tone went hard. “Leave my wife out of this.”
An image of Kalissa appeared in Riley’s head, and guilt immediately slammed into him. Shane was right. This had nothing to do with Darci.
“You’re right,” he said. “I apologize.”
It took Shane a moment to respond. “Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, you seem to show up.”
“We’re in the same business,” said Riley, wondering if Shane would finally acknowledge their family relationship. He lobbed him an opening. “It must be in the genes.”
Again, there was a moment of silence. “Is that a crack?”
“Take it however you want.”
“Inheriting something is only the first step. The place doesn’t run itself.”
“Inheriting is a big step,” said Riley. He’d have been happy to inherit a dollar. He’d have been happy if Dalton had even once looked him in the eyes.
“I’ve been on my own for over six years.” Shane sucked in an audible breath. “Forget it. I don’t give a damn what you think.”
“And I don’t give a damn what you think. I bid the contracts I see fit. I’ve been independent since day one, and I’m planning to stay that way.”
“This is strictly business?” asked Shane.
“Strictly business,” said Riley.
“It feels.” There was a searching tone to Shane’s voice, and he paused again.
Riley hated that a mere phone call could unsettle him like this. He hated himself for hoping that Shane would acknowledge him. He’d been waiting for scraps from the Colborn table his entire life. He needed it to stop.
“Is that it?” he asked, anger crackling his tone.
“That’s it,” said Shane.
Riley slammed down the phone.
In the lobby of the Colborn Aerospace building, Kalissa lost her nerve. She felt suddenly vulnerable in the cavernous space, phones ringing, dozens of footfalls echoing against the marble floor, men in expensive suits, women in tailored black and white. Halfway to the long, curved reception counter, she turned back.
“Mrs. Colborn,” a woman approached her in a steel gray skirt and matching jacket. It was brightened by a teal blouse. “Did you get a chance to read the food services report?”
“I’m sorry,” said Kalissa, her voice coming out raspy from her tight throat.
“What was that?” the woman asked. When Kalissa didn’t respond, she kept on talking. “I can ride up with you on the elevator.”
“Mrs. Colborn?” called another voice, a man this time.
The first woman put a hand on Kalissa’s back, turning her. “Don’t look up. Just keep walking and listening to me. Pretend I’m saying something absolutely riveting.”
“Uh, what?” Kalissa glanced toward the voice.
“Don’t look,” the woman warned. She gave a nod to a security guard who moved forward to meet the man.
Another security guard held an elevator for them.
“Thank you, Bernie,” said the woman as they stepped inside.
Kalissa nodded to the guard named Bernie, and he reached around to press the button for the twenty-first floor. Then he stood in front of the door until it closed. Kalissa guessed her sister and her husband didn’t cram into the elevator with a dozen other people.
Her nerves ramped up even further.
“The food services report?” the woman asked.
“I’m sorry,” Kalissa repeated, not knowing where else to go with the question. She didn’t want to tell some stranger she was Darci’s twin before she told Darci herself. She was beginning to realize how poorly she’d thought this through.
“Not to worry,” said the woman. “Give me a call when you get to it. It’s all good news. The international stations are getting rave reviews, and we’ve had inquiries from two national food magazines about interviews. Can I tell them you’ll be available?”
“Can I, uh, get back to you?” Kalissa asked weakly.
The woman peered at her. “Are you okay?”
“Just fine.”
“You’re not getting that flu are you?”
“I do have a bit of a headache,” Kalissa replied honestly.
The elevator came to a halt, pinging at the twenty-first floor. The doors slid smoothly open.
Kalissa stepped out, not sure whether to go left or right. There was a small reception desk in the foyer, but she didn’t want to ask which way it was to her office.
“Mrs. Colborn?” A woman came worriedly to her feet from behind the reception desk. She glanced down a hallway behind her, then she looked at Kalissa again. “I didn’t see you leave.”
Kalissa breathed a sigh of relief. At least she knew which direction to go.
“Your clothes,” said the woman, bustling out from behind the desk. “Did something happen to the Farsen Kalick jacket? Do you need me to call the cleaners?”
“It’s fine,” said Kalissa, picking up her pace, heading for the hallway where the receptionist had looked. “I’m fine. I’ll let you know.”
She cleared the reception area, leaving the women behind her. She passed several closed doors. Two had nameplates on them, both belonging to vice-presidents.
At the end of the hall, she came to a set of double doors with brass handles, Shane Colborn, President. Her legs nearly gave way, and she put out a hand to brace herself against the wall. She did not want to run into Shane before she found Darci.
For a second, she considered turning back. But then she’d have to face the receptionist again, and she couldn’t see how she’d make it out of the building without being approached by other employees.
She straightened from the wall and took the right turn. A few moments later, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d found it, her sister’s office door: Darci Colborn, Director of Staff Services.
It was open about six inches, and she could hear Darci’s voice inside. “I’ll be down to the cafeteria later on.”
Kalissa’s stomach clenched hard, but she couldn’t help a nervous smile. Darci sounded just like her.
“Okay,” said Darci. “Yes, I can.”
Kalissa
