Harper, pale and sweaty, sat on the couch wrapped around Kip. “Should I talk to them?”
“That’s up to you. I’ll support any choice you make.” Kip hugged her.
She half laughed, half cried, “I loved Zayne asking him for his identification.”
“That isn’t half as fun as when he pat your father down, and Toni Ann pat your mom down.” Kip’s brow cocked.
“You’ll stay?” she asked.
“I won’t go anywhere unless you ask.” Kip picked up his phone. “Bring it on.”
Zayne knocked on the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Rousselle to see you, Mr. Brennan, Ms. Rousselle.”
“Come in.” Kip opened the door and pointed toward his couch. “Please sit.” Harper was seated in one of the chairs, and Kip took the other. Zayne stood with his back to the closed door.
“Mr. Brennan, you might want to keep better company,” Pierre said.
“Are you speaking about Mrs. Rousselle and yourself?” Kip’s expression was blank.
“Harper, it was surprising to see you here,” Rosalind said.
“Why is that? There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Harper said flatly.
“Harper, your mother and I, well, after the storm, there were so many lost. So much pain. And, well, we are reevaluating our position,” Pierre said.
Harper scoffed, “You bumped into Annabelle’s, Colette’s, Olivia’s or Vivian’s mother, didn’t you? They googled Kip for you. You heard about Jerrold and decided to adjust your behavior when you found out what Kip’s finances are like. He makes Jerrold’s worth chump change. And now, you’re salivating because Kip is also CEO here.”
Rosalind’s face looked like a fish. “Harper, please be reasonable.”
Harper shook her head. “Mother, here’s reasonable: I’m going to ask Mr. Wentworth to escort you and Dad out to your car. If you continue to pretend that you care about me, I will ask Mr. Wentworth to throw you down the elevator shaft.” Her voice was soft and pleasant.
Kip’s eyes twinkled.She is amazing.
Zayne coughed into his elbow.
“Well, if that’s how you’re going to speak to us!” Rosalind stood.
“Mr. Wentworth, would you show my parents to their car?” Harper asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Mr. and Mrs. Rousselle?” He opened the door.
As the door closed, Kip opened his arms. “It’s okay.”
“I don’t hate them. But why are they so miserable?” she cried.
All he could do was rub her back and hold her.
* * *
Brock was waitingat the pediatric floor’s nurse’s station with the hospital’s attorney to sign out the children to Harper. Kip stepped onto the unit, and staff started to flutter around. Kip seemed oblivious to their behavior, Harper thought.
“This is Harper Rousselle. And this is Mr. Bernville, Mrs. Matin’s attorney. This is Kip Brennan, hospital CEO, and this is Mr. Folcroft, the hospital attorney,” Brock made the introductions.
“Miss Rousselle, you becoming Babette and Desirée’s guardian was Adelaide’s wish. Mr. Carpenter provided me with a copy of your financials that show us your salary is sufficient to support the two girls.” Mr. Bernville scratched his dandruff-laden head. “You’re Pierre’s daughter.”
Harper’s temper flared. “What does that matter? You can’t hold my parentage against me. I’ve passed the financial check and background check on my own.”
“Mr. Bernville, Harper understands there will be a site visit and an interview with child protective services. I think you are finished here,” Brock said.
