Free Daughter of Light by V. C. Andrews Page A

“I’ll tell Mr. Dolan you’ve arrived,” she added before I could respond. She didn’t want to waste much of her time and energy on the likes of me, I thought.
    Oddly, none of this discouraged me. If anything, I felt up to the challenge. It was in our nature to be competitive. Daddy had always told me that. I recalled how pleased he was when I brought home very high grades or won a contest in school.
    “There are so many things about us that are false or exaggerated,” he had told me recently. “We don’t live forever and ever, but we don’t feel that we have to. We don’t have to feel and want most things they have to feel and want. What we must never do is feed any self-doubt. Our confidence is our special armor, Lorelei. Don’t be afraid of being accused of arrogance. Most of the time, it will be the envious who will accuse you, anyway.”
    I had fled from Daddy. I was afraid of him now, yes, but I would never forget his wisdom.
    “Good luck,” Michael said. “They’ll call me when it’s time to run you back.”
    “Don’t go too far,” Michele told him before she buzzed Mr. Dolan on his intercom.
    “I won’t need you to run me back, Michael,” I said. “Thank you, but I would like to walk and see some of Quincy.”
    “If you change your mind, I’ll be nearby,” he said. He glanced at Michele and left.
    “Mr. Dolan, Lorelei Patio is here to see you. Okay,” she said, and cradled the receiver before putting her hand against her lower back and coming around her desk to escort me to the inner office door.
    “It’s better if you walk more than sit and stand in one place,” I told her.
    She smiled quizzically and tilted her head to the right.
    “How would you know? Don’t tell me you’ve had a baby.”
    “I won’t. I just know,” I said.
    She raised her eyebrows and started to reach for the doorknob.
    “I have it from here, thank you,” I said, and opened the door, stepping in front of her and entering Ken Dolan’s office.
    He looked up from his desk, not so much with surprise as with confusion.
    “I guess I’ll be right outside as usual,” Michele said from behind me, and closed the door.
    Ken Dolan rose slowly. He was easily six feet two or three, with a compact, athletic build. He wore a light blue sports jacket, a white shirt with an opened collar, no tie, and dark blue slacks. His dark complexion highlighted his clear sea-blue eyes. There were strands of light gray in his stylishly cut light brown hair.
    Some men simply radiated authority, I thought. They look as if they should run companies or be U.S. senators. Maybe because I could see and feel it so easily in Daddy, I could recognize it when I saw it in ordinary men. Ken Dolan was one of those men, and yet there was nothing hard or unpleasant in the face he was showing me at the moment. If anything, he now looked somewhat amused.
    He came around his desk and, still smiling, offered me his hand. “Come, sit,” he said, indicating the dark brown leather settee on his right. “I hate sitting behind that desk when I interview someone for any position here. Makes me feel like a school principal or something.”
    I sat, and he sat beside me but leaned back.
    “Tell me about yourself,” he began. “My aunt filled me in on your unfortunate family situation.”
    “She’s very kind,” I said.
    “She’s got good instincts when it comes to people, especially strangers. What is it she saw so quickly in you?”
    “Determination to succeed,” I said without hesitation. His eyes told me he liked that reply. “Except for getting my father to realize he’s making a mistake, I’ve never failed at anything I’ve attempted to do.”
    “Does that include computer skills?”
    “It’s in our DNA these days,” I replied. “We had an excellent program at school.”
    “My current secretary, who you see is desperate to get relief, has developed an amazing sixth sense when it comes to what I want and need done. I’m looking for