Free Forbidden Son by Loretta C. Rogers Page B

hand,
indicated she should get in.
    She
smoothed down the green peddle-pushers she wore. The fabric felt fragile from
the many washings it had endured. She gave the driver a questioning glance as
she slid inside the car and settled on the plush black leather seat and drank
in the air-conditioned coolness. Sitting across from her was a
distinguished-looking man with features much like Tripp’s, but not the same.
Though he was sitting, she figured he must be about the same height as Tripp’s
six-foot stature. He wore a double-breasted navy blue suit. The diamond-studded
cufflinks could more than pay for an air conditioner for her parents.
    Wordlessly
they stared at each other. The silence made her uncomfortable. She waited for
him to speak. He didn’t. It took a moment for her to find her voice. “This is
an unexpected and a pleasant surprise, Judge Hartwell. It’s nice to meet you.”
    Extending
her hand forward, she felt awkward and embarrassed when he rebuffed the
gesture. Not schooled in etiquette, she feared she’d made a social blunder, and
eased her hands together, settling them on her lap. She swallowed, unable to
subdue a clamoring pulse.
    “H-has
something happened to Tripp...is he okay?”
    The
elder Hartwell reminded Honey Belle of a vulture sizing up his prey when he
reached inside his suit coat and withdrew a white envelope. He offered it to
her. Apparently, it was the puzzled look on her face that caused him to speak.
    Sarcasm
laced his voice. “Open it, Miss Garrett.”
    Once
she’d pulled the check from the envelope, she didn’t say a word. Lightheaded,
she tried to concentrate on all the zeros in the total amount, her heart racing
ahead of her brain. She tried to speak. The words stuck inside her throat.
    Evidently
Judge Hartwell mistook her silence as a demand for more money. “If ten thousand
isn’t enough, Miss Garrett, name your price.” The sardonic smile he offered
twisted his handsome features into an ugly snarl.
    “This
is a wonderful gift, Judge Hartwell. Tripp will be as pleased as I.”
    His
laughter mocked her. “I’m afraid you misunderstand, young woman. I have no
intention of allowing my son to marry the likes of you.”
    How
silly of me, to think the money was a wedding gift.
    “I
may not be a brilliant person, Judge, but I am smart enough to know an insult
when I hear one. Perhaps you’d better explain what you mean by ‘the likes of
me.’”
    His
angry tone startled Honey Belle. “You are the kind of woman who brings an
intelligent man down to her level. I have plans for my son’s career.”
    The
man reminded her of a puff adder ready to strike when he leaned forward. “Let
me be perfectly clear, Miss Garrett, these plans do not include
you.”
    A
thick fury rose inside Honey Belle, threatening to shut off her air. She tossed
the check toward Tripp’s father. “Tripp loves me, and we will be married,
whether you like it or not, Judge Hartwell.”
    “Don’t
press me, young woman. I’m a powerful man.”
    “I’m
not afraid of you.”
    He
settled back against the seat. His eyes locked with hers, his voice even and
deadly. “You should be. You see, with one phone call, I can arrange for you and
your mother to lose your jobs at the Burger Bin.” He accentuated the name of
her workplace as if reassuring her he knew where she worked. His hand swept
toward the tinted window. “And this pigsty you call home? I can arrange for the
landlord to kick you out. I can arrange it to where any hovel you try to rent
will be beyond your affordability. And don’t begin to think your parents will
get new jobs. I know about your father’s failing health, your mother’s lack of
skills, that you’re a high school dropout... Need I say more?”
    Honey
Belle sighed heavily. She blinked back the tears gathering behind her eyelids.
    “Ah,
my dear, don’t look so surprised. I know quite a bit about you and your
parents.”
    Mustering
as much courage as possible, she repeated herself.