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"I don't mean any disrespect," he continued, "but facts are facts, and the fact is that you're a child born out of wedlock, whereas Clara Sue here is a legitimate child. It seems to us she should be getting a bigger piece of the pie," he concluded.

"Is that so?" I said.

"Yeah, that's so," Clara Sue said, smiling. She looked at me triumphantly.

I looked from her to Charlie Goodwin and suddenly realized what it was that drew this man to her. Surely she had described her family situation to him, and he had thought there was gold to dig. Now that Charlie Goodwin believed he was so close to getting his hands on some big money, he looked like he could taste it. The tip of his tongue moved over his lips in anticipation of my surrendering some lucrative percentage of Cutler's Cove to Clara Sue.

"I'm afraid it isn't so, Clara Sue," I said. I rose from my chair, ready to divulge my own little surprise.

As I moved around the desk I couldn't help but recall the way Grandmother Cutler had looked down at me and spoken to me that first time we had met. Queenly stiff, she rained her orders and commands over me with a torrent of authority and power that made my knees knock. As slight as she was in build, she had a tremendous aura of authority about her and looked as if she could command the sky to clear or the clouds to storm. She wore her confidence like a steel rod in her back and filled her voice with strength and superiority. To challenge her seemed futile, even dangerous.

"What isn't so?" Clara Sue cried. I leaned back on my desk and folded my arms comfortably.

"That I'm illegitimate and you're legitimate."

Clara Sue started to laugh.

"I'm not kidding," I said quickly. Her laughter ended. "For years you've called me a bastard, and all along you've been no different yourself."

"What the hell are you saying?" she demanded. She rose up in her seat, ready to confront me. "What the hell are you saying?" she shrieked as my words sank in.

"What I'm saying, sister dearest, is that the man you thought was your father, wasn't," I said, relishing the shock on her face. "In fact, you have no Cutler blood in you at all." I turned to Charlie, whose face seemed to sink in, his cheeks growing hollow, his lips turning toward his mouth. Only his eyes remained wide, bulging.

"No Cutler blood . . . this is ridiculous!" Clara Sue screeched, gazing quickly at Charlie. "Don't believe anything she says. It's lies. All lies!"

"You don't have to believe anything I say; you don't have to listen to me. Just go to Mother and ask her outright who your real father is. Better yet," I smirked, standing away from the desk, "go ask Bronson Alcott."

Clara Sue glared up at me, the confidence draining from her face as the, possibility took shape in her thoughts. Charlie squirmed in his seat.

"Bronson," I continued, returning to my seat, "will tell you the truth now."

"You're lying. You're a filthy liar!" Clara Sue spat. "There's only one way to find out. As I said, go—"

"You go. You go to hell!" Clara Sue screamed. "None of this is true!"

"Hold on, Clara Sue," Charlie said. "Easy. Calm down."

"Easy? Calm down? She's making this all up just to stop us from getting my fair share."

"You never knew that Mother and Bronson had been lovers even before Mother married Randolph?" I asked. I saw from the way her eyes blinked that she had heard some rumors.

"That doesn't mean anything," she replied.

"No. Not in and of itself, it doesn't. But after my birth and subsequent disappearance Mother went to Bronson, and their love affair was revived. As a result, you were born.

Up until now the truth didn't matter, but if you and Charlie are going to pursue some legal vendetta, I guess it all has to come out."

"You bitch," Clara Sue said; standing. "You bitter, bitter bitch! You're just like her now. Just as hateful and . . . and mean. Come on, Charlie. We'll tell Mother what she said. You'll see. She's lying. Come on!" she shouted when Charlie didn't rush to get up. He rose quickly now. Clara Sue grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door.

"You're not finished with me, and I'm not finished with you," she threatened. I stared at her coldly.

"I think you're wrong about that, Clara Sue. Very wrong. We couldn't be more finished with each other than we are now," I said calmly. My glare and my controlled voice overwhelmed her. She simply turned and pulled Charlie out of the office with her, slamming the door behind her.

I sat back in my chair, my heart thumping. It felt good; I couldn't deny it. Shattering Clara Sue like that had been enjoyable. The shoe was on the other foot. Now she was the one to learn her life had been a lie, not me. The sad thing was that the only reason she would be upset was that she couldn't squeeze any more money out of me or the hotel, and not because her family was disrupted. Of course, it would probably lead to the end of her little romance with Charlie Goodwin, who, once he had it confirmed that Clara Sue wasn't the gold mine he had hoped she was, would drop her like a hot potato. Sadness and hardship, disappointment and pain would be the new building blocks of her world, I thought.

A few hours later Mother called me. I had been expecting it.

"Clara Sue and her friend just left here," she said. "How could you tell her? Why did you tell her?" she cried.

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