Chapter 24
Brody
The cards whisper against the felt as James deals. He has that usual smug look on his face. The one which indicates he thinks he’s in control. Typical chef.
After dropping Lark at her home yesterday I was unable to switch off my mind.
I ended up working from my home office. Then decided to work from home today so I could put some distance between us.
I need to think through the idea that came to me while talking with Lark yesterday. Timing is everything. Like in poker.
I keep my face blank, eyes on my hand. I can’t reveal my cards yet.
James tosses a chip into the pot like he’s seasoning a bloody steak. “Call,” he says, then fans his cards out with a grin. “Full house.”
Toren Whittington, a close friend and CEO of the Whittington Group of companies, groans and throws his hand down. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
James’ grin widens. “Still think I was bluffing?”
“Yeah,” Toren mutters. “Right up until you weren’t.”
Adrian Sovrano, another friend, stacks his remaining chips with precision. “You never learn, Toren. He plays you every time.”
I glance at Toren. “He’s right. You read James wrong every damn round.”
“Don’t start, Davenport.” Toren cracks his neck. “Not everyone’s got ice in their veins.”
James nurses his whiskey. “Some of us know how to read a room. Or a table.”
I study him for a moment and let him enjoy his win. Let him think he’s got it.
Adrian’s gaze sharpens, cutting through James’s bravado. “Overconfidence gets men gutted."
Perfect cue. I set my hand down slowly, deliberately. Straight flush. The silence that follows is sweet.
James whistles under his breath. “Bastard.”
“That’s why you don’t talk before the hand’s finished.” I gather the pot toward me. The weight of the chips feels good in my palm.
“Arrogant sod.” Toren’s lips twitch. He seems to be fighting a smile.
Adrian lifts his glass in my direction. No words. Only respect.
James reaches for the bottle with a groan. “Next round’s mine. And if one of you bastards thinks you’re walking away tonight with my money, think again.”
I let a smile curve my mouth. “You don’t make it easy, Hamilton. But I’ll keep trying.”
The air thrums with competition, with brotherhood. The kind I miss from my stint with the Marines. I’m lucky to have found it here.
"Now that I have your attention…" I glance around the table. "What are you guys doing next week, same time?"
James leans back in his seat. "Attending your wedding?"
The others chuckle.
I raise my glass of whiskey in his direction. "You’re right."
"What?" His jaw drops.
The others exchange a look.
Toren, cool customer, merely takes another pull of his whiskey. "You’re getting married?"
"To whom?" Adrian scowls.
"Not to your executive assistant?" James takes in the look on my face, and chuckles. "No way. It is your EA."
"Next, you’ll tell me it’s Gramps who chose her," Toren drawls.
I wince.
“He did choose her?” Adrian stares.
I scowl at my cards. “In a matter of speaking."
"Gramps must be over the moon. The last of his grandkids settling down. His life’s work is finally realized." James watches me with shrewd eyes.
"He seemed to be strangely philosophical when I told him about it. It’s almost as if he was coming to grips with the fact that he doesn’t have any more lives to manipulate." I take another sip of my whiskey. "He may have hinted that he has the three of you in his sights."
"I hope not." Adrian shudders. "I’m happy with my life as is."
"Besides, he doesn’t have any control over our inheritances." Toren shrugs.
"Unlike you tossers, I'm a self-made man. I have no interest in my parents’ inheritance." James drums his fingers on his chair.
"The classic response of the man who has it all." I smirk.
"I didn’t start out that way," he reminds me.
James and his siblings are adopted. The Hamiltons made sure to give them the best education and access to contacts within the upper echelons of London society. But there are shadows in James’ eyes which can’t all be attributed to having seen action.
"You’re really doing this?" Toren cuts off the end of his cigar and lights it.
"It would seem that way."
"And are you happy about it?" Adrian places his whiskey glass on the table. "You seem…preoccupied?"
"Not about the wedding. That’s a done deal. No, it’s about my fiancée." I top up my whiskey glass, then survey the golden liquid. "She’s my choice to take over from me as CEO.”
Toren and Adrian exchange glances.
"Must make things awkward at work," Adrian offers.
"It might have, except she’s so damn good at her job, no one can question her talent. And she’s so hardworking that no one can question her commitment.”
Toren moves his cigar to the other side of his mouth. “Looks like she made an impression on you and the board.”
"More than.” I chuckle. “Lark chaired the last board of directors meeting on my behalf. A few weeks in her role, and she's conversant with the numbers, the past performance, future goals, challenges, upcoming initiatives, all of it. You should have seen her go toe-to-toe with the rest of the board. She’s badass. And resilient. She has a zest for the business that I haven’t had in a while.
She also has a natural empathy. It helps her pay attention to employees’ welfare.
” Something my pride didn’t allow room for.
She, on the other hand, did not worry about it being mistaken for weakness.
James gives me a shrewd look. “So, you're finally doing it?”
I nod. “The first two years, when I took over as CEO, I poured my heart and soul into the job. Turned the business around. Hit the revenue goals. Lined up acquisitions to meet growth goals. Along the way, I hired teammates who’re former military for as many roles as they were qualified for. But I want to do more.”
“You mean, you want to work more closely with veterans?” Adrian blows out a puff of smoke.
I nod. “Lark’s taken over a lot of my day-to-day duties in a very short time.
Once she's CEO, I can take on more of an advisory role. I can focus on finding startups which fit my vision while continuing to be there for her as a guiding hand. The rest of the time, I would work directly with veterans.”
“Very honorable. In fact, you make me feel like a right bastard for not having an outreach goal at my restaurant, you twat,” James scoffs.
Toren rolls his shoulders back. "You’re going to have to sell Arthur on it.”
"I’ve spoken to him. And he’s agreed to back Lark for the CEO position. After all, he's the one who pointed out she’d be the perfect match for me." In more than one way, as it turns out.
As if reading my thoughts. James reaches over and slaps my back. "Sounds like it’s all falling into place. But I do have one question."
I incline my head.
"Are you going to ask me to be your best man?"