Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(49)

“Oh.” Reggie went to sit on the arm of Delinda’s chair. “Well, no wonder you’re all fucked-up. I get it now.” He gave her shoulder a pat.

Delinda almost told him to remove his hand from her, but she felt another hand on her other shoulder. She looked up to see Michael standing beside her. Reggie had become Eric’s family just as surely as Michael had become hers. She would learn to love him. She gave each of their hands a pat.

Tears filled her eyes. “All I ever wanted was for my family to have better than I did. Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but I never meant to hurt any of you.” She dabbed at her tears. “I tried to keep Rachelle safe in Vandorra, and I failed her as well.”

“I’m still here,” Rachelle said. “You didn’t fail me.”

“We’ve all made mistakes,” Brett said. “Not one of us is perfect.”

“Nope, not one of you is. I’ve never seen a more messed-up family,” Reggie said, then smiled. “No offense.”

Hailey added, “Everyone here knows you mean well, Grandmother. It’s just sometimes the methods you employ that—”

“I know. I know.” Delinda waved a hand in the air. “I go too far. Let’s move past that, on to something helpful like suggestions.”

Spencer jumped in. “Delinda Westerly, my wife is attempting to make you feel better.”

Hailey countered kindly, “She’s not upset with me. She’s upset with herself.”

Alessandro cleared his throat loudly. “If you want my opinion, and since I’m here I’m guessing you do, you should start by apologizing to this Sage woman.”

Delinda glanced up at Reggie. “You really think she’s good for Eric?”

He nodded. “She’s his odd duck.”

Delinda blinked a few times. “I don’t know what that means, but I’ll take that as a yes.”

Alisha chimed in, “I think what he means is that she’s different, but she’s Eric’s kind of different.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Reggie said.

Delinda took a moment to consider her options. “I could host an event and arrange for her—”

“No,” they all said in unison.

“Or I could”—she looked at each of them again and resigned herself to her fate—“apologize to her and promise Eric that I won’t get involved in his personal business again.” She sniffed loudly. “He said I was dead to him.”

“He didn’t mean that. He was angry, Delinda,” Alessandro said gently. “He had a right to be.”

“I wouldn’t have actually had her arrested or ruined her father’s business,” Delinda said.

“Now she’s kidding,” Magnus said with confidence.

“No,” the others said in unison again.

Delinda rose to her feet. “Thank you all for meeting with me. I now know what I must do.”

Brett said, “Grandmother, would you like to see Linda before you go?”

A smile instantly spread across Delinda’s face, and she stood. “Is she awake? I would love to.”

Brett held his young daughter up to the camera, and Delinda cooed to her. She said, “Dee Dee,” and smiled, reaching her hands out in request for Delinda to pick her up.

Hailey added, “Skye will be sad she missed talking to you. We’d love to sign back on again this evening. Perhaps you could read her a story?”

Tears filled Delinda’s eyes once again. “I would love that.”

“Do you think now is the time to share our news?” Rachelle asked.

Magnus nodded.

“We’re having twins.”

Overcome with gratitude and love for her family, Delinda placed a hand over her heart. “We may not be your average family, but I wouldn’t change a single one of you.”

She waited for them to say the same. When they didn’t, she waved them off and ended the connection.

“That’s my cue to go,” Reggie said.

“Reggie,” Delinda said, “thank you for all you do for Eric, and for coming here today.”

Reggie nodded. “I hope you sort this out. Family’s important.”

“Yes, it is.” Delinda smiled at Michael. “And I’m very lucky to have the one I do—both the ones by blood and the ones by choice.”

Michael flushed, then cleared his throat. “I’ll walk you to the door, Mr. Pines.”





Chapter Twelve

Sage was gathering up her purse and phone when she heard a horn blaring from the street below. Rolling her eyes at the lack of consideration some people had for others, she almost ignored it, but it was so insistent that she went to her window. She half expected to see a car pileup or a street altercation in progress.

Her jaw dropped when she realized what the honking was for. The street was at a complete stop. People had gotten out of their vehicles to take pictures of Eric Westerly, standing half out of a long white limo with a bouquet of red roses in one hand. It looked like the final scene of a romantic comedy, and not one Sage ever imagined herself starring in. She stepped back from the window.

Was this his idea of an apology? A public spectacle? She didn’t want this—she wanted answers. Unable to leave through the front of the building, she decided to slip out the back. She made it as far as the alley before realizing that that, too, was blocked. Eric was at the entrance of it looking up at the fire escape as if he were about to scale it. The crowd surged and ebbed against a small army of security.