Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Donovan
The best disguise in a situation like this is no disguise at all.
I’ve debated for months how I’d get by the security in the building that houses the offices of the company my brother owns, but it turns out all I had to do was smile at the security guard.
He tossed me a wave and with a stroke of his hand over his beard, he called out, “You’re looking good, Mr. Hunt. I like the no beard look.”
As do I. It’s the reason why I always shave at least once a day.
I did just that before I left New York a few hours ago. Delia was perched on the edge of my bed watching as I got ready for this daytrip.
She helped me chose the dark blue suit I’m currently wearing. She was the one who tied my silver tie to perfection and when she kissed me and told me that regardless of what happens today, she’ll love me forever, I knew I was ready.
I board the elevator alone. I’m grateful for that because as it shoots up to the twelfth floor of this building, nerves own me.
The doors slide open on the ninth floor. Two women board. One looks right at me. “Really, Victor? When we were together I asked you to shave the beard. You do it now? Months later.”
I haven’t heard my brother’s voice in years, so I have no clue if it’s similar to mine. I answer her with a shrug.
I don’t want to blow my non-cover now that I’m this close to face to face time with him.
“You’re a bastard,” she tosses that at me before she departs when the doors open on the tenth floor.
The woman who boarded with her looks at me. “I happen to like the look, sir.”
With that she steps off, too. If I knew her name I’d pass that sentiment onto my brother.
As soon as the doors are shut again I look at one of the mirrored walls. I look like me but I also look like him.
I haven’t had to deal with that directly in years. I can’t say I’ve missed it.
When the doors open on the floor that I know is home to the executive offices of Hunt & Associates, I’m greeted with stares from at least a half dozen people.
“Mr. Hunt?” A dark-haired guy around my age approaches me. “I thought you were in a meeting, sir.”
I brush past him and start walking straight toward what appears to be a massive office with glass walls.
It’s opaque so I can’t see who is behind the closed door, but I’d bet everything I own Victor is in there.
I feel him near me. Call that twin intuition or false hope, but I sense he’s close by.
“Mr. Hunt is in a meeting.” A woman’s voice trails me. “In his office.”
“Hey, Mr. Hunt.” Another woman crosses my path. “I love the new look. You look at least five years younger like that.”
It’s just another note to pass onto my twin.
I’m just a few steps away from the closed office door when it swings open.
Wearing a white button-down shirt, dark trousers, and suspenders, I see my face reflected back at me. The only difference is the beard covering his.
Victor finishes rolling one of his shirtsleeves to his elbow as he casually studies my face.
Gasps punctuate the silence behind us. It lures my brother’s gaze past me toward his dozens of employees. “Get back to work.”
The scurrying I hear behind me tells me that they’re all doing as told.
I swallow hard and finally take Delia’s advice when his gaze lands back on my face. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says back. “Come in and take a seat.”
“Is it Mom?” Victor asks I settle into one of the three leather chairs that face a large steel desk.
I’ve followed his career closely enough to know he owns one of the largest residential real estate firms on the Eastern coast. My brother has made a success of his life. I’m proud of him. Maybe one day I can tell him that.
“Mom’s good,” I assure him. “She’s living…”
“In Montana,” he finishes my sentence the same way he used to do when we were kids.
“You’ve kept tabs on her?”
He rakes his hand through his hair the same way I often do with mine. The simple gesture catches me off guard. “I worry about her, Donovan.”
That shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. He left with our father after our mom realized he was cheating on her. Our dad crawled into bed with our mother’s best friend whenever he had the chance for years.
Our mom wanted out of the marriage, but she wouldn’t say why in front of Victor or me, even though we were old enough to understand. I didn’t learn the full truth until years later when she confessed it all. She didn’t want to tarnish my image of my dad even though he had broken her heart.