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CHAPTER ONE
Donovan—Business as Usual
All eyes swung my way, just the way I liked it.
Aaron handed me a cigar and slapped me on the back. “This is one for the history books. The deal you closed will be talked about in classrooms for decades to come.” He beamed and shook my shoulder with more force than necessary.
But I smiled right back and raised the cigar to my mouth, grinning as I held it between my teeth. I spoke around it, knowing it would be only a prop because I wasn’t a smoker. The one time I passed up something expensive. “I don’t know about decades, but at least some years.” Then we both burst out laughing, pushing each other’s shoulders and guffawing as loudly as possible.
Why not? This was a celebration, after all. And I was riding high after making our CEO and company a whole lot of money today. He should be jubilant.
My pockets wouldn’t be too loose either.
A woman, someone familiar but not an individual I actually knew, threaded her arm through mine as if we were old pals and winked. “How about I buy you a drink?”
Aaron pulled a face and tapped my back one more time. “Don’t let me get in the way.” Then he rushed off before I could respond.
I turned toward the woman and looked up into her beautiful face. Smooth dark-brown skin and taller than my five-foot-ten frame by at least an inch or even two. She raised perfectly plucked eyebrows, reminding me of her request. “I could use a drink.”
She kept her arm in mine and tugged me toward the hotel bar. We’d rented out the space, and drinks were on my company tonight because of my huge win, so it wasn’t like she was actually buying me one. I watched her as she leaned over the bar to get the bartender’s attention, trying to place where I’d seen her before.
Hopefully, it wasn’t in my bed.
I’d made that mistake before; introducing myself to someone for the first time, only to find out I knew them already. Biblically.
She handed me a flute of champagne; honestly, not my favorite, but I wouldn’t complain, considering it was a celebration. “To the deal of the century. And to the man that made it happen.”
I raised my glass. “That’s something I can definitely drink to, um…”
She only smiled in lieu of giving me her name. Since she wore a green, satiny dress, I decided to call her “the lady in the green dress.” Yeah, I know, not very original, but when you’ve, uh, dated as many women as I have, creativity sometimes has to take a back seat to efficiency.
I downed my drink and set the crystal glass on the bar.
She leaned into me. “You want another?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Champagne not your thing?”
I shrugged. “You know, whatever gets the party started.” Those words were practically my life’s motto. One thing about Donovan Hawthorne—I worked hard, but…well, everyone knows how the rest goes.
“You must be riding pretty high.” She beamed, but there was something underneath the smile, hidden away.
“I am. Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, and please forgive me if we’ve met, but do I know you?”
She tilted her head and turned her smile into a pout. “I’m not offended, but yes, we’ve met before. Briefly.” Her eyes implored me to remember, but she was another beautiful woman out of all the many beautiful women in Houston I’d run across.
I hedged. “You do look familiar…” Which was true, but not enough to trigger my memory. “Where do I know you from?”
The lady in green leaned in and whispered near my ear. “Let’s look toward the future instead of the past. Are you ready to get out of here?”
She hadn’t said nothing but a word. I grinned. “Indeed. Your place or mine?”
“I have a suite upstairs.” Then she downed her drink and placed it on the bar, swishing off toward the lobby entrance, never looking back.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I quickly caught up to her and rode the elevator up to what I hoped would be a blissful hour or so.
Then I would make my excuses and head back down to the party. I was the man of the hour after all.
Donovan
Just as I left the lady in green’s room—I still didn’t know her name—on my way back down to the hotel bar, my phone buzzed. Usually in circumstances such as these, I would ignore the call, but you ignored Marshall Hawthorne at your own peril. He was a kind man and an amazing father, but could be a tad persistent.
“Hey, Daddy. I’m at a work thing. Can I call you back?”
“I only need a few minutes. It’s about the board meeting.”
This is exactly why I shouldn’t have answered the call. The last thing in the world I wanted to talk about was the Hawthorne Flying Eagles. I loved my family and was proud of how far the business had grown from the original crop dusters employed by my however-many-times Tuskegee Airman grandfather and his brother. Now it was a conglomerate consisting of a flight school, an airline repair shop, and a plane rental. Hawthorne employed a good number of people through the repair shop and a fair amount in the flight school, teaching the next generation of pilots.
I’d been one of them, unfortunately. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I traded tuition to Rice University for a pilot’s license. I couldn’t have the one without the other, so I did it, but wasn’t happy about it.
Now, because of how the charter was written, I had to attend board meetings for a company I had little stake in. I was constantly being pressured to take over for Daddy as CEO because of the way the charter was written so many years ago, before women were looked at as equals. Especially Black women, even by our own family. So despite four older siblings, three being sisters, all eyes looked my way.
But I wasn’t having it. There was a time when I would have relished the thought. That was before my idol showed me who he really was. Granddaddy had groomed me for succession since I was barely able to walk by myself. When I was old enough to understand, I asked why he never gave my brother the same attention. Dominick was older, with only Margaret above him, and interested in how the flight school ran under Granddaddy’s helm, along with Daddy. He never gave me a straight answer, but I should have paid attention, should have seen through him, and realized how shady he was.
My only regret is that I couldn’t slither out of the board duties. Once I discovered his dirtiness, I’d already been solidified as a voting member. Now, the only time I talked about Hawthorne business was during those quarterly meetings. And when Daddy called and forced the issue.
“I’m walking back down the stairs to the event, so I can give you a couple of minutes, but is it really necessary? Do we have a big vote coming up that I haven’t been privy to?” I asked because less than a year ago, Margaret made a play to replace Daddy when he retired, which was coming up quickly, in just three short months. The vote failed to change the charter to allow women to lead the company, so Margaret didn’t get the chance. Which, in all honesty, she really didn’t want. It was more about making a point than anything else.
I’d voted yes and would have voted twice if possible. Anything to take the heat off me.
“Not a big vote, but as you know, I’m retiring soon. I’d like to actually make that a reality, but yet I have no successor.” His voice was tired, not the booming, upbeat tone I was used to.
“Hey, Daddy, are you okay?” Sounded like something else had to be behind this call because we’d settled I would never be a part of his succession plan. Dominick should be the one receiving the pressure, but my oldest brother had somehow ensured that his word was the final say. Made easier by his being a recent widower with two small sons. Nobody pressured him like they did me, with good reason.
I had none of those excuses, but I’d also built a pretty successful career in the oil and gas business and wasn’t ready to let that go anytime soon.
He cleared his throat and spoke a little louder, but the strain still lurked underneath. “I’m fine. Obviously, this is all stressful. And we need something to break soon because that person will need to mirror me.”
“Sounds like a conundrum. But this didn’t just sneak up on you. If you’d voted to install Margaret, this wouldn’t be an issue.” I took advantage of any chance I could to remind him this was a failure of his own making. Yes, it had worked out for the best, but Margaret should have been able to come to that conclusion on her own terms instead of misogyny ruling the day. Daddy would have to own his vote, and I wouldn’t be pressured into anything because of his shortsightedness. I still didn’t understand why he voted as he did, other than whispers of something being held over his head.
The other end of the line was quiet for a few beats. In the end, he ignored my comment. “I need a successor, and I’d like it to be you. You have the same breadth of experience as Margaret, even if you’re a little rusty. We could work through that quickly.”
I inhaled deeply, then slowly released the breath. “Still no. Have you checked with Jerome?” Although my distant cousin was a Hawthorne, he was also a theater director, never taking an interest in the family business. Most Hawthornes outside our direct line only interacted with the business through the board meetings, just like me. And half of them didn’t even bother to come to Houston in person, opting for voting by proxy.
“Donovan, I’ve indulged you long enough. I get that you enjoy your current career path, but you were never meant to pursue anything outside of aviation.”
I…enjoyed my career? Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Daddy, do you have any idea what work event I’m at tonight?” I rushed on before he could even answer. “It’s a party honoring me because I made the deal of my life. Several lives. So it’s a little more than enjoyment for me. I’m good at it, and I’m happy to stay right where I am.”
Daddy’s breathing labored through the phone airwaves. When he spoke, his breath was short. “We need…to have…a serious discussion about…this.”
Was he that angry that he couldn’t even breathe? And why now? We’d had this discussion over and over again. So many times I’d lost count. I wouldn’t budge, but also didn’t want to stress him more than he already sounded. “We can talk about it Sunday when I come out for dinner. I’ll come early, but I have no plans of changing my mind.”
He grunted and hung up the phone.
That was so unlike my father. I’d have to call Mama and find out what was really going on.
But first, I’d finish celebrating myself.
End of Excerpt
