Page 35 of Miss Taken Identity

Her voice is dark, husky. But it has a musical quality to it.

Hypnotic.

I like her for some reason.

I don’t know why, but there’s just something about her energy. Her aura.

She’s got balls, and I can dig that.

She’s definitely Condor material.

I can just tell Kenneth’s done it again, and he’s picked the perfect woman for the job.

How he found her, though, I can only imagine.

Chloe’s parents gasp, and her mother murmurs something I don’t catch.

But Daphne waves it off. “My luggage was sent on ahead of me, but without my purse, a phone? Well, it was a while before I managed to call your office. And even longer before I could get hold of replacement cards and a phone again.”

There’s no looking for sympathy in her story. She’s just recounting the facts.

Kenneth Condor looks from one person to the next, looking as if he loves every minute of this micro-drama for some reason.

“That’s when I stepped in,” the old man says loudly, silencing Daphne and taking the floor himself, without getting up, of course.

His usually thin voice carries well in the library, and he relishes the sound of it as he focuses on Chloe and me.

“Once I found out we had an imposter in our midst, I assumed the worst. White-collar espionage, or whatever they call it these days. A fink, though, a rat in our midst!”

I feel myself tensing up, flattening my lips with disapproval.

Nobody talks like that about Chloe. Not even the great Kenneth Condor.

I’m just about to tell him so when he catches on and softens his tone.

Nearly whispering it.

“Then I found out you had a hard-on for the little lady here. Then, I heard you –.”

But that’s the limit. That’s way past the fucking limit.

Chloe’s mom gasps again, and her husband has to catch her as she swoons in a near faint.

“Alright, that’s enough!” I shout, stepping toward Condor, my eyes blazing with anger now.

“I won’t have you talk about Chloe like that. Not in front of me or anyone else,” I let him know, lowering my voice as I step right over to him, towering over his sunken frame.

“Sit down, Xander. You’re blocking my light.” He grins and coughs some more, oblivious to his attitude and its effect on others.

Or is he?

“Daphne?” he suddenly asks politely. Almost sounding like an actual human being, “Why don’t you take Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner to the dining room? Chloe too. Xander and I need to have a talk,” he says.

Condor is eyeing me with a steely look until his whole being seems to falter.

He looks like a sick and very tired old man again, already spent from his efforts so far.

I’d normally tell him that Chloe’s staying with me, but it’s probably best she goes with her mom and dad for now.

Daphne too. Maybe they can all have a forgive and forget talk about everything that’s happened so far.

“Go on ahead, Chloe. I’ll be there in a minute,” I promise her.

I want to take her in my arms and kiss her, but given the situation, it’s wiser if I just press a hand to her back.

Reassure her with my eyes.

She twists her mouth, about to say something, but in the end, she only nods. And glancing briefly in my direction, she leaves the library with her parents.

The very mysterious Daphne De Laurent leading the way.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Chloe

“Don’t mind Mr. Condor too much. He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Daphne De Laurent rasps over her shoulder, cocking a brow and grinning to herself.

Her mid-height heels click on the polished parquetry floor under them, and despite her friendliness after such a bizarre introduction, my parents surprise me with their rudeness.

“I don’t think we’re staying for any more of Mr. Condor’s so-called hospitality,” my mom hisses, giving my dad a furious look before redirecting it back at me.

Ms. De Laurent stops and turns slightly to face us all after we bunch up behind her. We’re suddenly stopped in our tracks and with no real way of knowing how to even get out of the place if we wanted to.

“Oh, I’d stick around,” Daphne drawls, a little smile playing on her lips before she resumes her brisk pace.

“It’s bound to get a little more interesting. Plus, the food and service here are excellent. Especially when the old man’s about the place.”

Her voice sounds the same, but her demeanor’s changed.

She suddenly seems more city. And not the rich side of the city either. I’m picking up on distinct mannerisms here.

And I should know, I came from a rough place too.

She sounds like a woman who might look the part, but maybe like me, she’s giving off the impression of someone who might not be all they appear to be either.

But my mom’s venom cuts through any convincing words or actions that Daphne’s trying to achieve.

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