The Only One for Me

by Toni Jackson

  The only one for Me

  by

  Toni Jackson

  Copyright © 2015 by Toni Jackson

  Cover design by Christopher A Brown

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright @ 2015 Toni Jackson

  All Rights Reserved.

  CHAPTER 1

  Sean Davenport reclined in the soft black leather chair that coordinated with his onyx desk. Dark red walls surrounded him in the quietly elegant space that served as the heart of his empire’s operation. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows, bathing the walls in a golden glow. Windows covered the length of the entire wall behind him, giving Sean a breathtaking view of the city he loved. There was a special connection for him here. The office and furniture had once belonged to his father.

  When he assumed control, he left everything the same. Every day it reminded him of the struggle and sacrifices his father endured to build the company before his death.

  A shrewd investor and businessman, Gregory Davenport worked eighty-hour weeks to establish Davenport Corporation. Sean and his mother, Elinor, often would not see him for days. No one was surprised when the stress caught up with Gregory. At forty-nine, his father died of a massive heart attack in his office, two months before Sean’s twenty-fifth birthday.

  A grim smile crossed Sean’s face. His entire life his family, teachers and even business associates drove him to succeed. As the only child of Gregory Davenport, Sean drew up knowing he shouldered a heavy responsibility. He had been groomed his entire life to take over the legacy of Davenport Corporation.

  When Sean turned nine, his father slowly began to involve him in the day-to-day operations of the company while still allowing him to experience life on his own terms. He would bring Sean into the office for a few hours, before having him taken back home. There were days when other activities would prevent Sean from going to the office, but he always treasured the times he did. It was exciting, but in some ways, Sean felt he was visiting a stranger.

  Sean’s father lacked any real warmth. The only emotions he showed involved the company. He was consumed by the overwhelming need to leave something behind that would be remembered.

  His father’s death changed Sean’s life. He assumed the day-to-day operations of the company, slipping into his father’s role with little effort. His expectations were higher… and the way he lived his life was a large part of the change. One of the things that stood out in Sean’s mind was the need to keep the company in the family. He was an only child, as were both of his parents. For Sean, it was imperative that the Davenport name continue. He refused to let Gregory’s legacy fall into the hands of strangers.

  Unfortunately, one thing stood between Sean and the fulfillment of this expectation.

  After years of preparing himself and building up The Davenport Corporation into one of the most powerful companies in the world, Sean discovered a peculiar irony. He carried a rare blood trait that could destroy his hopes and dreams.

  Thanks to this condition, no woman could conceive his child…unless the woman carried the same or similar trait. The odds staggered Sean’s mind.

  “A one in seven-million chance,” the doctors told him regarding the probability of his compatibility success.

  Good thing the son of Gregory Davenport never believed in the odds.

  Lucky for him, being powerful, rich and determined had its benefits.

  Sean placed his best private investigators and hackers on the path of determining the extremely small pool of women able to bear his child. Over the past few years, having an heir had become his obsession. There was no way would he let all of his hard work - and his father’s - fall into the hands of some money-grubbing stranger upon his death.

  Every day he left his house knowing there was a chance he might not make it to the job alive. The thought of it terrified him and kept him awake at night. He could barely wait until his team found his match. His preference was to have her as a surrogate. Although he wanted a child, the thought of a wife was a daunting one. All she had to do was agree to artificial insemination with Sean’s sperm, adhere to strict specifications of diet, living conditions and any other methodology Sean deemed worthy of his unborn heir, and then deliver the child to him at birth, giving up all her parental rights to the child.

  Seam found most people thought he was insensitive to believe a woman would be heartless enough to agree to such a plan. However, early in life Sean discovered the spellbinding power of money and its ability to assuage people’s morality. Sean believed he could definitely win the woman’s cooperation.

  All he had to do was find her.

  For the past two years, his investigators had worked around the clock trying to locate someone compatible. Sean knew these things took time, but he was starting to get impatient. With all of the resources at his team’s disposal, he knew that they should have discovered something by now. His frustration escalated with every negative result.

  There was no use trying to concentrate on his paperwork. Sean’s mind refused focus on the mundane while the search continued. Pushing away from the desk, he prepared to go into his first meeting of the day. Picking up his portfolio, he stepped away from the desk then paused when his secretary informed him that Sam McKennon, his head investigator, was on the line.

  Sean frowned. It was unusual for McKennon to call mid-morning. He took a deep breath, trying not to get his hopes up. The team usually delivered progress reports daily in the late afternoon. His mind raced with possibilities as he hesitantly hit the intercom to respond.

  “Patch him through and tell my first meeting that I’ll be in shortly.”

  Sean sat back down in his chair and took a deep breath. He noticed the slight tremor in his hand as he picked up the receiver.

  “Davenport.”

  “Sean, this is McKennon.” Sean pictured McKennon sitting in his office, his favorite size thirteen cowboy boots propped on his desk and the Stetson hat he never removed, pushed back from his forehead. He reminded Sean of the detective McCloud from the old 70’s television show.

  McKennon worked for Sean’s father for years, providing security. Now, he supervised Sean’s physical and cyber security teams. He was one of the few people Sean trusted implicitly.

  Sean picked up his pen and began tapping it on the desk. Taking several deep breaths, Sean forced himself to calm down. “You have news for me?”

  There was a slight pause.

  “We’ve found a match.”

  Although Sean had hoped for good news, he never expected to receive it. His pen dropped from his fingers. Now, just when he had almost given in and believed the doctors were right, his hard work seemed about to pay off.

  “Where?” Sean asked.

  The sound of papers shuffling traveled to him through the telephone. “Actually, right on the other side of town.”

  Closing his eyes, Sean fought to keep his voice steady. To think he had nearly given up when she was so close…

  Sean’s voice, when he spoke, echoed his disbelief. “You’ve been searching for two years, and when you finally manage to locate someone, they’re right on the other side of town?” Sean’s anger was evident in the hushed tone of his words.

  McKennon, unfazed by Sean’s anger answered, “You
have to understand, we weren’t able to find her until we opened up the search. From your original criteria,” McKennon paused hoping he would not have to mention the previous economic, racial, educational and taste preferences Sean had previously given the team. “There wasn’t anyone. It wasn’t until we expanded the search that we found someone. It wasn’t like we could just go pick someone off the shelf.”

  Sean stayed silent as he waited for McKennon to finish. He took the time to pull himself together. It was hard to believe that after so much time, he was on the verge of achieving his goal. “So who is she?”

  “She’s an up and coming artist by the name of Danielle Knox. Does sculptures. Seems to be doing pretty well for herself. Getting lots of recognition for her work.”

  Sitting forward, Sean’s mind was already working ahead to his next step. “Do you think she would be willing to go along with my plans?”

  McKennon hesitated again before replying. “In all honesty? No.”

  Sean frowned and sat straighter in his chair. “Why not?”

  “I’ll send over the files we have on her and you can judge for yourself. We’ve interviewed a few people about her. Their statements are in the file. Ms. Knox seems determined to do things on her own, without the interference of other people’s ideas and manipulations to steer her off her own course. Seems that there have been benefactors that have offered to help her set up studios, teach, whatever she wanted to do.”

  “She’s that talented?” Sean’s mind raced. Maybe he could use her ambition to his advantage. Someone who fully vested in their career would not want to have the responsibility of a child, would they? If he was careful, this could work to his advantage.

  “I don’t know anything about art, but even I like the pieces I’ve seen.” Coming from a rough and rugged man like McKennon, that was saying a lot.

  Sean thought about his next course of action. “Send me the information - including all of her medical records.”

  “They’re on their way.”

  “Oh, and McKennon,” Sean asked, “Are there pictures?”

  “Yeah. She’s a pretty little thing,” McKennon laughed. “Not your usual type though.”

  Sean wondered what he meant.

  CHAPTER 2

  The folder containing the woman’s information was waiting on Sean’s desk when he returned from his meeting that afternoon. He flipped through the report, carefully scanning the details, determined not to miss anything. Anyone seeing him would think that he was planning a company takeover. In some ways, he was. He absorbed every detail, from her favorite color to the type of soap she used. The more he read, the more he realized that McKennon was right. This woman, Danielle Knox, was not the type to act as a surrogate for money.

  Her father, Daniel Knox, had died in a car accident when she was a baby. Her mother, Katherine, an only child, and Danielle’s maternal grandfather, Colby, raised her. Both of them died just before Danielle’s eighteenth birthday. There were no cousins or other relatives around, much like himself. Danielle was alone in the world. Still, everything Sean’s team discovered said that this woman had a strong sense of independence.

  The next page of the report detailed her life after high school. Danielle attended the D’Allonge école d’art school in New York for several years. The report listed several relationships since then, but evidently, none that made her take things to the next level, since according to her medical records she was still a virgin. Sean took the time to digest all of this information as he reached over for the envelope of photos that he had saved until last. He paused, afraid of what he might find.

  What if she looked like a Saint Bernard?

  Instead, Sean found himself relieved and very surprised.

  Smiling for the first time since he started his personal mission, he decided McKennon was right. Danielle Knox was not his usual type.

  However, she was still beautiful.

  He thought of the models, debutantes, and actresses that were his usual dates. Sean never cared for any of them. They were the eye candy expected on the arm of someone rich and famous. Tall, svelte woman who looked like they never ate anything but carrot sticks and water. It struck Sean as funny that he had never considered that the woman they found would not be white. He had never even realized it until this particular moment of staring into the face of an exquisite brown-skinned black woman.

  Sean knew that there were still some that would frown on a prominent white businessman having a relationship with a black woman. As far as Sean was concerned, anyone’s issues with the possibility of the relationship were their own. They may have an issue with it, but the Davenport Corporation held a strong enough position in the business world to survive it. They could accept his choice, or he could ruin them.

  It was that simple.

  Sean never had an issue of dating outside his race, he had just never found a woman - black or otherwise - who made him want to take things to the next level. Danielle Knox’s picture made him visualize the future. Family and children, definitely more than one.

  According to the records, she was twenty-eight, five-four, one hundred and twenty-five pounds. The pictures included in the package showed a petite woman with flawless dark brown skin and long, dark hair braided into a ponytail and that hung down past her shoulders.

  As Sean studied her picture, he had the urge to see if Danielle’s skin was as soft as it looked. His only disappointment with the report was the inability to tell much about her figure from the photos.

  Placing the pictures aside, Sean turned back to the file. A notation on one side of the documents stated that Danielle’s gallery was hosting an invitation-only showing downtown on September twenty-first. Looking over at his calendar, Sean realized the date was only three days away. Making a mental note to attend, he realized that this would be a perfect opportunity for him to meet Danielle and make a decision on how he wanted to proceed.

  Sean continued reading, making sure he did not miss any pertinent details. It was not until he was looking through her medical records that he paused. His eyes narrowed as he did some mental calculations and smiled. If he was careful, everything might work out to his advantage after all.

  Opening his briefcase, he slid the file inside and snapped it closed. His mind was already working out details as he exited his office and stopped by his assistant’s desk.

  Ms. Davis was nothing if not efficient. Her desk was spotless except for two trays that contained incoming and outgoing correspondence. She looked up at her boss and smiled when he stopped at her desk.

  “Yes, Mr. Davenport?”

  “I’m leaving for the day, Ms. Davis. I need one invitation to the Visions Gallery Piedmont for their showing on Friday night.”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered. A pen and pad magically appeared on her desk, her pen making scratching noises on the notepad as her employer watched her take notes.

  “If anything major happens, I’ll be available on my cell phone.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ms. Davis answered, nodding. Sean said good night and walked towards the elevator, knowing Ms. Davis, he would have the invitation by morning.

  Sean decided to plot his strategy tonight. If this was going to work, he had plans he needed to put into place. He could not afford to have anything go wrong.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sunlight streamed through the windows into the small workshop Danielle had created in her garage, highlighting the particles of dust floating through the air. Danielle had the garage closed in, with a door leading to the driveway. It helped that it was an attached garage. A contractor managed to run vents through to the workshop from the house to give her heating and air conditioning, as well as improved ventilation.

  Sounds of a hammer tapping lightly against a chisel echoed throughout the room over the soft rhythm of R&B pouring from the radio. Danielle’s fierce expression spoke to her concentration. The painstaking definition of every curve and line of her sculptures was Danielle’s signature, gaining her work greater and grea
ter recognition by critics of her field. Completely engrossed in her work, Danielle missed hearing her friend and manager, Clayton Thomas walk into the room.

  “Hey, Dani baby!” Dani took a moment to finish the curving shoulder she had been outlining before looking up. Taking a deep breath, she felt relieved that this piece was almost finished. After two months straight working on sculptures for her show, she was more than ready for a break.

  “Hi, Clayton.” Dani smiled at the picture he presented standing in her dusty workshop. Dressed head to toe in his standard somber black, making his olive complexion seem paler. Clayton was being his usual melodramatic self. He walked around the sculpture, not saying a word. Dani smiled at his attempts to look like a serious art critic. The only thing missing was a black tam cocked to the side and pencil-thin mustache etched on his thin face.

  Clayton stopped, hands on his hips. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

  “Thanks.” She smirked. One thing Dani never had to worry about was Clayton inflating her ego. Her closest friend in art school, Clayton had proven repeatedly that he had an eye for art. When they had graduated, Clayton came back and started a gallery. Clayton never spoke of how he acquired the money, and Dani never asked. Any kind of financial talk sailed over her head; she never understood how those matters worked. Paying bills on time flustered Dani. If not for her automatic bill payer, she would be in trouble. Clayton commissioned and displayed other artists to pay the ongoing bills of running a decent gallery, but his main goal had always been to support - and when necessary, push - Dani’s artistic talent.

  She was going to be a star…Clayton could sense it.

  Clayton raised an eyebrow at his best friend. As usual, Dani’s work inspired his business side. “Will you be finished with this one by tomorrow evening?” he asked.

  “It’s possible,” Dani shrugged. “If you promise to let me work all day tomorrow - undisturbed.”

  Clayton frowned. He had created quite a buzz around the showing he’d scheduled for Dani’s work the next day at his gallery. He zeroed in on his friend trying to fudge on the primping-time he knew she needed to get herself physically presentable to the art-buying public. “Dani, you know if I don’t hound you about getting dressed early, you’ll come to your own showing all dusty and dirty.” Clayton flailed his hands around for emphasis.