7 – AMBROSE
“Thank you for meeting with us today, Mr. Charles,” Andre Baxter says, looking at me over his wireless glasses. “I understand that there’s been a change in the guard, and you have a lot going on in your transition. It means a lot to us that you’d honor the meeting in light of Mr. Cape’s passing. Please accept our condolences.”
I nod and glance at the company’s attorney, Rick Ward, sitting to my right and then back to the attorney sitting across from us. “We understand you wanted to contract Top Tier to handle the construction of a new resort here in Ocean Falls. Am I correct in my understanding, Mr. Baxter?”
My cousins, Marco, and Alessandro DeLuca, sit across the table from me with their attorney, Andre Baxter, and Greyson and Mitch Black sit to my left with their attorney, Dave Wolf. Beside Rick is my brother, Austin.
“That is correct. The DeLucas and the Blacks have been in business discussions for the last year about a project they want to undertake. They’ve met with various contractors but settled on the fact they all want to do business with Top Tier.
“What these gentlemen are proposing is to bring a resort hotel here to Ocean Falls similar to the resorts that the Blacks own in other cities around the world. However, this would be an adult-only resort that includes a casino and a gentlemen’s club.”
“What type of offerings will this resort provide?” Rick asks.
“It will be an all-inclusive, adults-only casino resort,” Mitch says. “The adults-only isn’t singularly focused on the casino, but also the fact that we’ll host special events designed for singles to meet potential partners. The other side of the resort specializes in romantic couples’ getaways. Of course, we’ll have the casino, on-site restaurants, bars, spas, saunas, scuba diving, snorkeling, shopping, golfing, and other amenities.”
“Based on the specifications you provided in the original conference call, we have had our lead architect, Austin, draw up a few designs,” Rick says.
“Yes, he’s sent those to us via email. We’ve narrowed those down to one design,” Alessandro replies.
“I have met with the local council, and I’ve been assured that we shouldn’t have any problems procuring the permits that we need to begin design,” Marco says with a wicked gleam in his eye.
I’m sure that meeting included bribes and maybe a few threats if necessary.
“That and we’ve purchased the land,” Dave Wolf says, leaning forward on his elbows as he clasps his hands. Looking around the table, he asks, “Gentlemen, is there anything stopping us from moving forward on this agreement besides negotiating costs?”
Rick looks from me to Austin and then back to me again. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you know it has always been Top Tier’s policy to conduct business negotiations with reputable businesses. Businesses like the Black Hospitality Group are among the companies we prefer to conduct business with. I um...”
Rick clears his throat, and I bite back a smile as I look at my cousins across the table. Their dark eyes hold no warning of the hell they could create for our attorney’s life. I feel the tension emanating from Rick as he chooses his words carefully.
“I believe the board will challenge the legitimacy of conducting business with an unknown group, which might create funding issues, produce time constraints, and pose potential risks—”
“The only risk that I see is not doing business with us. I don’t play fucking games. When I see an opportunity for growth and—”
“Marco,” Mr. Baxter warns, touching Marco’s shoulder. He takes over the conversation while my cousin controls his temper. “We could easily bring in another construction company to handle a project of this magnitude, Mr. Ward. A company that would be eager to grow in this area, stake its claim, and build its reputation on a project like this one. It would be easy for them to redirect your clients and business to themselves by offering predatory pricing. I don’t think your company would look too kindly on missing out on an opportunity like this one when the variables are all laid out for you.”
“I can assure you that our company would not look kindly on doing business with the mafia,” Rick boldly bites off, slinking a gaze towards my cousins.
“Ahht, ahht. I’d be careful with the names if I were you,” Alessandro says, smirking at our lawyer.
“Especially considering said company has placed the cousins of supposed mafia members as their lead architect and in their head seat as the CEO,” Marco says, steepling his fingers together and closely looking at his fingers as if willing them to remain poised and in control.
Rick’s eyes shoot my way before slowly shifting to Austin before swinging back to me again. It’s as if he’s praying that we will deny something his brain knows is true.
“I don’t believe we’re doing business with the mafia, Mr. Ward. We’re doing business with the DeLuca Group. A reputable company generating over five hundred million in revenue annually, the largest foreign-owned entertainment contributor in America, employing over six hundred employees. These gentlemen operate in the business world with integrity and vision, and if I could have ten business relationships like the one that I enjoy with the DeLucas, I would die a happy man, Mr. Ward,” Greyson says.
“It is the expectation of this company and the board of directors that I advise the CEO and the board of anything that might put the company at risk.”
“Rick.”
He looks at me.
With a single nod, I say, “Let me handle the board.”
Rick’s eyes widen, and he throws his hands up in exasperation. “Not sure why I’m hired and paid an annual salary of four hundred grand if my advice and legal expertise aren’t honored,” he mutters.
“It’s because you play in peanuts like that and think the way that you do that you don’t generate more income,” Marco sneers.
“Walk me through the logistics of this business partnership and your expectations from the company, and I will give you the projected costs for the job,” I say.
Although I’m listening with one ear to everything they’re proposing, I know that Austin and Rick, despite his mini tantrum, are listening wholeheartedly and taking notes. Despite the name of my mother’s family, I know this is a great business opportunity for the company. I also know that my cousins are reputable businessmen regarding their legitimate businesses.
I would never place this company in a risky situation that might compromise everything it has been built upon. I also know that my cousins wouldn’t ask that of me. The only thing that has me concerned right now is Brynlee.
If she recognizes the DeLuca name, she will make me eat shit for breakfast. If Rick easily recognized it, I don’t see how she might miss it. She only met my mother a couple of times and knew her then as Mrs. Charles or Mrs. Rita. She had no reason to know of my mother’s maiden name or ties to a mafia family.
Was she aware that my mother was Italian? Of course. Just as she knows that my father is French and Cuban, we didn’t do an ancestry.com chart or anything. Yet, I know when she finds out about this, the shit will hit the fan. And she will find out. Rick will make sure to get the word out to the executive staff and the board, and I expect nothing less from him. I only pray that I have time to explain to her first.
As if I’ve thought her up, the door opens and in walks Brynlee. She stops in her tracks and says, “Excuse me. I didn’t realize there was a meeting.”
She turns to leave, and damn, that ass!
Fuck me hard! I haven’t seen her all day. My dick jerks hard at the two-toned grey and white ribbed knit dress that clings to every fucking curve in sight. The dress can easily be off-the-shoulder, but she has it pulled up to the edge of her shoulders to maintain an edgy, professional look.
Her grey heels boost her height and sensually outline her calves making her ass high like a donkey’s. An ass that I want to ride.
Clearing his throat, Rick says, “Ms. St. Clair, this is a meeting I’m sure your input would be invaluable in.”
“Oh?” she asks, looking from Rick to me.
“Yes. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Charles?”
That bastard.
All eyes turn to me, and I clear my throat, nod, and say, “Of course.”
She walks slowly back into the room, and I swivel my gaze to Rick. “Why don’t you give her your seat?” I growl.
He stands, looks nervously away, and extends his hand to his chair, which Brynlee promptly takes. Her scent, warmth, and proximity make me lose concentration, and I have no idea why we’re in this fucking meeting anymore.
Rick takes the opportunity to apprise her of what’s happening, but every time he veers off course, Greyson, Andre Baxter, Dave Wolf, and Austin steer him back on course. They stick to the facts and reserve their biased opinions, unlike asshole-Rick.
I’m thankful they’re there because I don’t have it in me to stay focused enough to clarify anything or check Rick’s disloyal ass.
All I can do is sit foolishly beside her and inhale her scent while I try to play it calm and cool with one ankle crossed over my knee and my finger resting under my nose and over my top lip. I’m anything but calm and cool on the inside, though.
Why the hell does this woman get to me the way she does? She’s not even thinking about me the way that I’m thinking of her. After all, didn’t she say to leave the past in the past? How can I do that when I’m with her every day unless I’m out of town?
Truthfully, that’s the only reason I haven’t delegated more responsibilities to others because I’m always trying to escape her presence. That attitude is what has me in my current state. Dreaming about this damn succubus day and night has me restless, grumpy, and horny.
“Ambrose?” Alessandro says, smirking at me.
“Yes?”
“The numbers. We’re waiting.”
I glance at Austin, who dims the lights, turns on the overhead screen, and launches into his spiel about costs, opportunities, and materials. When he finishes, he provides the numbers and a breakdown of every area. After the presentation, he closes the screen and turns the lights back up.
“Any questions?”
“I think the numbers are fair,” Mitch says.
“More than fair,” Marco mutters.
“May we have a moment to speak with our clients?” Dave speaks up.
I nod and stand, and Austin, Brynlee, and Rick follow me out of the conference room.
“May I have a word with you alone, please?” Brynlee asks, nodding her head at a small conference room.
Wordlessly, I follow her inside, closing the door behind us.
“What the hell was that?”
“What?”
“You have a meeting to start a thirty-two-million-dollar project without consulting me or any of the executive team? If I hadn’t accidentally walked into the room, when would I have found out, Ambrose? Huh?”
“Bryn, it’s not as simple as you make it.”
“Oh? According to Rick, we’re doing business with the mob, you’re probably getting some incentive, and the business will get screwed. Do you mind telling me what’s going on here?”
“What’s going on is that we can do a few things here. One, we can build the Ocean Falls area up to the premier tourism destination not only in the state of Georgia but on the East Coast. Second, a collaboration with the Black Hospitality Group and the DeLuca Group, despite who you believe them to be, would allow this company to finally become an international construction company, which is something we’ve been struggling to do for the last three years. And third, do you know what would happen if we pull this off?”
“No. Please enlighten me,” she hisses, crossing her arms over her breasts and stepping close to me.
“It would increase the bottom line by more than the twenty percent the board is seeking to gain and save those jobs you’ve been going to war for over the last month!”
Her arms drop, and her eyes widen slightly.
“I...I didn’t know.”
“I fucking know that. You’ll have to learn to trust me if we’re partners in this organization.”
“You can’t expect that just because you’re my boss. I won’t question things when they don’t look like they’re on the up and up.”
“What makes you think that they’re not?”
“The DeLucas? Come on, everyone knows they’re part of the mafia. Hell, they’re mafia royalty.”
A smirk dances across my lips before being replaced with a scowl. “Thank you.”
“Excuse me?”
“For recognizing who the fuck we are and not underestimating our power. Our reach.”
“We?”
“Those men in there are my cousins. Their mother, Angela, is my mother’s sister. We are royalty, so we have no need to beg anyone for shit. Whatever we put our hands to, you can guarantee it will turn to gold. I would never compromise the integrity of this company, my staff, or myself by involving this company in mafia dealings. I know who we are and what the fuck we are, but I also know how to keep the two separate, as does Marco and Alessandro,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“Can you?”
I snarl, but no words come out.
I hate that her eyes are wide, and I can’t determine if it’s fear, frustration, or surprise. Right now, I don’t give a fuck because she knows me. It may have been over a decade since we had dealings, but she knows the man that I am. Despite our past, she knows I’ve always been a man of integrity.
“I never knew. Why didn’t I know?”
“Because it wasn’t something that I proudly displayed. I’m used to people judging us, and I’m used to reactions like yours. I didn’t try to hide it, but there was no reason to talk about it unless we approached that fork in the road. We never did.”
“We talked about marriage, Ambrose. Would you have told me?”
“I would’ve told you every goddamned thing you wanted and needed to hear if given a chance.”
She holds her hand up. “Let’s not go there.”
A knock sounds at the door, and I jerk it open.
“They’re ready for us now,” Austin says, glancing between Brynlee and me.
I turn back to her, ready to tell him we’ll be there in a second, but Brynlee pushes past me and heads back to the main conference room.