Читать книгу Lost In A Stallion's Arms - Deborah Fletcher Mello - Страница 9
Chapter 1
ОглавлениеAt six o’clock, when his morning alarm clock sounded, Luke Stallion was already standing beneath the heated spray of his morning shower. Six perfectly positioned stainless-steel showerheads were pelting water over every square inch of his muscular body.
Maneuvering the shower massage feature, Luke adjusted the spray until the pressurized water felt like hundreds of sturdy fingers were kneading the tension out of his very taut body. Closing his eyes, Luke tilted his head forward, allowing the water to rain down over his closely cropped haircut and beat against the back of his thick neck. As he tilted his head back again, the water hit him in the face with full force and pounded against his broad chest.
A rise of steam billowed in the open space, painting the tiled walls with a cloudy mist. Minutes passed before Luke moved to soap himself with the organic body wash he favored. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of sandalwood and vanilla, and just like that he was wide-eyed and awake, his earlier moments of sluggishness vanquished.
Luke was suddenly anxious about the mandatory meeting that had been scheduled for first thing that day. The memo had said no one was excused, and he could only begin to imagine what was so important. Having spent most of the night brushing up on the details of all his current projects, Luke was fairly confident that he would be able to respond to anything thrown at him, but then again, with his older brothers, just how sure could he be? He heaved a deep sigh.
Reaching for his requisite loofah sponge, he guided his large hands across the tight, sinewy lines of his torso. The soft sponge gently caressed his flesh, his skin like dark satin stretched over rock-hard marble. As he soaped and lathered each taut muscle, Luke had the overwhelming sensation that something big was going to happen to him today. Something that would change his life forever. He only wished he had a clue what that was so that he could be prepared for it.
Luke heaved a deep sigh. Leaning forward, he pressed his palms against the tile, the spray washing over his back and buttocks. Beaded water like tiny pearls tolled down his back, puddling in small streams before running down the backs of his long legs.
Some thirty minutes later he stepped from the shower, reaching for a large white towel that rested on the corner of the marble countertop. As he swiped at the moisture that dampened his skin, he admired his reflection in the mirror. His time in the gym was paying off nicely, definition clearly painting the muscular lines of his body. The new trainer was working him well, and Luke appreciated the benefits the hard work was producing.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stood staring at his reflection for a minute longer. Energy gleamed in the pools of black gold that were his eyes. They were his father’s eyes, and his brothers’. History glimmered back at him, a testament to the legacy he’d been bequeathed at birth. He was a true Stallion, through and through. Never mind him being prepared for whatever was coming. Whatever was coming had better be prepared for him, Luke mused, a soft smile pulling at his mouth. Nothing and no one had ever bested a Stallion man, and as far as he was concerned, nothing and no one ever would.
The laughter ringing through the conference room of Stallion Enterprises’ corporate headquarters belied the serious nature of the business meeting the executive board was supposed to be holding. The Stallion brothers, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, were chuckling heartily as they sat discussing the impending anniversary celebrations for Mark, John and John’s father-in-law, Edward Briscoe. It had been one year since all three men had jumped the holy matrimony broom, each of them taking a wife within weeks of each other.
The joint anniversary celebration had been the brain child of John’s wife, Marah, and her twin sister, Eden Waller. Mark’s wife, Michelle, had been pulled into the excitement, albeit reluctantly—the other women were adamant that since Edward and his wife, Juanita, and Michelle and Mark had both eloped, then their one-year anniversary celebrations needed to be the talk of Dallas. The three-day event was scheduled to coincide with the family reunion and the annual Black Rodeo hosted by the Briscoe-Stallion family at the renowned Briscoe Ranch.
“I swear,” John was exclaiming, disconnecting the call on his personal cell phone. “This party is going to send us to the poor house. Every time Marah calls it’s about the price of something having gone up. This thing is costing a fortune!” The man tossed up his arms, feigning annoyance.
His brothers all laughed, three pairs of dark eyes focused on his wide grin. The family resemblance ran deep, all four men imposing in stature. They each boasted well-formed physiques, black-coffee complexions, chiseled jawlines, seductive bedroom eyes and charismatic smiles.
Luke laughed. “I can’t believe you and Mark keep giving in so easily. Those women have both of you whipped silly!”
Mark laughed with him. “Love will do that to you, baby brother. You should try it.”
Luke shook his head from side to side. “Not me. I’m following in Matthew’s footsteps.” He gestured in his brother’s direction. “You go, Mr. Bachelor of the Year!” he exclaimed, acknowledging their sibling’s most recent claim to fame.
Matthew laughed. “That’s right, baby brother! Don’t go out like that. Enjoy it while you can!”
“What do you mean?” Mark asked. “Go out like what? John and I didn’t do anything but get married.”
“And married to very beautiful, talented, exceptional women,” John added. “I have to tell you boys, it beats that dating game you two want to keep playing.”
Luke’s head waved from side to side. “I like that game. I play it very well.”
“Me, too, as evidenced by the fact Texan magazine is giving me an award for it,” Matthew intoned. “In fact,” he said, gazing down at the Rolex watch on his wrist, “I plan to play with Miss Daphne Cuthbert at seven o’clock this evening, so let’s get this meeting wrapped up.”
“Does Daphne have any sisters?” Luke queried.
Matthew nodded enthusiastically, gesturing with his hands. “As a matter of fact, her sister, Janette, has a pair of legs that go from here to—”
John held up his hand. “Spare us.” He chuckled. “You two are determined to learn your lessons the hard way,” he said, his head shaking from side to side. “Don’t say Mark and I didn’t warn you!” Shifting the stack of manila folders on the table in front of him, John laughed heartily, his brothers laughing with him. “On to new business,” he said, shifting back into CEO mode without batting an eye.
Not skipping a beat, his siblings shifted with him, their earlier elation replaced with disciplined reservation. John leaned back in his leather executive’s chair, his arms folding over his chest as his gaze shifted from one brother to another. His forehead was furrowed as he fell into deep thought, something serious clearly crossing his mind. The other three men leaned forward, each of them attentive. Luke pulled his yellow-lined notepad closer, his ballpoint pen poised in anticipation.
John began slowly. “The reason I called this meeting is because Stallion stock has been under accumulation over the last few weeks. Too swiftly and too much of it. It’s raising some concerns about who is suddenly so interested in us and why.”
“Isn’t interest a good thing?” Luke asked, meeting John’s gaze evenly. “It’s near an all-time high, isn’t it?
John nodded. “That’s true, but it’s not a good thing if it’s all being purchased for the wrong reasons. One entity in control of too many shares could present us with some major problems.”
Matthew nodded. “Word on the street is someone wants us and wants us bad. We have to figure out who and why. I’ll be contacting all of our major stockholders in the next few weeks to see if anyone can shed any light on the situation, but we can’t afford to let our guard down. This could be a problem for us.”
A look of confusion crossed Luke’s face. “I don’t understand…” he started.
“We four have controlling interest in the company right now, but if one individual acquires enough of our stock, we could find ourselves in the middle of a hostile takeover attempt,” John answered.
Mark shook his head. “No one would be that bold, would they?
John shrugged. “Anything is possible, but no matter what, we need to make sure we’re on top of our game in case this gets ugly. We’ve all worked too hard to get where we are. We will not lose this company.”
There was a pregnant pause as each man fell into his own thoughts, remembrances of Stallion Enterprises’ growth and their individual contributions to the company crossing their minds.
John hadn’t yet graduated from Morehouse College in Atlanta before he’d begun negotiations for his very first acquisition. He’d formulated a solid business plan, the base of it grounded in determination and an adventurous spirit. Taking a chance on a small complex of rental units in foreclosure, he’d financed the deal with his share of the insurance money they’d all received after the untimely death of their parents. After investing a small sum of money to renovate and upgrade the property, he’d sold it some four months later for a sizeable profit. The rest had been history.
Building a financially secure future for his younger siblings had been foremost in John’s mind, his determination motivating him to move mountains for his family’s survival. Stallion Enterprises was now a respected corporate empire built on commercial real estate and development as well as a shipping company, with entertainment interests, and Mark’s newest pet project, a nationally ranked professional race team. Success had come after much hard work.
As the company had grown, John had ensured that his parents’ dreams of each of them attending and graduating from college had come true. Matthew had attended Harvard on a full academic scholarship, later earning a juris doctorate from Harvard’s prestigious school of law. Mark had followed John to Morehouse, graduating with honors and a dual degree in engineering and physics.
And then there’d been Luke. The baby of the family had finally graduated from Texas Southern University with a degree in business management. Luke had done the six-year program, his two freshman years causing John much angst as the young man’s focus had been on everything but his studies. And each of them had eventually thrown their hats into the Stallion ring, committing themselves fully to the company.
Looking around the table, John couldn’t help but smile. His dreams come true had been more than even he had imagined. John knew their parents would have been proud. His gaze fell on Luke, who returned his smile as if he’d been able to read the older man’s thoughts.
John turned his attention back to business. “Let’s move on,” he said softly.
A stack of manila folders rested in the center of the table. John pulled one file in particular from the heap waiting for his attention. He studied the typed file label only briefly before handing the profile of documentation to Luke. Leaning back in the cushioned executive’s chair, John clasped his hands together in his lap. He nodded his head in Luke’s direction, and the young man’s eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and rising excitement as his older brother began to speak.
“Luke, you’ve been doing an excellent job for us. Your work has been truly impressive. We were thrilled with the results you managed to attain with the union negotiations. Both sides have commended your actions. As well, the legal department had some good things to say about what you did on that last acquisition.”
Luke’s lips bent into a slight smile as his other siblings nodded their agreement.
John gestured in Mark and Matthew’s direction as he continued. “We’ve been discussing what’s next for you, and we all agree that you might be ready to handle your own division.”
Excitement pulled at Luke’s expression. “Might?” the young man questioned, looking from one sibling to the other.
“Time will tell,” John said, shrugging his broad shoulders.
A look of confusion washed over Luke’s expression. “So, what does that mean?”
John leaned forward, his clasped hands moving from his lap to the conference tabletop. “It means that you are now solely responsible for the West End rejuvenation project.”
Matthew nodded. “We will support whatever you want to do as long as you stay within the parameters dictated by the town council.”
Mark interjected. “And please, don’t irritate the mayor. We need him on our side.”
John continued. “The details of the budget and the town council’s criteria are all there. From start to finish you have exactly two years to get this project completed. Right now, you have eight weeks to pull your team together. I need you to give us your assessment of the property acquisitions, any revisions to the original proposal and budget and a detailed timeline. Any questions?”
“What’s the budget?”
“One hundred million dollars, and not a penny more. Do you think you can handle it?” John answered.
Luke nodded, grinning broadly. “I welcome the challenge.”
Matthew clasped his hands together on top of the table. “We hope so, baby brother. This one’s a big deal. This rejuvenation project will be a coup for the city of Dallas and Stallion Enterprises’ reputation. We’re putting a lot of trust in you. If you really want to impress us, come in twenty million dollars under budget without compromising the integrity of the project.”
Luke came to his feet, extending a large hand toward John. “You won’t be disappointed,” he said as he shook his brother’s hand, his broad smile warming his dark face. “Thank you for the trust.”
John nodded. “Just remember, if you need help, don’t be too proud to let someone know. The only stupid question is the one you don’t ask.”
Pure adrenaline fueled Luke Stallion’s ride from the corporate offices of Stallion Enterprises’ luxury high-rise to the deteriorating Oak Cliff neighborhood the family was intent on revitalizing. It was a typical inner-city, working-class neighborhood renowned for its booming atmosphere back in the 1950s and 60s. Time had painted a new but not improved façade over the landscape despite the efforts of many grassroots and church organizations working to bring the community back to its original glow. The Stallions were hoping to do their part to inject some much-needed energy back into the area.
Parking his Mercedes coupe on the street, the young man exited the vehicle, set the lock and alarm, deposited six quarters into the meter and set out on foot to explore the strained area.
The first lesson his brother John had taught them all was to learn every single detail of any venture they were pursuing. The more knowledge gained, the better, inevitably preparing them for the unexpected. Even before graduating from high school, Luke had been allowed to follow behind his brothers as they’d pursued their many business acquisitions. Luke vividly remembered trailing on John’s heels as his brother had inspected every one of the steel ships that would become the cornerstone of their shipping empire. Luke had just been fifteen years old, and at the age of twenty-four his big brother had been recognized as the youngest self-made billionaire CEO.
Luke recognized that he had some pretty big Texas boots to fill in order to reap half the success John had. The fact that Mark and Matthew had achieved just as much notoriety since joining the family business didn’t make the challenges ahead of him any easier. He welcomed the opportunity to prove himself worthy of his brothers’ trust and looked forward to using this project to garner some attention of his own. He sighed, pausing to study the empty storefronts and dilapidated buildings that landscaped the neighborhood.
His thoughts trailed back to the earlier banter between him and his siblings. He and Matthew joked good-naturedly about John and Mark marrying as quickly as they had. Both men had fallen head over heels in love before any of them had realized it. Although Luke professed to not being able to imagine himself falling in love and committing to any one woman, he had to admit that the idea had recently become especially appealing.
Luke liked the changes that had come over Mark and John. They were both more relaxed and easygoing since they’d gotten married. Both of them reeked of pure contentment, seemingly enjoying fabulously full relationships. Luke loved to witness the attention the wives lavished upon them—both Mark’s wife, Michelle, and Marah, John’s wife, committed wholeheartedly to the men in their lives. Luke secretly wished that for himself.
Being young and single had its moments, Luke mused, but he was hardly determined to keep it that way. For the moment he considered bachelorhood only a game of time and one that he played well, but he wasn’t interested in taking it to a championship. The carefree lifestyle and the many beautiful women that went along with it was one thing, but the emotional security and companionship John and Mark had attained definitely appeared more desirable.
Being a master of casual romance had begun to grow weary on his spirit, and Luke felt he was almost ready to just let it all go. His big brothers had taught him well, but they’d also shown him that moving on had its positives. As if to prove that thought, Luke couldn’t help but admire an Asian beauty who was peeking out of the door of a small variety store on the corner. He winked an easy eye and tilted his head in greeting as she tossed him a wide smile of snow-white teeth.
But relationships aside, at this point in his young life, what Luke wanted more than anything else was to prove himself capable of running his own division. In that moment, that was far more important than any romantic commitment could begin to be.
An hour later Luke had managed to circle the twenty blocks twice, stopping periodically to speak with the residents and remaining shopkeepers to ask their opinion about their neighborhood. Many had eyed him warily but were eventually taken in by his boyish good looks and charismatic demeanor. His warm personality was captivating, drawing people to him, and Luke worked that to his advantage, inciting conversation out of the more wary personalities.
One of the senior citizens had pointed him in the direction of the local community center, a makeshift facility housed in an abandoned warehouse off Arkansas Avenue. The building was home to the youth and senior centers, the food bank and a temporary shelter for families displaced from their homes. Although maintenance and upkeep of the building were funded through the city’s budget, there was barely enough money to keep the lights on. Infrequent donations from a few generous benefactors and volunteers helped to offset many of the expenses that would have closed the center’s doors and sent many back into the streets to fend for themselves.
Luke stood at the bottom of the steps of the facility peering up at the glass doors that beckoned him inside. The old man who’d guided him to the entrance pointed with his left index finger, his right hand clutching a brown paper bag as if it were filled with gold. Luke nodded his gratitude.
“Thanks,” he said, pressing a crisp twenty-dollar bill into the old man’s wrinkled hand. “I appreciate the help.”
The old guy threw him a toothless grin. “No problem! Like I told you, this here is the heart of Oak Cliff. If you want to know what this neighborhood needs, sonny boy, you’ll find it here,” the man exclaimed excitedly as he turned an about-face, his newly gotten gains waving between his fingers.
Luke smiled warmly, watching as the man disappeared out of sight. With one last glance over his shoulder he climbed the short span of stairs, pulled the glass doors open and stepped inside.
A rush of noise and the pungent scent of lemon disinfectant greeted him at the entrance. A large reception area with a massive counter that spanned the lengths of two walls sat at the room’s center. The floor was a checkerboard of black-and-white linoleum, the covering worn thin from age. The walls were painted a vibrant sunshine-yellow, the bright color gleaming with energy. Select posters of beaming parents and children above messages of encouragement smiled down on them, the décor sparse but warming.
There were four children—three little girls and a small boy—playing in the center of the floor. The space around them was strewn with plastic blocks and Matchbox cars. A teenage girl sat watching from one of two wooden benches, her gaze moving back and forth between the noise of their childish banter and the paperback book that rested open in her lap.
The young woman glanced in the direction of the door that had closed loudly behind Luke. She met his curious stare with one of her own, her mouth slowly lifting into a friendly smile. Luke smiled back, lifting his hand in a slight wave. Before he could ask for assistance, the little boy let out a loud scream, calling out to everyone that could hear that there was a strange man in the lobby.