“My life.”
Interesting.
“What about it?”
“I mean, you always tell me we’ve got this one life, and there’s no sense wasting it. We should pursue our dreams and passions if we’re going to live a full life. You’ve always said that, right?”
“Of course, dude.”
“So, I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately. Working at BHG is cool, but it’s not fulfilling. Overseeing the events planning in the US is a great responsibility, and I kick ass at it. But I don’t feel fulfilled at the end of the day. I feel like I’m still wrestling with some stuff I can’t let go. And lately, when I chill and get in my space, I’m finding I want something more.”
“Like?”
“I’m still trying to figure that part out. That’s why I want to move up here. It’s time for a different vibe. I’ve got a lot of ideas brewing in my head, but I need to figure out what I want to do and how to expand on those ideas. I’d like to know I can count on your support.”
“You got it.”
He grew silent for a moment. I turned sideways in my seat, pulling my feet underneath me.
The muscles in his arm flexed as he turned the steering wheel to maneuver down a side street.
I thought about how supportive my family had been of my dream. My life was all about dance since I enrolled in ballet and jazz dance since the age of eight. My parents and my sister and older brother had sacrificed whatever they needed to for me to have this chance. And I don’t know where I would be, were it not for them.
To fully live out your dreams, you need a sound support system. For me to become the woman I am, I needed my family. I wanted to be that for Kent because I sensed he might need it in the coming days and months.
“Settling down. Wonder what that means for the great Kent Black,” I mused.
He laughed and glanced sideways at me.
“The same thing it means for most people,” he said.
“Usually, that’s cutting out the partying, the alcohol, the late nights, and...chilling with one girl.”
My belly tightened as I spoke those words. Slowly my eyes trailed from Kent’s hand wrapped around the steering wheel, up his muscular arm sprinkled with smooth blonde hairs and to his jaw. I didn’t see the clenching I expected to be there.
Instead, he was relaxed, a smirk playing around his lips.
“I can settle down with one girl.”
“Bullshit,” I called, wishing he didn’t have those black sunglasses on that kept me from seeing his eyes.
His pouty lips lifted into a full reckless grin. One that broke hearts everywhere he went. Carelessly he dragged a hand through his hair, his messy quiff falling right back into place. The sides tapered into a low fade.
“It’s not bull, Mads. I can settle down with one girl,” he said, turning his head to meet my gaze head-on.
Damn, I wish he’d remove those sunglasses so I could see his eyes.
“You believe that, don’t you?”
“That’s not the question.”
“Then what’s the question, KB?”
“The question is, what do I need to do to make you believe it?”
We’d come to a stop at the traffic light, and he’d turned his head in my direction again. This time his green eyes met mine over the top of his sunglasses.
I shuddered at the look in his eyes. Turning my gaze away from his, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. Finally, gathering my composure, I said, “It’s not me you have to convince, KB. The girl you’re trying to settle down with is the one you have to convince.”
Feeling his gaze still on me and wishing the light would change, I turned towards him again.
“Again...what do I need to do to make you believe it?”
Shit!
CHAPTER 6 – KENT
I glanced around the room at the executives gathered at the table, then cast my gaze at my watch. The mood in the room was tense. Everyone cast sideways glances at their phones and one another.
I decided to relieve everyone of their stress. My eyes flickered over to Mason Sharpe, my attorney. Scooting my chair back, I stood and prepared to leave.
“Wait, Mr. Black, I assure you Tyson Reynolds will be here any second,” Michael Pitch, the attorney for Power Up said, hopping frantically out of his seat. The rest of the execs were in various forms of motion, whether half-standing, swiveling in their chairs, checking their phones, or moving in my direction, everyone was up in arms.
“The meeting was scheduled for ten, Pitch. Time is money, and money is time. I have another meeting in less than an hour in Alpharetta. If it weren’t for the fact I have my helicopter on standby on the roof of your building right now, I wouldn’t even make that on time, when you factor in the traffic between midtown and Alpharetta, along with waiting for half an hour for a no-show. What I don’t have time for is senior executives late to their meeting,” I snarled, walking for the door. “Tyson Reynolds called this meeting, not me. You can tell Mr. Reynolds not to bother wasting his time contacting me. I value mine.”
Power Up was an up and coming sports beverage company that was looking to have their brand in the gym I would be building in my condo project.
I’d had the design created but still had no building. It didn’t matter, though. The “Black” name made everyone want a piece.
The executives at Power Up knew my project would become the first of many that I planned. But my interest in taking them on waned quickly when the executive failed to show for our meeting on time.
Moving past Michael Pitch and the other executives who had gathered around him, I pulled the door open, straightening my grey suit jacket. Behind me were my attorneys, Mason Sharpe and Rafael Nunez, my former college roommate and retired hockey star, Riley Herndon, and my brother, Greyson.
“But, please, Mr. Black. This company values your time, the hard work you’ve put into building the concept marketing around Panorama Heights, and what you represent. I’m sure if Mr. Reynolds has not arrived, there’s a valid reason,” Sarah Arnold, the VP of marketing for Power Up, interjected.
“That reason should have been communicated.” I pushed through the door, their pleas falling on deaf ears as my team and I made our way to the elevators.
Pushing the button, we all waited in silence as the numbers dinged on the elevator announcing its arrival at each floor.
When it finally arrived at our floor, the doors opened to reveal a harried Tyson Reynolds.
We stepped onto the elevator as he was preparing to step off.
“Mr. Black! Please forgive my delay. I had an urgent meeting in Chicago yesterday, and my flight was delayed this morning.”
I turned around on the elevator to face the closing doors. With a simple nod of my head, which Tyson Reynolds perceived as my acknowledgment of his statement, I signaled to Mason to push the closed button.
As the doors began to close on Tyson Reynolds, his mouth dropped open in shock and disbelief.
No one spoke a word until after the doors had closed, and the elevator had begun ascending.
Riley whistled. “Cold.”
“Like snow, baby,” Greyson replied, shaking his head and biting back a chuckle.
I turned my gaze to my big brother. “We waited for over half an hour. That was more than fair.”
“But the man was right there,” Riley countered.
“Too bad. I’ve got a team across town assembled and waiting for us now. Besides, Power Up needs us as much as we need them. Rejuven8, on the other hand, we need them,” I pointed out.
“You’re starting to sound like Dad,” Greyson said a firm note in his tone.
“Dad would never have tolerated that. If the team was not assembled upon his arrival, Grey, you know he would have turned around and left.”
Casting a sharp glance my way, he said, “Don’t be like Dad.”
We made our way to the stairwell that led to the rooftop so we could fly across town to Alpharetta.
&nbs
p; AFTER A HARRIED DAY of meeting with vendors to determine what brands we wanted to represent in our stores and restaurant, my first instinct was to find Madison. She was at the studio practicing as she always was. I sat in a corner, watching as she ran through her routine repeatedly for nearly an hour before she stopped. The other dancers had long since left, but Madison was ever the perfectionist.
As I watched her work harder, I recalled a conversation I’d had with Greyson earlier.
Would I be able to structure a plan that would allow me to balance time with my business and family and friends? Or would I work to the exclusion of all else and become like my father?
Was I willing to work the grueling hours my company demanded to grow it to the level of my father’s? Would I become a slave to it to the exclusion of all else? Or could I be successful and have love, and a family, the way Greyson had managed to do, and Mitch and Grant were learning to do?
Although I worked for the family’s corporation, it wasn’t my passion. I was just damned good at what I did and made easy work of it. It was time for me to let go.
My two oldest brothers had done an excellent job of avoiding the media. Not so much for Mitch and me. Greyson always jokingly referred to Mitch and me as media whores. Mitch didn’t like the attention but couldn’t seem to avoid it.
Me, on the other hand, I’d used it in my favor. During my college years and the year after I’d graduated, I’d done some modeling and had a considerable following. Even after I’d stopped modeling, people still followed me on social media and other media outlets.
I learned early on to use that to my advantage. I’d used that following to build publicity for XClusive, Black Ice, and Black Chrome, my casual clothing, fragrance, and watch lines. Between managing those and now building this residential complex, along with working for Black Hospitality Group, I knew I’d need to let go of something soon. There was no question about what that “something” would be.
By the time Madison finished, sweat pouring off her body and her tank top and little booty shorts clinging to her toned body, I was cramped in my little huddle in the corner. I’d worked hard to make sure I wasn’t a distraction in her dance environment, ensuring she had all the space she needed to dance.
“Hey, there. I didn’t expect to see you here today. I thought you’d be gone back to Savannah,” she said.
“I was. Had to return,” I said.
“Are we relocating or something?” she asked as I tossed her towel at her.
She caught it and wiped the sweat from her brow as I picked up her bags.
“Something like that,” I said, grinning sheepishly at her.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve had a few meetings today with vendors who are interested in being our go-to vendors of choice.”
“And?” she asked as we left the studio.
“The first meeting of the morning was a bust.”
“Aww, I’m sorry,” she said, pulling the towel down her face. “I know how important this is to you.”
“It’s good. That was his loss. The entire team was there, but the man with the power to make decisions was late. Then he gave me some bullshit excuse about a meeting in Chicago and a flight delay.”
“That could’ve happened, KB,” she said, placing the towel around her neck as we headed down the street.
“It could have. But all I heard was someone else’s business was more important than mine. Besides, Power Up’s an up and coming company, too, and they need us as much as we need them.”
“So, what about the other meetings?”
“The other three were slam dunks. We still have to work out the details of the contract for one, but our lawyers are on top of that. The other two were simple, and we knocked it out the way today,” I said, feeling great about all I had accomplished.
“Congratulations, KB! I’m so proud of you. Look at you, making moves in the world,” she said, winking at me.
When we arrived at her building, I waited while she pulled out her key card and unlocked the double glass entry doors with a swipe of her card.
“What’s next?” she asked once we were inside the building and took the elevator to her floor.
“Next, I need to lock in the land I’ll be building on. I’ve got a lot of interest out there, so it won’t be a problem getting products in the spaces, or staff to work the stores. I just have to get residents to fill the empty condo spaces. We’ve already designed a marketing plan to attract attention once we start building.”
“Well, people are always looking for somewhere to go. Something new and better than what they have,” she said, as we stepped off the elevator.
“Yeah, I’m not stressing it.”
“Hey, why don’t you whip us up a sandwich while I go shower and change?” Madison asked after we stepped inside her apartment.
No sooner had the door closed than she was pulling her sweatshirt over her head as she toed her shoes off.
“Sure,” I replied, moving toward the kitchen.
I fumbled around in the refrigerator removing three different types of deli meat, cheeses, bread, tomatoes, and other sandwich toppings. My mind went over various locations I could purchase as I prepared our meal.
All of them involved a conversation with my father. There was no way around seeking his advice. And seeking his advice would include sharing my plans with him and letting him know I was leaving the company.
By the time Madison returned from her shower, I had prepared our sandwiches, a salad to accompany them, and grabbed a couple of bottles of water.
“Looks good,” she said, grabbing hers and leading us into the living room.
“Thanks,” I said, biting into mine.
This was what I loved about Madison. I didn’t have to prove she meant the world to me. She already knew it.
There were no expectations laid out for me to behave a certain way because of who my family was or the money we had. Not that I minded doing that for her, but she was cool no matter what I did, as long as we spent quality time together. She truly treasured my friendship and not what she could get out of me.
“Sooo, have you had time to think about how you’re going to balance all you’ve got going on?” she asked, turning her head sideways to bite into the monster sandwich I prepared for her.
“That’s why I dropped by the studio. I wanted your input,” I said, reaching over and tugging Madison’s long hair.
She smirked at me, and we shared a look before she dropped her eyes to her plate.
“How so?”
“Well, I can do what I’ve been doing from Savannah. Managing my fragrance, clothing, and watch lines are a no-brainer. I have a virtual assistant that keeps all of those meetings scheduled for me, schedules my photoshoots and commercials I might have to do. My financial planner’s on top of my revenue, expenses, and investments. I keep a close eye on it, as well, but she’s doing a wonderful job, so I don’t stress about that.”
“So, what’s your problem?”
“With this live-work-play area and future projects like that, I’m wondering if I can sufficiently do what I need to do from Savannah. Or should I relocate here?”
“Here,” she said, her head popping up from her food.
“Yes. I think it would be easier with all the meetings to be here rather than to fly or drive back and forth to Savannah.”
A smile trembled at the corners of her lips before it turned into a full-fledged grin.
“I think you should do it, KB. You’ve got nothing to lose. You have to fly up here to do commercials, and photoshoots from time to time anyway, except when the location is in New York, Miami, or L.A. So, if building the condo project requires your focus to be in the A, and everything else allows you to work from any location, I’d suggest you go for it. It doesn’t get any better than this for you.”
Those were all valid points, and I had one more I could add to it. Being in Atlanta brought me closer to her and closer to my mission to make her mine.
&nb
sp; “Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ve been in talks about purchasing a few different properties, but I’m going to have to bring my father in on it. I need to assess the most viable option. Then I need to touch base with Angie, one of our realtors, so I can start searching for a home up here. I’m not so sure I’m ready to let Dad know I’m leaving the company yet.”
“I think you’ll have no choice. KB, for you to rock this shit and be the best you can be, you’ve got to let go of what’s weighing you down. And right now, that’s BHG because it’s not benefiting you in any form. The company can hire another director, but you won’t always have these opportunities, dude. You need to spend every moment building your company. No one can knock you for that. I mean, take me, for instance. I spend a lot of time working on this craft. I choreograph dances that have nothing to do with the upcoming performances we have. I attend classes and teach workshops. Everything I do has everything to do with the company and my aspirations as a ballerina, corporately, and individually.”
“I guess you’re right. There’s so much to do, and I don’t want to let my father down. He’s been happy since I stopped flying strippers and rappers into the family compound and having weekend parties all the time. Seeing me at the company makes him proud, you know? And even though he doesn’t say it, I know it does. Especially since Grant left.”
“Sounds like you’ve got some pretty tough decisions to make. You’re going to have to let something go. What that is, will be up to you,” Madison replied, lifting an eyebrow.
“I know. I’m thinking of moving in with Nolan temporarily until I get a place of my own.”
“Nolan? Nolan Banks?”
“You know another one?” I asked, taking in the disapproving look on her face.
Shaking her head, she lowered her gaze from mine.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mads, what?” I said in a forceful tone as her gaze lifted to mine again.
“He’s just...he’s so wild, KB. And if you’re serious about changing your ways and being a better person, I don’t see how you can successfully do it under that guy. He’s always drinking, doing drugs, photographed with numerous women, and getting in fights at the club. His overall lifestyle is risky. I think you need to find a more stable situation if you’re going to make the moves you want to make.”
Smooth: The Sons of Victor Black: A BWWM Romance Page 4
