maybe that’s where the reference came from?
“But he wants you to survey the site today. This afternoon. Do you have time?”
She almost said hell, yes! But she managed to slam the brakes on her mouth. Years of trying to keep her father happy when he was in one of his moods had trained her to say exactly what a man in a position of authority needed to hear. “I need to finish up the paperwork for that stationery store...”