by Ashley
“But nothing tonight? I won’t need to be there by then. I have a family emergency. I need to be in Manhattan tonight.”
“Ma’am—”
“Bitch, I’m twenty-one! If you say ‘ma’am’ one more time…” Ashton swept her hair out of her face in frustration as she snatched her plane ticket from the counter. When she turned, she bumped right into the man behind her.
“You’d get more bees with honey, I’d think. The black girl thing with the attitude and the loud shit is a little overdone. You need a new act, baby.” The man didn’t even glance up from his phone. A white boy with blond hair swept over, tattoos covering his neck and hands. The diamond necklace he wore rested on his crisp white button-down shirt. He was neat—not businessman neat, but rock star neat, like he had been tailored specifically for an event but was a little uncomfortable in the fitted slacks and thousand-dollar shoes. It took seconds for her to take all of him in. He was handsome, striking even, with model looks wrapped in the shell of a bad boy.
“And the ‘white boy trying to be down’ thing is lame as fuck. Mind your business with your appropriating ass.” The entourage that flocked the man all took pause, like someone had scratched a record. They waited for him to react but all he did was caress his unkempt beard.
“You want to let me by?” she asked.
He snickered. “Sure thing, angry black woman.” The tension melted as she passed.
“Thanks, privileged white man,” she shot back. Ashton found her way to the bar and set down her bag in the chair beside her, sighing in exasperation. She dug through her things until she retrieved her phone’s charger and then searched for an outlet. She already knew her sisters were going crazy wondering where she was. When her phone finally powered on, she had six missed text messages. She could tell from Sutton’s tone that she was pissed. There was no point in responding. Her sisters were in flight.
“I just need to get there,” she mumbled. She opened her browser and began searching for flights. The sound of laughter filtered into the restaurant and Ashton looked up as the white boy walked inside with his entourage behind him. The gushing the four women were doing was so over the top that Ashton rolled her eyes as she turned her swivel chair back to the bar. She didn’t miss the guy who accompanied the group, however. The mountain of testosterone was the color of tree bark and his presence seemed to shade the room. She felt a chill run down her spine. Some men just exuded power. The white boy looked like money, but the handsome gentleman who swaggered in behind him, scrolling through his phone without acknowledging those around him, looked like the boss. If Ashton’s heart weren’t wrapped up in the past, she would want to fuck him. He was just that type of man. The kind you knew could take your panties off as soon as he entered a room. The ping of her cell phone pulled her attention. Honor had connected to Wi-Fi, and the blue iMessage came through as soon as they reached cruising altitude.
Honor
I don’t know how you let yourself miss this flight, but you better get to NYC. I’m not trying to hear Sutty’s mouth this entire trip. Don’t flake Ash.
Before she could type a response, the bartender walked over with a drink in hand. She set down a napkin before placing the glass on top.
“I didn’t order this,” Ashton said.
“From the cute white guy in the corner,” the woman said. Ashton smirked. She didn’t even turn to acknowledge him. She knew he wanted attention. Just by the number of women around him, she could tell he was used to commanding it.
Probably some kind of trust-fund brat, Ashton thought. There was nothing worse than an entitled man who wasn’t used to working for anything. It took more than an apology drink to spark her interest.
Just as she expected, he came right over, placing one hand on the bar top and the other on the back of her chair, turning it so she faced him.
“Why you look so mean?” he asked.
“Oh my God,” she sighed to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and then rolling eyes in frustration up at him. She chuckled. “Which of your black friends taught you that line, homeboy?”
He laughed. “You’re funny. Stranded, but you are funny. Maybe you can set up in the corner and do a bit since you’ll be here for a while.”
“Ha ha,” she said. “You see I’m having the worst day ever. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
He shrugged. “Fine. I got a jet waiting to take you to New York, but cool, stay here with your mean ass,” he said.
He took one step back toward his seat before Ashton stopped him.
“And what exactly do you expect me to give you for the ride?” she asked.
He rustled his hair and his brow wrinkled as his eyes sparkled in amusement. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll give me a ride one day.”
Ashton laughed. “Now that’s a line, white boy!”
He nodded. “Yeah? You like that one?”
They shared a laugh and he held out his hand. “I’m August,” he introduced himself.
“Ashton.” She shook his hand, wishing she could have given him an alias. There was no boarding a flight without giving the pilot a manifest. She had no choice but to give him her government name if she wanted to make it to New York.
“Ashton? You sure? That attitude is giving me more Keisha vibes,” he stated.
Ashton hollered in laughter. “That’s so racist!”
“No more racist than you calling me white boy,” he shot back. “Enjoy your drink, beautiful. Wheels up in thirty.”
Ashton turned toward the bar. “White boy got money and game,” she whispered to herself, halfway impressed. She peered over her shoulder at the group, taking one more glance as she wondered who fate had placed in her lap.
* * *
Sutton’s car pulled up to the five-star hotel and she looked up at the skyscraper of a hotel, stepping out onto the filthy streets. Luxury heels on pissy pavement was such an oxymoron. She hated the big city. New York’s pretentious aura clouded the air. She had been there many times and there was just something about the place that turned her sour. The Southern belle was used to a certain amount of hospitality. The city was full of culture but lacked the charm she was used to.
She looked back at the two additional cars that were pulling up behind hers. While the sisters always rode apart, this time, it was due to the excessive amount of luggage they carried.
Dripping in designer so subtle it could have easily come from the swap meet, Honor and Luna emerged from their cars. High fashion and diamonds draped their bodies. It was clear that these weren’t groupies breezing into town. They were about their business, ready to mingle with the elite.
“Do we have access to the Draft?” Luna asked as the hotel’s automatic glass doors opened to let them inside.
“No, but we have access to the after-party,” Honor said. “I called in some favors. We’re on the list.”
They bypassed the front desk and approached the concierge. Keys were already waiting to four executive suites on the top floor with city views. Nothing but the best.
“Call Ash and see where the hell she is,” Sutton said as she headed toward the elevator. “I’m going to get some sleep. We’ll meet for dinner and then head out to the party together. Let’s say seven thirty?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Honor said, rolling her eyes. “You’re such an old lady. I want to go shop!”
“You do that. I’m going to my room, ordering room service, and taking a nap. And I ain’t old, a bitch is in her prime,” Sutton shot back, snickering as she kissed her sisters goodbye.
Sutton hadn’t come to New York to spend money. She had come to make it and she wouldn’t be easily distracted. She didn’t want to purchase brand names; she wanted her name to become the brand name. Sutton LaCroix was determined to build their company and become the most respected consulting firm in the country. She was well on her way, but she was still a small firm, and they were still stretching their wings into new sectors. She didn’t just want to be known for fixing scandals and hand
ling PR nightmares, she wanted to touch tech and natural resources, specifically oil, and August Sinclair and his family’s fortune was her way in.
* * *
“I have never met a girl who hops a free ride and then acts like I’m invading her space.” August chuckled as he lifted a bottle of champagne to his lips and waltzed to the seat across from Ashton’s.
She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t said one word,” Ashton replied.
“That’s my point. You aren’t even pretending to be polite,” August snickered.
“What do you want me to do? Be like your little friends up there?” Ashton asked. “They’re so easy to impress. I’ve been on a private jet before. I appreciate the ride, thanks,” she said.
August’s bent brow of curiosity irritated Ashton. “What are you looking at? That’s about all I got for you,” she said.
He shook his head, smiling. “I like to go after the tough nuts,” he said. “The harder they are to crack the better they taste,” he said before standing and making his way back to the front of the plane.
I swear I should rob him, she thought. August was lucky he was already marked by her sisters, because if it were up to her, she would humble his ass. Leave him leaking somewhere and run his entire trust fund because she knew his money was given, not hard earned. He spent it too frivolously. He was young, rich, and entitled. His arrogance was both a turn-on and turnoff. She could understand how he had pulled the beautiful women at his side.
She stood and headed toward the restroom, but the sight of a room at the back of the plane pulled her farther. She peeked through the slit of the semi-open door and a beauty of a man stood inside. He removed his shirt, revealing an athlete’s body beneath. She wondered how it was possible for a man to hang a suit so well. The build beneath was flawless.
He lifted his eyes toward the door and Ashton’s breath hitched as he pulled it open.
“Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom,” she said.
“This one’s private. August’s company utilizes the one up front,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” she replied.
“I think you meant to do exactly that,” he said, then shut the door in her face, stunning Ashton. She scoffed in disbelief. She had never met a man who wasn’t putty in her hands. She was beautiful and young. She hadn’t detected a hint of lust in this man’s eyes, however, and that was odd. It was the first time in her entire life she hadn’t felt like her looks gave her an advantage. She wondered why he was secluded in the back of the jet while August practically had an orgy going on with beautiful women up front. The level of discipline intrigued her. Most men would indulge when tempted with pussy. This man blocked it out.
“You’re the one we need to figure out,” she whispered to herself. She hurried back to her seat and grabbed a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket near her. She poured herself a drink and sat back as the wheels in her mind turned in overdrive. She knew when she was looking at the boss and August wasn’t it. She couldn’t wait to get to New York so she could fill in her sisters on this new mystery man she had discovered. There was more to him than met the eye and Ashton had a feeling they had their sights on the wrong target. It was time to develop a plan B.
CHAPTER 6
“You’re out,” Sutton said. She didn’t even give Ashton the courtesy of looking at her as she sat, posture perfect, dainty hands gripping the fork and steak knife that were annihilating the cut of Wagyu beef on her plate.
“You’re so unreasonable, Sutty! So I missed my flight. You act like that’s the end of the world. You and I need to get something straight. I’m the youngest, but I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you holding my hand or playing it safe with me. I handle my business just like the three of you, so take off the training wheels,” Ashton said.
“Handling your business means being prompt. You’re burnt, Ash. You hopped on the nigga’s private jet. You can’t join the mile-high club and pop champagne, then approach him on some legit business. He will never take you serious.”
“Mile high? That’s what you think?” Ashton asked.
“I mean, you did pop pussy for the geek a few days ago, Ash, it ain’t far-fetched,” Honor said.
Luna snickered as Ashton rolled her eyes. “Was the dick good at least?”
“Trash, just like these rules y’all putting on me,” Ash answered, perturbed.
“You’ll just sit this one out,” Honor said. “Let us approach it the right way before he sees your face again. Even if you didn’t fuck him, you think he’s going to let you manage his company and you couldn’t even manage your own travel arrangements without fucking up?”
“Fine,” Ashton said, finally picking up her silverware to eat. She snapped the linen napkin open and placed it in her lap. She was livid. They were treating her like an amateur. They had no idea how much work she had put in on the streets of Miami, but she knew in their eyes she would always be little Ash. To her, she was the fuckup, the hothead, the one who had brought the family tumbling down. They held some resentments about the incarceration of their father and because she knew it was her fault, she let them have this one.
“I’ll keep my distance from this one until it’s set in stone, but FYI, we’re focused on the wrong man. August Sinclair might be the prince of Daddy’s company, but the nigga I saw on the jet with him today, he’s the next king. I could feel it just by being around him.”
“I’m not worried about the right-hand man. I want the son of the white billionaire, the oil tycoon from Texas,” Sutton said. “August is the eldest son; he’s the one with the power. He is a legacy. Nobody else matters but him. So, whoever you saw on the jet is not our target. Forget about him and focus.”
“You didn’t see their dynamic, Sutty. August may be filthy rich, but he ain’t the one calling the shots.”
Sutton was slow to respond, and Ashton shook her head. She hated when Sutton acted like no one else was in the room. Sutton only moved when she was ready, only spoke after carefully considering what she wanted to say. She was calculating.
“Tell me about him,” Sutton said, finally biting. If she knew nothing else, she knew Ashton knew how to spot the boss.
“Whoever he is, he’s official. Not being arrogant or anything, but he didn’t even look in my direction,” Ashton said.
“That’s not arrogant at all, baby sis,” Luna said sarcastically, laughing.
“Hey, that’s hard for a man to do! Hell, it’s hard for some women to do,” Honor added.
“I’m serious, y’all. It was hella women on their jet and I mean they were there for his entertainment and he had nothing for them. He stayed to himself, barely spoke. Was rude, in fact. For four hours, he was invisible to the bullshit. He opted out. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with that much self-control,” Ashton said.
“You were raised by a man with that type of self-control,” Luna said. “What’s his name? I can look up his net worth.”
“I don’t know,” Ashton admitted.
“Where are they staying? If we have that information, we can skip the party altogether. A little coincidental meet-cute will go over better than a conversation in a crowded club.”
“I don’t know,” Ashton said again.
“You were on a jet for hours with this man and you didn’t get any information we could use?” Honor asked. “You’re slipping, Ash.”
“He didn’t socialize at all. I’m telling you. This nigga’s different. When I know, I know, and this is the lick of a lifetime. He’s loaded. The jet we flew in on wasn’t some rented aircraft with some random pilot. It was his. Not August’s. A brother in a ten-thousand-dollar suit and brown skin owned it. The pilot knew him; the flight attendant was familiar with him.”
“We’ll worry about the mystery man later. Let’s talk about August Sinclair,” Sutton said, growing impatient.
“He’s worth…” Luna began to roll down the statistics on the Sinclair family, but Sutton was already in the know.
“Billions. I’m aware,” Sutton interrupted. “August Sinclair is worth two point four billion dollars and that’s not counting the valuation of the company. I don’t do anything blindly. I’ve done my homework. Get dressed. We’ve got a Draft party to go to.”
“Me too?” Ashton asked.
“How else am I supposed to know who the king is?” Sutton asked, winking at her sister and showing a bit of leniency because they all knew Sutton had a radar for made men. Even without Ashton’s help, she would have sniffed her target out of the crowd.
“About time you took the stick out your ass,” Honor said. “Now, can I have a dope-ass girls’ night with my sisters?”
Sutton nodded, smirking a bit. She never smiled. She was such a tough girl, but they all knew that she was happy about the reunion. Tough love was the only kind of love she knew how to give, but it felt miraculous all the same. They finished their dinner and stopped into their suites to freshen up before heading out on the town.
The LaCroix sisters stepped out the Mandarin Oriental looking like money. They were so glamorous that people spoke in hushed tones, speculating about their identities as they made their way to the awaiting cars outside.
“Relax, Sutty,” Honor said as she reached for the bucket that housed the champagne.
“I’m relaxed,” Sutton said.
“No, you’re not, you’re thinking of every single way this can go wrong. Tonight should be fun. We’re headed to a party full of millionaires and we’re going to be the prettiest bitches in the room. Ain’t no way we’re walking out without a bag,” Honor said as she slipped into her waiting car.
Again with the separate cars because even though they anticipated a night full of fun, they took precautions, nonetheless. Multiple exit strategies.
They pulled up to Soho House and this time, they didn’t mind the camera flashes as paparazzi called out to them. A little red-carpet slay for Page Six was necessary. It created good publicity for their firm, using their good looks as the carrot they dangled in front of potential clients. Men were the easy ones. Just the potential to fuck one of the LaCroix sisters brought them through the door. The sisters were exquisite. It wasn’t until they opened their mouths that people realized they were the real deal. Intelligent and savvy, they were brilliant negotiators and exceptional at all things business.
