Page 52 of Two of a Kind
Well, okay then.
The elevator went up and up until they reached the top floor. When the doors opened with a whisper-softwhoosh, Kayla got her first glimpse of the executive offices of Dumas Industries.
“This way, please.”
The guard escorted her across deep pile carpet, through frosted glass doors, past framed pictures of what she assumed were several generations of Dumas men, the CEOs from past to present. They all shared similar features, but it was when her eyes landed on the youngest of the portraits that her heart began to beat fast. She had known Spencer was rich and powerful, but seeing his portrait up there with the others made it seem even more real.
Doubt tried to weaken her determination. Was she doing the right thing in coming here, walking into his home turf? Maybe she should have tried calling again, or suggested meeting somewhere else, like a coffee shop or something to discuss ... things.
Too late now.
They bypassed several desks, receiving plenty of curious looks from the men and women who occupied them.
Kayla straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and ignored the urge to shrink and run back toward the elevator. They were just people. People in designer clothes whose annual income was ten times hers, but still people.
She was shown into a posh corner office of dark wood and fine leather. Her escort nodded once, then stepped outside and closed the door behind him. The air felt thick and heavy and smelled of expensive, unfamiliar cologne. It was hard to breathe.
“Welcome, Ms. O’Connell. Please, have a seat.”
A man stepped out of the shadows and into the light. Not Spencer, but an older version of him. The guard had taken her to the office of the wrong Dumas.
“I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake. I was looking for—”
“There’s been no mistake, Ms. O’Connell. Please, sit down.” The man spoke with an authoritative tone that sent a shiver down her spine.
She sat down.
“May I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thank you. Was there something you wanted to discuss, Mr. Dumas?”
“Blunt and to the point. I like that,” he said, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “All right, Ms. O’Connell, let’s forego the niceties and get right to it. I want you to stay away from my son.”
Apparently, Tristan Dumas was blunt and to the point, too. On the positive side, his words also lent credence to her theory that Spencer wasn’t behind the offer, which made all the difference in the world as far as she was concerned.
“And what does Spencer want?”
“Spencer is confused,” the older man said, as if speaking of a child instead of the CEO of a multi-million-dollar corporate empire. “He doesn’t know what he wants.”
“With all due respect, your son is a grown man capable of making his own decisions.”
“If that were true, Ms. O’Connell, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. For some unfathomable reason, you have muddied the waters. As you have no doubt already ascertained, I’m willing to go to great lengths to clear them up.”
“The question I have to ask myself, Mr. Dumas, is:whyare you willing to go to such lengths?”
He chuckled, a grating sound. “I can see why Spencer likes you. You have spirit. But don’t believe for one moment you are more than a passing dalliance. He will grow tired of you just as he does all his ... rebellious pursuits. I know it, and I think you know it, as well. Erase those stars from your eyes and take the offer while it’s still on the table, Ms. O’Connell. It is the best one you are going to get, and it’s only available for a limited time.”
