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The Missing Heir(45)

By:Barbara Dunlop


                Cole took the opportunity to shift the conversation away from his father. “Tell me about your dad.”

                She thought for a moment while she spooned a dollop of the whipped cream into her mouth. “He was tall. He had this booming, infectious laugh. I remember him flipping pancakes in the air, and how he used to trot around the yard, whinnying like a horse, with me on piggyback.”

                “Little girls like that?”

                “I did.”

                “My mom baked bread on Friday nights,” said Cole. “I’d hear her in the kitchen after I went to bed. She’d let it rise all night, then bake it in the morning. Best breakfast of the whole week.”

                “I’m trying to picture you young.”

                An image of Zachary came to his mind, and he hoped she wasn’t trying to picture back that far. He’d hunted the internet for more photos of Samuel, found many and he realized there was a significant family resemblance. Then he’d had a friend back in Alaska send him some of his own baby pictures to compare to Zachary. They were all but identical.

                Amber took another spoonful of the whipped cream. “I can’t picture it. You must have always been old.”

                “Old? Thanks a lot.”

                “How old are you?”

                “Thirty-two. You?” He already knew, but it seemed logical to ask.

                “Thirty-one. So I guess you’re not so old.”

                “Gee, thanks.”

                She grinned. “But I’m surprised you’re not married, or at least in a relationship.”

                “There’s no current or likely future Mrs.—” He caught himself. “Mrs. Parker. You?”

                “Married?” she scoffed.

                “I meant in a serious relationship?”

                “Nope.”

                “What about in the past?”

                “These questions are getting quite personal.”

                “They are, aren’t they?” He didn’t apologize or retract it.

                She wrapped her hands around the mug. “Nobody of note.” After a pause, she kept talking. “I left home right after high school, worked days, went to school at night to get my accounting designation. I might not be a vice president, but my job at Coast Eagle is significant.”

                He stirred the whipped cream into his hot chocolate. “I never doubted it was.”

                “I oversee six branch offices and several dozen staff members.”

                “Have I said something wrong?” He couldn’t figure out what had made her defensive. He had nothing but admiration and respect for what she’d accomplished in her professional life.

                She took a sip. “Not you. Roth, I guess. And some of the other executives. Sometimes I think they assume I’m just like Coco. They all knew her, while most of them had barely met me before the crash. They seem to have forgotten that I was at Coast Eagle before she met Samuel. I sometimes get the impression they think Coco got me the job.”