Barbara Dunlop - Seduced by the CEO

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She struggled to figure out where her head shots could have originated, guessing this was some kind of on-line game.

“My birthday’s coming up,” she ventured, trying to imagine who, other than Megan, would spend this much time on a joke gift.

“Nice groom,” said Megan.

Kalissa took another look at the man. “He is pretty hot.”

“It says here he’s Shane Colborn.”

“Why do I know that name?”

“Colborn Aerospace,” said Megan, identifying a prominent Chicago company.

“So, it was obviously somebody from Chicago who did this.”

“I mean, this is the real guy. He owns Colborn Aerospace.”

“Uh, oh.” Now Kalissa was worried. “He’s not going to think this is funny. Can anybody see this page?”

“I got it from a Nighttime News link.”

Kalissa’s confusion grew. “The national site?”

Megan nodded.

“Why? How? We have to get them to take it down.”

“I think it’s legit.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I think you have a doppelganger.”

“That’s not a real thing.” Kalissa studied the bride’s face. “And there’s no way someone could possibly look this similar.”

It was a joke. These had to be pictures of her that somebody had taken without her knowledge.

“Maybe you were part of a cloning experiment?”

“I doubt they had human cloning when I was born.”

“I hope they still don’t have it now,” said Megan. “You know, there is one other possibility,”

Kalissa waited a moment. But when Megan didn’t finish, she glanced up. “What?”

“You have an identical twin,” said Megan.

Kalissa shook her head.

“You were adopted.”

“I was nearly a year old when I was adopted. My mother would have known if I had a twin sister. She would have said something.”

Gilda Smith hadn’t been the most organized person in the world. She was fond of sherry, and her memory was never the greatest. But you didn’t forget that your adopted daughter had a twin sister.

Megan looked pointedly down at the screen. “Maybe they split you up.”

“Who would do that? And why keep it a secret?”

“It says she’s Darci Rivers. Well, Darci Colborn now.”

“My birth name was Thorp.”

“And your legal name is Smith. Whoever adopted this Darci would have changed hers too.”

“It can’t be,” said Kalissa, fighting the logic of Megan’s assumption. “It just can’t.”

Megan shrugged her shoulders, clearly resting her case.

As Kalissa took in every inch of the woman’s face, her chest tightened, and a strange buzzing sensation made its way along her limbs. She struggled to wrap her head around the information.

The resemblance was far too close to be a coincidence. Unless this was some elaborate photo-cropping joke, there was a real possibility she had a secret twin sister.

“You should call her,” said Megan. “Maybe she can float us a loan.”

Kalissa was appalled. “You didn’t actually say that.”

“The woman just married a billionaire.”

“So what?” The Colborn money had absolutely nothing to do with Kalissa.

“The minute she gets a look at you—”

“I’m not about to let her get a look at me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to be that person.”

“Really? What person is it you’re not going to be?”

“The long-lost relative who pops up the minute there’s money in play.”

“You don’t have to ask her for money.”

Kalissa wasn’t fooling around here. “It doesn’t matter if I ask or not. They’ll think I’ve been waiting in the wings all these years, and now I’ve decided to pounce.”

“She’ll probably just offer it up.”

Stop it.”

“We’d pay her back.”

“See?” said Kalissa. “ See ? Even you think I’m after her money. And you know me better than anyone.”

“It’s not like she’d miss a few thousand. Temporarily .”

Kalissa closed the window and handed back the tablet. “No. No. And no.”

“You can’t just ignore this.”

“Watch me.”

* * *

Riley Ellis was both thrilled and terrified. He had a newly expanded aircraft factory, a significant new sales contract, a massive mortgage on the commercial building and a maxed out line of credit. Ellis Aviation was entering a whole new phase of existence.

“Flipping the switch now,” he said to Wade Cormack on the other end of the cell phone in Seattle.

“Congratulations,” said Wade. He was the owner of Zoom Tac, the company supplying most of the parts for the new E-22 short haul jet.

Riley twisted the switch, and the main overhead lights came on in sequence. Computers came to life, and robotic machines started their power-up sequence along the assembly line. The hundred staff members on the floor sent up a cheer.

He hadn’t really turned everything on with a single switch. The supervisors and foremen at each station had simply taken the overhead lights as a signal to go live. It was eight a.m., August 16th, day one of the expanded operation.

From the interior walkway on the third level, Riley gave everyone a wave and a salute. “The clock is officially ticking,” he said to Wade.

The cheering gradually died down, and everyone’s attention turned to their tasks.

“Now you just need to get the glitches worked out of the supply chain,” said Wade.

“The custom rivets finally arrived. Colorado’s good on the sheet metal. How are your new parts certifications coming?” Riley moved along the walkway to his office, the spring-loaded door shutting out the noise behind him.

“My guys say they’re on track.”

“That’s great.” Riley plopped down on his desk chair.

The new office was compact and utilitarian, with big windows overlooking the factory floor. His production and sales managers had offices on either side of him, with the various unit supervisors near their staff’s stations throughout the facility.

Out of habit from all the recent construction, he’d worn cargo pants and a t-shirt, his feet clad in steel toed boots. Part of him was itching to get down there on the floor and plunge in. But he realized he had to stay at the helm.

He had over a hundred and fifty workers now, operating on three shifts. They needed a leader, not a colleague. And he had to keep focused on the company’s strategic direction.

“Good luck,” said Wade.

“Talk to you in a few days.” Riley ended the call.

As he settled back in his chair, his thoughts went fleetingly to his father, Dalton Colborn. The man had never once acknowledged Riley as his illegitimate son, and he’d certainly never given him any support or encouragement. Still, their lives had ended up following a similar path.

At the moment, Riley couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Dalton had felt in the early days when his fledgling company had first started to grow. Had he experienced this same combination of exhilaration and flat-out fear? Dalton had gone from nothing to a billion dollar aerospace company before he’d died, so he must have taken chances along the way.

Shane Colborn had inherited that dynasty. Shane was the legitimate son, the golden child.

“Well, Shane,” Riley said out loud to the empty office, wishing he had a shot of tequila or even a beer to use for a toast. “Let’s find out if your illegitimate half-brother can give you a run for your money.”

His phone pinged with a text message.

He set aside his thoughts and checked it. The text was from Ashton Watson, his high school friend. It was a photo tagged: Blew my mind.

Another text came immediately from Ashton. I’ve met the bride.

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