More accurately, what’s best for you, Spencer thought.
Patricia Coxton-Jennings-O’Connell-Davidson had the parenting instincts of a pit viper. She and his father would get along famously. Thank God Kayla was nothing like her mother.
And he was nothing like his father.
“Mrs. Davidson, where is Kayla now?”
Her eyes glistened, and her lips curled upward in a greedy smile. “Why, at Dumas Industries, of course.”
Chapter Thirty
Kayla got back into her car and drove through Pine Ridge to the Corporate Headquarters of Dumas Industries.
As the attractive receptionist was explaining yet again how seeing Mr. Dumas was impossible without an appointment, a swarthy, muscular man in an expensive, dark suit came over and spoke quietly into the woman’s ear.
Kayla pegged him immediately as a member of security, and prepared herself for an escort right out the front door.
“Come with me, please, Ms. O’Connell,” the guard said.
To her surprise, however, she was not led toward the exit, but to the bank of gleaming elevators beyond the lobby. “Mr. Dumas wishes to see you in his office,” the man said by way of explanation.
Well, okay then.
The elevator went up and up until they reached the top floor. When the doors opened with a whisper-soft whoosh, 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: why are 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.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Spencer turned away from Kayla’s mother and walked back to his car before he said something he would regret. He’d had his fill of interfering parents. Apparently, that was something else he and Kayla had in common.
He left Brandyville and headed for the two-lane road that would take him back to Pine Ridge. His foot fell heavily on the gas pedal, hoping to make it back to DI to ... what? Try to talk Kayla out of a deal that would see her set for life? And more importantly, why would he do that? For a pocketful of maybes and let’s-sees?
Along the way, various scenarios played out in his mind. He could only hope he hadn’t been wrong about Kayla. That she had walked away for all the right reasons. That underneath it all, she felt the same inexplicable spark, the same connection he had. That stolen trysts and discreet rendezvous wouldn’t be enough.
That her calls and texts and her trip to DI were to tell him she had changed her mind, and not just to tell him she was going to accept his father’s offer.
She’s different, he told himself repeatedly on the eternally long ride up to the executive floor. She cares about more than your money and your name.
When the elevator opened, he saw Kayla emerging from his father’s office with a satisfied smile on her face. It was like a sucker-punch to his gut.
Maybe he really was every bit the fool his father believed he was after all.
Kayla’s eyes met his. They widened, and her smiled faded.
“Spencer!” She took a step toward him.
Spencer dropped his gaze, then stabbed the button and closed the elevator doors.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The moment she saw Spencer’s face, Kayla knew several things:
Spencer had nothing to do with the agreement.
Spencer had real feelings for her.
Spencer thought she had betrayed him.
She couldn’t explain how she knew those things, but she did. It was all right there in his eyes, at least for someone who took the time to look past the polished exterior and see the man underneath.
She didn’t chase after him. Nor did she bother trying to explain. He wouldn’t be of a mind to listen. She couldn’t really blame him, either. Twice now she had told him she wasn’t interested. For him to assume she was invoking the “three strikes and you’re out” rule would be perfectly reasonable.
Besides, the man obviously had trust issues. If there was a downside to having all that wealth and power, it was that he had to be on his guard all the time. How many people had tried to use him for one thing or another, all while blowing sunshine up his ass?
Oh, Spencer Dumas was no poor little rich boy, she knew that. She had lived in the area long enough to have heard his name come up often in the local rumor mill. Most of the time, what people had to say about him was punctuated with clucks of their tongues and head shakes of disappointment.
As if all those tongue-clucking hypocrites had the right to pass judgment.
She and Spencer ... they had a lot in common, if she ignored the whole wealth and power thing. They were both considered “bad” people; their actions, admittedly not their proudest moments, frowned upon by lo
cal society. They both had manipulative, controlling parents who cared more about themselves than they did their offspring. They shared a love of creative, passionate sex ... and they were both really, really good at it.
Maybe that was how she had known what he felt when they had locked eyes—she knew exactly what she would have thought had their situations been reversed and she had seen him walking out of Dumas Senior’s office.
The question was: what was she going to do about it?
As Kayla drove home, she asked herself a lot of hard questions. Surprisingly enough, the answers turned out to be incredibly simple. All she had to do was listen to her heart.
Her mother was waiting for her, her eyes bright with greed and Scotch. “I am so proud of you! My daughter, the multi-millionaire! You’re set for life, and you didn’t even have to marry to do it!”
“Mom—”
“Where shall we go, hmm? I hear California is nice, or maybe Texas. Lots of oil men in Texas! Or the Keys. Yes, the Florida Keys!”
“Mom—”
“Oh, listen to me going on and on when my daughter is a travel agent! I bet you have some wonderful ideas. You’ll know all the best places, of course.”
“Mom, stop. I didn’t sign the contract.”
Patricia’s face went blank for a moment, then she laughed. “Good one, Kayla Rose. As if you would be stupid enough to walk away from five million dollars and a fresh start away from this Podunk town.”
Kayla’s lips thinned, and Patricia’s smile faded, her jubilation turning to horror.
“You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t. Oh, Kayla, how could you?”
“It wasn’t right, Mom.”
“Right!” Patricia was shrieking now. “Are you kidding me? What could possibly be wrong with five million dollars! Haven’t you learned anything from my mistakes?”
“That’s the thing, Mom; I have learned something.”
Patricia let loose with a string of slightly slurred profanities until Kayla put her hand up.
“Enough. This is my life, not yours. If you can’t accept that, there’s the door.”
Her mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You are throwing me out?”
“No, Mom, I’m giving you a choice.”
Patricia huffed. “Well, I guess I know where I stand. After all I’ve done for you! This was your chance, Kayla. A chance to make a better life for both of us, and you screwed it up, as usual. You are definitely your father’s daughter.”
The familiar stab didn’t hurt as much as it used to. Or maybe Kayla was just too numb to feel it.
Kayla didn’t remember a lot about her father. It was hard to picture his face; nearly impossible to recall what his bear hugs had felt like.
She had vague memories of him when she was very young; fuzzy images of him teaching her how to ride a bike and taking her along with him to his company softball games where she was the honorary “bat girl.” Those memories were the good ones, the ones she wished she could hold onto better.
Other memories were clearer, like the shouting matches her parents used to have late at night after she had gone to bed. Patricia would complain about not having enough money; her father would say he was working as hard as he could.
The older she got, the more she understood. Back then, she had taken her mother’s side more often than not, wanting the pretty, expensive things her friends had. She hadn’t realized how fleeting those things were, how little they mattered.
Her father had been a good man. His biggest flaw was that he had fallen in love with her mother.
Maybe Patricia was right and she really was like her dad.
She could only hope.
Kayla exhaled heavily as her mother stomped off into the guest room.
“Well, that went well,” she murmured. Her hand was shaking slightly as she poured a glass of water from the tap, the stress of the morning’s events catching up to her.
She had never spoken to her mother like that before, but it was long overdue. If she wanted her mother to respect her as an adult and treat her as such, then she had to start acting like one. Step one was taking control of her own life and to stop trying to live by everyone else’s rules.
Her new plan, the one that had been steadily taking shape since her visit to Dumas Industries, was as terrifying as it was exciting, but she was going to do it. She’d had enough of living day to day, content to exist but nothing more.
Summoning her courage, Kayla grabbed her phone and her laptop, and began putting her plan into motion.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Walking away from Dumas Industries was easier than he had thought it would be. A bit scary, yes, but liberating, too.
He had prepared well, so it wasn’t as if he would be living out of a box or standing in line at the soup kitchen anytime soon. Despite his father’s glaring lack of faith and confidence, Spencer did know a thing or two about running a business and making smart investments.
Sate was his passion, and he was going to focus all his attention on that for the foreseeable future. He was done being a puppet; finished with being manipulated and underappreciated.
Out of courtesy, he had called Chelsea Chamberlain and informed her of his decision. The fact that she seemed neither surprised nor particularly disappointed was further confirmation he had made the right choice.
Afterward, he had called one of his contacts at the local paper and “leaked” the news of his resignation and cancelled engagement. Gerry Brenner had always been one of the more open-minded journalists when it came to rumors of his “scandalous behavior,” so Spencer had been happy to provide him with an inside scoop that would earn the guy some visibility. The story hit social media within hours, and now the DI public relations team was scrambling to put a positive spin on things. It was with no little sense of satisfaction that Spencer noted DI stock had plummeted by nearly fifty percent by the time his private plane left Pine Ridge behind for good. It would come back up again, no doubt, but the sharp drop suggested that some people thought he had done well at the helm.
He hadn’t bothered to try to contact Kayla. She was probably busy scoping out new locations and dreaming up ways to spend her newly acquired fortune. Hopefully, she found herself a good financial advisor. If she was careful and invested wisely, she should be set for life. And if she was really smart, she would give her mother a monthly expense account and set herself free.
His initial hurt had slowly turned into numb acceptance. He might not like Kayla’s decision to take the offer, but he could understand it. Financial security and an opportunity to live a life’s dream were powerful motivators. She was just looking out for herself, and that made a hell of a lot more sense to him than the romantic notions that had temporarily clouded his judgment. He was still leaving DI, still moving forward with his plan to pursue his own lucrative interests, but he would be doing it alone.
Spencer’s first order of business was going to be cleaning house by getting rid of the moles on his father’s payroll. The second thing he was going to do was reward those who had remained loyal to him and Sate with generous bonuses and incentives.
Then he was going to try to forget Kayla O’Connell.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Still believe Kayla has changed?” Ian walked into their kitchen, sliding the morning paper across the table.
Lexi glanced at the headlines as she tipped more French toast sticks onto the serving plate, then turned to wipe her daughter’s sticky syrup fingers.
“Who’s Kayla?” asked their son Patrick.
“No one you know,” Lexi told him. “Go finish getting ready for school. You don’t want to be late for the bus again.”
“Daddy will take us,” Kate said, flashing her father a brilliant grin. “Won’t you, Daddy?”
Lexi withheld her sigh. Kate was such a daddy’s girl, and Ian ate it up like candy.
“Of course I will, sweetheart.”
Kate hopped off her chair and gave her dad a big hug, then
skipped off to find her shoes.
“You’re spoiling her, Dad,” Patrick said matter-of-factly, his expression more mature than it should have been for a seven-year-old. “She’s in kindergarten now. She has to learn how to do things for herself.”
“When did he get so grown-up?” Ian muttered as his son left the room.
“Since one of the kids called him a baby for having his father drive him to school,” Lexi told him.
Ian scowled. “What’s wrong with me dropping them off once in a while?”
“Nothing.”
“But ...?”
“But ... it wouldn’t hurt to let them take the bus.”
“Do you know the kinds of things that happen on the school bus?”
Lexi bit back the urge to smile. It was kind of cute to see her lethal, bad boy husband worrying over things like riding the school bus. “Yes, and learning how to deal with that is part of the public school experience. Besides, she has her big brother looking out for her. Patrick’s protective instincts are almost as strong as yours.”
Ian scowled.
Lexi poured him a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with her own. She picked up the paper and skimmed the society page article. “Spencer Dumas resigned as CEO of Dumas Industries?”
“And broke his engagement to Chelsea Chamberlain,” Ian said.
Lexi sipped her coffee. “And you think Kayla had something to do with this?” She frowned.
“I’d bet my Sig on it,” he said, referring to his favorite gun. “Wherever that woman goes, trouble follows. She spent a few days at his exclusive resort a few weeks ago, then suddenly he walks away from DI and an heiress? That’s no coincidence, Lex.”
“You know this how, exactly?” she asked, already knowing the answer. “You’ve been cyber-stalking again, haven’t you?”
He shrugged unapologetically.
Her eyes were drawn to the play of his muscles, the scruff around his strong jaw. Her husband was still a damn fine-looking man, and even after years of marriage and two kids, her heart still raced when she looked at him.
Two of a Kind: A Callaghan Family & Friends Romance Page 12
