Sheri WhiteFeather – Nashville Rebel (страница 7)

Tommy and Brandon had grown up in the same rich, privileged, crazy-ass house, but they were nothing alike. Still, they were as close as two completely opposite siblings could be. And lately, they’d banded together, helping their dad with his now three-year sobriety. They also supported their mom, a former supermodel, in her beauty-business endeavors, making investments and buying stock in her company. Mom had rebranded herself, and was starring in her own infomercials, selling cosmetics and skin-care products.

When Tommy first explained the donor situation over the phone, Brandon had reacted in a perfectly professional way. No personal opinions, no judgments. Even now, he was as cool as a corporate cucumber. He looked the part, too, in an impeccable gray suit, his short black hair slicked straight back, his chiseled jaw clean-shaven. He’d inherited regal qualities from their mother’s side. Tommy didn’t have any of that.

“I’d be glad to represent both you and Sophie,” Brandon was saying. “I can draw up what’s called a known-donor contract, clarifying the details you agreed upon. But first I’m going to consult with a colleague of mine who’s versed in this area of law. I want to be sure there aren’t any unforeseen events that we should include in the contract, things you and Sophie might’ve not considered.”

“Whatever you need to do.” He trusted his brother to get it done right. They were two years apart, with Brandon being older and obviously wiser. Besides, Tommy didn’t like to fuss with the business end of things.

The wiser one squinted. “I hate to bring this up, but has Sophie thought about who she would name as the child’s guardian in case she becomes incapacitated or dies? Family members are usually preferred, but Sophie doesn’t have any family. And since you’ll be signing away your rights, you wouldn’t have any legal claim on the minor. Not unless you petitioned the courts, and with you not wanting to have a direct role as the father, I don’t see you as doing that.”

Tommy’s gut tensed. The kid hadn’t even been conceived yet, and now they were discussing the possibility of the child becoming an orphan. When he thought about how Sophie’s mom had died, the tension inside him worsened. “I have no idea who she would name as guardian, but I’ll bring it to her attention. Then she can consult with you about it.”

Brandon looked him square in the eye. “Maybe she can appoint someone in our family. Mom would probably be willing to do it.”

“Yeah, she probably would.” Their mother was hoping for grandkids someday, and the likelihood was pretty damn close to nil if she had to rely on her sons. Brandon wasn’t any more settled than Tommy in that regard. “Mom and Dad probably aren’t going to like this donor decision of mine.” He’d decided to wait to tell them until he and Sophie worked out the legal details, and now there was the guardian issue she would need to consider, too.

“No, I don’t suspect they’ll like the idea of you being a donor. Knowing Mom, she’ll accept it easier than Dad will. She tends to be more pliable than he is. But it’s your life, not theirs.”

“Yeah, and considering the lives they’ve led, they don’t have a whole lot of room to talk.” Their parents used to have an agreement where their dad had been allowed to sleep with other women. Their mother’s only stipulation was that he wouldn’t father children with anyone except her, and he’d broken that vow when he’d sired Matt. “Do you think Mom was really okay with Dad screwing around like he did? Or do you think she just accepted it as part of what came with the territory?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never asked her about it. But she’ll be telling her side of the story in the biography, so it’s all going to become public, anyway. From my understanding, Matt’s mom has already been interviewed. Her story will be included, as well.”

“Well, I think our mom is a darned fine person for forgiving Dad and choosing to be friends with him again. It’s also nice of her to want to meet Matt and embrace him.”

Brandon nodded. “It’s going to be a heck of a get-together, all of us meeting up like that.”

Tommy scrubbed his hand over his face. “Remember when Mom first told us that Dad had another son out there, and how we wondered about him?” They’d been teenagers at the time. Tommy had just turned sixteen and Brandon had been a diligent eighteen-year-old, the senior class president of the private academy he’d attended. Tommy had chosen to go to public school, where Sophie and the rest of his friends were. “I never hated Matt for existing, but I hated Dad for hurting Mom.”

“I know how deeply it affected you. But everything about Dad has always been harder on you. You look more like him than I do. You’re a performer like he is. You’ve had to fight your way out from under his shadow, even when we were young.”

“It helps that I have a brother who understands.” Tommy smiled. “And they say lawyers are heartless sharks.”

Brandon flashed a lethal grin. “I have my moments.”

No doubt he did. But all Tommy saw was the good in him. “You always supported me, even when I got into trouble.”

His brother shrugged. “With the way you and Dad used to fight, I knew you needed someone on your side.”

“Those fights aren’t over yet. We had a raging argument not too long ago about Kara. He read me the riot act, even after I told him the baby wasn’t mine.”

“Did you call him on the carpet about Matt? About having a grown son he barely knows?”

Tommy blew out a sigh. “You bet I did. But he just babbled on about how much he’s changed and how focused he is on being a dad now. For someone who’s trying to atone for his mistakes and be a better parent, he doesn’t have a clue how to go about it.”

Brandon lifted a glass paperweight off his desk, looked at it and set it back down. “He’s been sending me gifts. For all the birthdays and Christmases he missed back in the day.” He glanced up. “Have you been getting presents from him, too?”

Tommy nodded. Along with a slew of other things, he’d received the same paperweight, containing a sentimental quote inside. “I know his heart is in the right place, but there’s only so much of his interference I can stand. Even when I try not to argue with him, I still lose my temper.”

“Do you want me to approach him about you and Sophie so this doesn’t turn into a battle?”

As tempting as the offer was, Tommy declined. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do my dirty work for me.”

“Are you sure? I’m good at smoothing things over.”

“Thanks, but I’ll handle it.” Tommy knew that he was doing the right thing by being Sophie’s donor, and no one, not even his dad, was going to take that away from him.

Sophie cringed. Tommy and his father were snapping at each other, deep in the throes of a heated argument. Now she wished that she wouldn’t have accompanied him to Kirby’s house. Mostly she’d only gone with him so she could talk to his mother, Melinda, about being named as the guardian for her child.

But she hadn’t gotten a chance to do that, not with the power struggle taking place between the men. Kirby didn’t like their plan at all. He’d blown up the moment Tommy had told him.

Melinda seemed okay with the idea, or was at least being supportive, the way a parent should be. She’d tried to ease the tension earlier, but her efforts had been in vain. The whole thing was getting out of control, and Sophie didn’t know what to do, either.

The four of them were in the main parlor of the plantation-style mansion, surrounded by the trappings of wealth and opulence. The entire compound had been dubbed Kirbyville by the press. Even the family had begun to call it that. And what a strange bunch they were, Sophie thought. There was nothing conventional about the Talbots, not with a patriarch like Kirby at the helm.

His maid had already brought in a pitcher of iced tea and served everyone, creating a formal atmosphere that had gone awry. Kirby looked like his usual legendary self, with his graying beard and signature black clothes. He paced back and forth, rugged and demanding. Melinda was dressed in white, making an angelic contrast to her ex-husband. At fifty-eight, she was as beautiful as ever, with her golden blond hair and tall, slim figure. She sat across from Sophie on a matching antique settee, heaving ragged sighs.

And Tommy...

He stood near a window, bathed in natural light, his hair mussed from running his hands through it.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re doing,” his dad was saying to him. “It’s not right.”

“Oh, really?” Tommy countered. “This from the guy who had a secret kid with one of his mistresses?” He glanced at his mom for a second, as if to apologize for being so blunt in front of her. Then he glared at his dad again.

Kirby grabbed his tea and took a swig, as if he was gulping down the bourbon he used to drink. “I never planned on having a baby with Matt’s mother.”

“And that makes it okay? You lied to all of us, and later you abandoned him, as if he didn’t matter. You’re the last person who should be giving advice.”

“Quite the contrary. I’m exactly the guy who needs to do it. I’m telling you, boy, if you’re not going to be the child’s father, then you need to remove yourself from the equation.”