Discovering Duncan

Chapter One (#u3bc6ed60-0aa5-5ee6-9ca6-822b157cc750)

Chapter Two (#u4402af6f-3d38-5473-bed7-629d68d5d940)

Chapter Three (#uebf2f241-fa0f-5700-9ed9-0c4e48888b37)

Chapter Four (#u0ea1a91d-3d7e-58fd-a111-d0a79b010576)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

“It’s nothing personal. This is business.”

Duncan Bishop stared down at his father who sat behind the huge wood-and-marble desk in the private office of the CEO of Bishop International. The room was dead silent as the old man’s words faded into nothingness.

Duncan Ross Bishop, or D.R. as he liked to be called, stared right back at his son, a look on his face that Duncan had seen many times in the years he’d been part of the Bishop business dealings. The “I’m doing it my way, so get out of my way” look. Before it had been annoying, maybe even frustrating, but now it was sickening.

“Gary Tellgare is a friend.”

D. R. Bishop, a giant of a man, was as fit and hard physically as he was in the business world. With a full head of snow-white hair, a neatly trimmed beard to match, a deeply tanned complexion and a penchant for dark suits that emphasized his size, he knew how to intimidate. With the wave of a hand, he lopped off heads in business and never flinched.

Now he waved his large hand dismissively at Duncan on the other side of the desk. “Damn it, that doesn’t have any bearing on this. There are no friends in business. We need his routing division, and Tellgare runs a half-baked company that doesn’t need it. So, we get it…any way we can.”

Although Duncan never wore a beard, and his hair was dark brown with gold highlights, he matched his father physically with a solid, six-foot-three-inch frame, tanned skin, dark brown eyes and a penchant for dark, three-piece business suits. But other than DNA, right now they had nothing in common. “You’ve crossed the line if you try to ruin Tellgare.”

D.R. rocked his leather chair back, tented his fingers and studied his son with eyes as dark as night. “Crossed the line?”

Duncan leaned forward, pressing both palms down on the reflective surface of the cold desk. “Damn straight.”

“Oh, come on,” D.R. said with an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t have time for this bleeding-heart garbage. Just get it done.”

Duncan had heard those words before, and he was incredibly tired of them. He felt numb from watching his father destroy anything in his path. “I don’t have time for this, either,” he finally said as he straightened.

“Then get on with it.” D.R. pushed a folder on his desk over to Duncan. “Get to Legal and tell them to change this.”

He ignored the file. “No. If you’re going after Tellgare, count me out.”

The folder sat between them as D.R. drilled Duncan with a ferocious glare. “What?” he demanded.

“Are you going after Tellgare?”

“To use your words, damn straight.” The older man sat back and crossed his arms on his chest. “Damn straight.”

Dark eyes held dark eyes without blinking. For one week, Duncan had known this move was coming. He’d known there was no hope of stopping D.R. this time. “Unless you let me take over now and you step down, I’m out of here.”

D.R. uttered a profanity that rocked the room around them. “Fat chance of me stepping down and handing you all of this.”

“It’s your company and your decision. Live with both of them,” Duncan said. “I’ve had it.”

“You’ve had it?” D.R. stood to his full size. “News flash, Duncan, so have I. I’ve put up with your arguments and your flawed reasoning more than I should have because you’re my son. But no more. It’s my company, and I’ll do things my way. So get over it, and get on with this business with Tellgare.”

Now that he’d made the decision to quit, Duncan was shocked he had no second thoughts. “That’s it?”

D.R. exhaled. “And I quote, ‘Damn straight.’”

Duncan turned for the door, but D.R. wasn’t finished.

“Don’t you walk out on me like this!” the man thundered.

Duncan reached for the brass door handle.

“Don’t you think you’re going to use anything I taught you to go up against this company,” D.R. said, enraged. “If you walk out the door, you’re dead in this town. You’re done.”

Duncan twisted the cold handle.

“What in the hell do you think Adrianna is going to say about this idiocy?” D.R. demanded.

Duncan stopped, but didn’t turn. Adrianna? Tall, blond and no stranger to the business world, Adrianna Barr was the only child of one of the most powerful bankers on the West Coast. They’d dated, had fun, and they understood each other. “She’ll understand.”

D.R.’s boom of laughter filled the office. “God, you’re deluded. She’ll drop you like a bad habit.”

Maybe D.R. was right, and maybe he was wrong. It didn’t matter right then. Maybe it would later, but not then. Duncan was used to being alone. He’d always been alone. “Whatever.” Duncan jerked the door open.

“Where are you going?” his father asked, closer now, almost behind him.

Duncan turned and stood eye to eye, toe to toe with his father. “Anywhere but here.”

D.R. exhaled, raking his fingers through his thick white hair, then waved a hand vaguely. “Oh, just go home, get drunk, get Adrianna and take a break. I can handle things on this end.”