Page 1 of Daulton


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PROLOGUE

CARTER

I’m sitting on my cell phone inside my car having second thoughts about this. “LeRond, this is completely ridiculous. I feel like I’m in an episode of the television show, Undercover Boss. I’m the president of the company for crying out loud.”

My assistant laughs. “Yes, but you want to be the CEO, Carter. For some unknown reason, your father has a hard-on for this small-potatoes company. If you want him to finally retire, and hand over the reins to you, closing this deal will go a long way toward accomplishing that.”

I sigh. “I know you’re right, but I look like an idiot in delivery man attire. I’m too big to wear this kind of outfit. I think you bought it in a size too small on purpose.”

LeRond chuckles. “I’ll never admit that. I bet you look hot though. Oh, take a picture and send it to me.”

I shake my head. “LeRond, we’ve discussed this. Stop hitting on me,” I say in jest. “You’re my assistant.”

“And, sadly, you’re not into men.”

“Well, that too, regardless, never with an assistant or anyone else who works for me. I’m not my father.”

“Thank God for that. Pull your hat down so she doesn’t recognize you. Most people know you around this city.” He mumbles, “You’re sort of hard to miss.”

“The hat is down, and my hair is covered. I also shaved my beard.” I’m rarely, if ever, seen without facial hair.

“Hmm. I don’t remember the last time I saw you clean shaven. In fact, in all these years, I don’t think I ever have.”

“I was probably entering junior high the last time I had no facial hair. Don’t worry, it’ll be back by the morning. Maybe even by dinnertime.” He laughs. I sigh. “Remind me of the plan again?”

“You’re delivering the glow balls that I packed in the box. They’re all the rage on TikTok right now. I promise. Just try to interact with the owner and pump her for some intel. Try to find out why she won’t sell and what it will take for her to possibly sell. Or try to get enough information from her for some kind of takeover. Anything that would be helpful.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this nonsense. What’s the name of the owner again?”

“It’s Reagan Lawrence. Stop whining. You’ll be in and out in a few minutes. Just get the information and leave. If it works, your father will be indebted to you. If it doesn’t, he’ll never know you were there. No one except me will know, and I’ll only use it as leverage to get more vacation days.” I hear him chuckling.

“You’re a riot. You get plenty of vacation days.” I grab the box. “Hopefully she’s there today. I’m not doing this again.” I get out of my car. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, handsome.”

“LeRond…”

In a deep, professional voice, he says, “Good luck, Mr. Daulton.”

I end the call and get out of my car with the box. I look up at the big storefront sign.TikTok Trendy. It’s a catchy name. It’s a smart marketing tactic.

I can’t for the life of me figure out why my father has it so bad for this company. I told him just to offer her more money, but he refuses. He wants to play dirty, and what Thomas Daulton wants, Thomas Daulton always gets. He’s gone so far as to try to buy the entire building, but, apparently, it’s in escrow with another buyer who wants to remain anonymous and refuses to consider selling.

I walk in and hear a chime, though I don’t see a bell. It must be electronic. The woman sitting behind the counter looks up and smiles. This woman can’t be the owner. She’s young and looks like a blonde hair, blue-eyed supermodel.

I clear my throat and give her a big smile. “Hello, ma’am. I have a glow ball delivery for a Reagan Lawrence of TikTok Trendy.”

She pinches her eyebrows together. “I don’t remember any orders for that, but perhaps someone else who works here ordered them. Thank you. You can just leave the box over there.” She points to an open table next to the door.

Crap. I can’t just drop it and run. That would defeat the purpose of my being here. “Actually, I was instructed to give it directly to the owner. I need her signature. Is she here?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re looking at her. Bring it over here, and I’ll sign for it.”

Huh? This beautiful woman is Reagan Lawrence? I’m flustered. “Oh. Hi. My name is…uhh…LeRond.”

“Well, hello, LeRond. Like I said, you can leave the box on the table and bring the paperwork to me to sign.”

I place the box on the table. I slowly start walking toward her, looking at the shelves to buy myself some time talking to her. “So, how long have you owned this place?”

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