Page 84 of What I Like About You

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A senseof dread filled Dalton as he walked into the lobby of the Southland Holdings headquarters. The plain red brick building did nothing to stand out among the many others that looked just like it in downtown Atlanta, but he knew better than to take its unassuming first impression at face value. The lobby still looked exactly as it had for as long as he could remember, with its marble tile floors and deep mahogany walls, all of which were shined to the point one could probably see their reflection in them. The few pieces of furniture that sat off to the side in a waiting area only added to the opulent feel, and Dalton couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Would it kill the man to at least have a chair that a visitor wouldn’t be afraid to sit in down here?

Making his way to the elevator, a security guard who resembled Mr. T a little too strongly for Dalton’s comfort held out a hand to stop him. The guard looked him up and down, taking in his shorts, flip-flops, and polo shirt, probably thinking that he was here to try to rob the place.

“Can I help you?” the guard asked, glancing over at the receptionist who was too busy trying to transfer calls to look up. Dalton didn’t recognize her, but he hadn’t expected to. Like most major corporations, they went through front desk receptionists like most people did socks.

“I’m here to see my father,” Dalton told the man.

“And who is that?”

“Dalton Sutherland.”

“You got ID?”

Dalton reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. His ID was sitting right on top of the pile of cards shoved in there, but only because he’d been required to show it to get on the plane. Prior to that, he wasn’t sure the last time he’d actually had to use it.

“Is he expecting you?” Mr. T asked, glancing between the card and Dalton.

“Doubtful, but I’m pretty sure he’ll see me.”

The guard gave him another couple of up-and-down looks before finally handing his license back.

“I’ll have to call Mr. Davenport and have you escorted up.”

“Ehhh, let’s not get him involved,” Dalton said, digging through his wallet again. The last person he wanted to see right now was Jonah. Pulling out a white proximity card with the Southland Holdings logo on it, he held it up to show it off. “I bet this baby still works.”

Waving it in front of the little sensor pad next to the one elevator he knew would take him to the restricted floor that held the executive offices, Dalton couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the security guy. A wry smile hit his lips when the sensor beeped and the elevator doors opened. The guard’s eyes went wide in surprise, unsure how someone he’d never seen had such access.

“Being the heir has its privileges,” Dalton joked before stepping inside and hitting the button for the executive suite and watching the doors close.

Not two steps off the elevator, a familiar voice rang out, forcing a sincere smile from Dalton.

“Well, as I live and breathe!” the sweet, southern accent of Mrs. Carr, Big D’s longtime executive assistant, called out. “Tripp Sutherland, get over here and give me a hug!”

He did as he was told, knowing better than to mess with the older woman. She’d been a staple in his life growing up, and for as gentle a soul as she was, she wouldn’t hesitate to whoop him if she felt it was called for.

“Big man here?” he asked as he pulled back from the embrace.

“He is,” she said, throwing a glance to her watch. “He might be finishing up a call, but head on in. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.”

He gave her a wink before taking a deep breath and pulling open the French doors that led to the dragon’s lair. Stepping inside, he found his father sitting at the large mahogany desk, scrolling through his phone. The office hadn’t changed much in the years he was gone, still host to a dark purple carpet and obnoxiously opulent furniture. He’d often wondered if his father actually liked this stuff, or if it was just because this is how his father before him had kept it and he didn’t want to break with tradition.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Big D’s booming voice said as he registered Dalton’s presence.

“That’s the greeting I get?” he responded as he closed the doors behind him. What he and his father were about to discuss didn’t need to be overheard.

“Would you prefer I bound over this desk and pull you into a manly embrace?” his father asked, a distinct tone of sarcasm to his words.

“Not particularly,” Dalton answered, a little taken aback by his father’s attempt at a joke.

“To what do I owe the visit? Have you finally come to your senses and decided to embrace what is rightfully yours?”

“We need to talk first. Get some things cleared up.”

“Like?”

Dalton approached the desk, taking in his father sitting there like a king on the throne. So many emotions rushed through his body as Dalton sat in one of the large leather guest chairs across from him. He reminded himself to stay calm, that if they were actually going to get answers out of each other they needed to not lose their cool.