by A. C. Arthur
When nobody immediately replied to that statement, Rita reiterated her stance by saying, “Like I said, nobody wants one of the Jacksons, now.”
“So who is he and just how much money does he and his family have?” Jazz, the brother that separated Amber from Rita and Delta in age asked.
Jazz worked at a marketing firm, a job he’d only taken out of college to help repay his student loan bills. He really wanted to be a singer—and no, he swore his real name—which was Jazz Martin—had nothing to do with that. Jazz wrote music and sang in a band at a local club, but that was as close to his dream as he’d made it so far.
“His name is Brandon,” Amber said because she knew there was no getting out of this conversation now. She reminded herself to pinch Fiona later.
“Brandon Donovan,” Fiona added, this time with a wink in Amber’s direction.
Yeah, she was so regretting answering her sister’s early morning call and confessing everything that had happened over the last week. Luckily, she’d been too embarrassed by what had happened last night to divulge any of those details.
“Never heard of him,” Freddie said and continued to stack the cans in the pantry across the room. That was the assignment given to him for the duration of his life, since he was the only one tall enough to reach the top shelf without the help of a step stool. Freddie always joked about what Zelda would do once he moved too far away for her to simply call and ask him to come over and get something down for her.
“I hadn’t either,” Fiona admitted. “But I googled him this morning. They are loaded.”
“Yes, they are,” Jazz said. “The family started in oil and then the different children have branched out into their own wealth.”
“He’s just a guy I met on a boat,” Amber said and looked out the window.
She really did hope he was just a guy on a boat. To tell the truth, she’d googled Brandon and his family too, so she did know how much money they had and that they owned a private jet, and an island. None of that mattered to her because he was…just a guy on a boat.
“With a trust fund and a mansion,” Fiona quipped.
“He doesn’t live in the mansion in Houston. His father does. Brandon has his own apartment,” she said and then fell silent when she realized everyone was looking at her and no doubt hearing how defensive she sounded.
With a heavy sigh and a love/hate relationship with her nosey family, Amber decided there was only one thing to do now.
“Brandon and I met on day two of the cruise. We spent every day together after that. He’s a really nice guy who makes me laugh. He works in compliance and has no intention of ever leaving his home in Houston. So there, that’s all there is to know. Can we have dinner now?”
“Dinner’s not ready yet,” Zelda said matter-of-factly.
“You should stay away from him,” Jazz warned.
“Stay away from a handsome rich guy that makes her laugh? Why would that be?” Rita asked.
“Because his family’s bad news,” Jazz said.
Amber looked to Jazz then.
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“They’ve been in the news lately. Murder, escaped convicts, sex scandals. I’m surprised neither of you saw that in your Google search,” Jazz said with a frown.
Elder put his newspaper down and looked at Amber.
“I didn’t see any of that,” she said quietly.
The response was to her father who was looking at her as if he wanted to say “oh no, not again.” No, it wasn’t happening again was what she wanted to reply. She wasn’t walking blindly into a toxic relationship that she would have to struggle to dig her way out of. Not again.
“We talked like two people on vacation, about the present and nothing more. It doesn’t matter to me what his family does or did, he was just a guy on the ship,” Amber said and then got up from the table.
She went through the living room and to the powder room just off the hallway. There, she closed and locked the door behind her, wondering, for the first time, just who the hell Brandon Donovan really was, and why it even mattered? Why was her heart thumping in her chest as she’d heard the words “murder, escaped convicts, sex scandals”? It didn’t matter because he was just…no, she thought as she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the door where she leaned. Brandon was not just a guy on the ship. She knew that, even before her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she pulled it out to read the message.
I’m sorry for last night. Never done that before.
Amber hadn’t heard from Brandon all day. Then again, after the early morning call from Fiona, she’d kept pretty busy, finishing her laundry and doing some basic housecleaning until almost noon. Her afternoon had consisted of going through all of her mail and running errands, until finally she’d ended up at her parents’ house for the dinner that her mother was not going to allow her to cancel or postpone this time. She’d known that each of her siblings would be there, they hadn’t seen her in almost a year and that was a long time for a family as close as theirs. So, to a great extent she’d been really excited about the visit. Now, not so much.
No need to be sorry. It was my first time too.
She replied to Brandon and put her phone back into her pocket. Moving to the sink she turned on the water and splashed some onto her face. Overreacting wasn’t usually her style. Running away, definitely wasn’t something she did often, even when she should have. Everyone in that kitchen would attest to the fact that Amber should have run away from Billy months after she’d begun dating him. With a shake of her head and after taking a deep breath, Amber vowed to regain her focus.
But when she stepped out of the bathroom it was to see her father standing in front of the door.
“Hey daddy,” she said, dropping her hands to her sides.
“Are you planning on seeing this Donovan guy again?” Elder asked without preamble.
Later, Amber would ask herself why this conversation was continuing when she’d told everyone—a couple of times—that there was nothing serious going on between her and Brandon. For the moment, however, she shook her head.
“He lives in Houston and I live in Chicago. We’re not exactly close enough to go out on another date,” she replied.
“That’s not what I asked you,” her father responded.
“No. I’m not planning to see him again,” she said, which wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t asked her if she were going to talk to Brandon again. That, Amber imagined, she would, regardless of whatever her brother was talking about.
“That’s probably for the best,” he continued. “There’s no need asking for trouble.”
Amber looked at her father quizzically then. “What type of trouble are you talking about? Oh, you think because of what Jazz said he “heard” about the Donovan family that I would be getting involved in something dangerous?”
“I think that it’s always best to leave troubled people alone.”
“Brandon’s cousin was accused of murder months ago. He was since cleared of the charges. I already know that because my friend, Jenise, is his attorney.”
“Rich people can pay to make anything go away,” Elder continued, his strong arms folded across his chest.
His feet were planted a slight space a part as he stood there with what, Amber was just realizing, was his I’m-the-father-don’t-question-me stance.
“Jenise isn’t rich and she married Brandon’s cousin. She’s one of my closest friends and I trust her judgment. Besides, people often get the wrong idea about others that they don’t really know,” she said.
Amber wasn’t sure when this exchange became uncomfortable, but it was. She rubbed her palms down her thighs.
“And people don’t always know when there’s bad blood that they should steer clear of,” her father said after a few quiet moments.
“He’s just a guy I met, dad. There’s no need for all this ominous warning stuff. Now, you know mom hates when we eat late and I think the meal should be don
e by now,” Amber said and then walked away before her father could say another word.
She had no idea why he’d gone so serious all of a sudden and wanted to dismiss the interaction entirely, but she knew she wouldn’t. What she was going to do the minute she returned home, was call Jenise.
#
One Week Later
Houston
Tomorrow at ten o’clock in the morning. That was the time that Henry, Bernard and Albert were scheduled to have their DNA samples taken. The certified nurse was coming to Albert’s house, because that’s what Brandon had arranged. As for Dane, since they knew he was already in Houston because Bailey had seen him at the hospital, Trent had scheduled a meet and greet with the infamous ‘secret son’ for noon tomorrow. Adam, Linc, Keysa, Ian and Brock would be at the meeting as well. Bailey was already back in Connecticut finishing up a case she’d been working on there. Brandon had not returned to his apartment yet, because his father had been released from the hospital two days ago.
The world continued to turn, no matter the turmoil it may cost a person. That’s how Brandon had been thinking lately.
He’d talked to Amber a few times via text. They hadn’t had a phone conversation since the night of the…interlude. Brandon would like to think he wasn’t nervous about speaking to her especially since he’d apologized and she’d brushed off the entire incident. Their remaining contact had been friendly, not romantic, but not stressed in any way either. He’d liked the fact that there was one part of his life that didn’t give him a headache or make him want to yell with rage.
That thought had Brandon immediately recalling the conversation he’d had a few days ago when his father was still in the hospital. Uncles Henry and Everette were there checking on his father’s progress. There had been no stent procedure done, as the doctor’s had initially considered. Instead, they’d prescribed a daily regimen of aspirin, a beta-blocker, an ACE inhibitor and a statin. Albert would take these for the rest of his life. His father did not like hearing that news, any more than he’d liked what Brandon had to say.
“What’s going on with Donovan Oilwell?” he’d asked as casually as he could.
“I thought you were more concerned with investing other people’s money, Brandon,” Everette had said with a slight chuckle.
He apparently thought this was a joke. Brandon vehemently disagreed. He’d gone into the office that Sunday after speaking to Ty and he’d pulled up every email Margaret had sent in the last year. It had taken him hours to do so and when he’d finally finished later that day, he’d gone to Albert’s office in the Donovan Oilwell building. The security guards knew him there so they didn’t question why he was downtown at eight in the evening. There, Brandon had been able to get a glimpse of what had been happening at his family’s company. Now, he wanted the people responsible for running that company to come clean. With everything that had come to light in the past months, he wasn’t totally sure they’d be willing to do that.
“I’m concerned with whatever happens in this family, personally and on the business front,” Brandon replied to his uncle.
“As you should be,” Henry added. “Now what exactly are you asking us?”
Okay, his uncle wanted to get straight to the point now. That was just fine with Brandon.
“Someone’s been buying up the stock like you were running a sale,” Brandon told them. “That’s because your shareholders are nervous about something. This fear hasn’t spread globally yet. I know because I’ve spoken to Roark a few times and he’s gone over all the financials of Donovan Oilwell UK.”
Brandon paused and looked at each of the brothers. There was no shock on their faces. Not even a little.
“As far as I can tell,” Brandon continued. “Your buyers have been dropping off like flies. You’re losing accounts all over the country. Did any of you ever stop to wonder why?”
“We talked about this,” Albert said. “We scheduled meetings with all of our customers in an attempt to get to the bottom of the issues.”
“But that didn’t work,” Brandon said to his father.
Everette, who was in charge of customer accounts at Donovan Oilwell Las Vegas, rubbed a hand across his chin. He was known as one of the more thoughtful brothers. Brandon could basically agree with that classification. Everette, along with the Miami Seniors, Bruce and Reginald, possibly because they were the three youngest brothers, had always been the more easy going of the six. Albert, even though he was the oldest had always been the quietest of the bunch. On the other hand, Brandon considered Henry the coolest of the Senior Donovans, and not necessarily in a good sense. While Bernard, was hand’s down, the most authoritative brother, Henry had a low key type of edge to him. He didn’t yell or threaten, he simply did, and whether or not that was good or bad never seemed to matter.
With that said, it was no surprise to Brandon that Henry would be the one to respond.
“No. It didn’t work and we lost some key accounts. Businesses of this nature have up and down fluctuations, Brandon. You should know that considering you work with stocks and investments. There’s never any certainty there,” Henry said.
Brandon nodded. “You’re right, Uncle Henry. Performance fluctuations are always expected. But when there’s an obvious pattern, those unforeseen changes should be thoroughly evaluated and confronted.”
“We didn’t think there was a pattern,” Albert said, his voice still weaker than it had been. Sitting up in his bed now, however, Brandon had to admit that his father was looking much better than when he’d first visited him in the hospital.
“Not initially,” Albert continued.
“But eventually you began to see it. You guys are too smart not to have thought about this,” Brandon said.
The brothers remained silent.
“Oh yeah, you thought about it. You talked about it and you knew something was going on. But I’ll bet you got it all wrong,” he said.
“What are you talking about? If you know something about our company, you need to tell us,” Everette demanded.
“It’s not just your company, Uncle Everette. All of us have a stake in the company that your grandfathers built. That’s the way they wanted it, right? Rowan and Charleston Donovan wanted to create a company that would financially sustain their family from generation to generation. They wanted their family to remain united and financially solvent so they worked their asses off in an industry that two black farm hands weren’t even supposed to be a part of and knew nothing about. They did all of that so that you guys could stand here today and let someone with revenge on their mind destroy it all.”
The words were hot as they spewed from Brandon’s mouth. His gut had been in knots from the moment he’d gotten that call from Ty. Their family business, everything that they were built on was in a precarious position right now. They could lose it all because of Roslyn Ausby.
“Tell us what you know, Brandon,” Albert said quietly. “Just tell us, son.”
Brandon had slipped his hands into his front pockets as he looked at three of the men that had been such pillars of strength and integrity all his life. He’d loved his family, his parents, his siblings, uncles, aunts and cousins. They’d stuck together through everything and now, Brandon feared they would never be the same.
“When you started hearing from the customers that they wanted to terminate their contracts instead of renewing, you all thought the same thing. You thought about Roslyn Ausby, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Al thought about her,” Everette said. “Henry and I, well, we didn’t think she was that smart.”
“She’s a gold digger,” Henry stated through clenched teeth. “She has no idea about business dealings.”
“She knows how to use her body to get what she wants from men, Uncle Henry. Sometimes that’s the smartest business move ever.”
Brandon heard the snap and bite of his words and knew they were probably borderline disrespectful. He just didn’t give a damn.
“She couldn�
�t have gotten to all of them. Not every man is susceptible to that type of infiltration,” Henry told Brandon, even though his tone held a tinge of regret that he was not one of those men.
“I believe that’s true,” Brandon said to his uncle. “That’s why you should have thought past Roslyn Ausby as the culprit. You should have considered the son.”
He wouldn’t say the ‘secret son’ as the cousins had taken to calling Dane, because the man wasn’t a secret any longer.
“He’s doing this?” Albert asked. “I don’t understand.”
“He’s smart and he knows just how to devour a company when it’s vulnerable,” Brandon told them without hesitation. “Trent traced his financials, eight years ago he took over a power company. He’s built that company to one of the largest in the country. I’m sure you’ve heard of Imagine Energy Corp.”
Everette cursed.
“We’ve been trying to get their business for the last two years,” Henry said. “No wonder there was never so much as a return call.”
“I don’t think he was in the mood to make a call back to someone who he feels has ignored him all his life,” Brandon said.
“That’s enough,” Albert told Brandon. “We’re not going to do this anymore. Now if you have more to tell about this situation, then tell us.”
Or he could simply walk out and keep the secret to himself, the way they’d done for all these years. But Brandon knew that wasn’t the answer. He knew that now was not about his anger or disappointment in these men. It was about saving what they could of the legacy.
“He’s going to attempt a hostile takeover,” Brandon told them. “That’s why he’s been wooing your clients over to his supplier, which we haven’t been able to pinpoint just yet. We think it’s an overseas company. Roark’s going to work on finding out which one since he has all of the foreign contacts. With your clients leaving, your shareholders are afraid of losing their checks and bonuses. They’re trying to bail out before the storm hits full frontal. Your stocks drop and Dane scoops them up.”
“He’ll never get the majority,” Henry stated. “None of us are going to sell our shares to him. Together, the Donovans still own fifty-two percent in the company.”
