9. Alex
Alex
People can’t help but stare at me as I walk past their cubicles on the way to my father’s office.
It would be wise to smile and put them at ease, but I am a man on a mission.
I need to figure out how I’m going to approach this board meeting that I have in two hours.
It is my job to convince them that I am good enough to be the CEO.
First, I need to convince myself of this.
I shut the door and slide into the leather chair behind the oak desk. Looking out of the windows that line two sides of the room, I try to gather my thoughts.
All I can think about is last night. Chanice coming undone on top of me with only the help of my mouth.
Her eagerness to do so much more. If one thing is obvious from yesterday, it’s that we have chemistry.
Passion, unfurled in our kiss, that laid the groundwork for the rest of the evening.
I can’t help but look forward to the next time we meet, where we can go even further.
Where I can show her even more. This isn’t what I had planned, but I am open to seeing where this will go.
A knock sounds at my door, and a brown-haired woman pops her head in.
“Mr. Whitmore?” she asks, looking to me for permission to enter.
I wave her in and sit up a little straighter, placing my hands on the desk.
“I am Anna Welch. I was your father’s assistant. Yours now, I guess.” She shrugs.
Whether she stays my assistant or not is yet to be determined. If I am going to do this, I need people I can trust. The way she averts her eyes, she seems easily intimidated. Not good for keeping secrets.
“Hello, Ms. Welch, how can I help you?”
“The board has arrived early and is demanding the meeting start now.”
I lift one eyebrow. This is a clear tactic meant to throw me off. She looks scared of how I will respond, likely used to my father’s fits of angry outbursts. I smile at her and stand.
“Lead the way.”
She takes me onto the floor and veers left towards the conference rooms. Pointing to the biggest one, she looks shakily at me once more before taking off back to her desk. With one big breath in and out, I step forward and open the door.
Seated around the table are men I have grown up with.
They frequented our house for parties and events, even attending the over-the-top soirees that were my birthdays.
I have known them as friends and family.
Today, they are my foe. Gifting them with my best head nod, I slide into the only open seat at the head of the table.
“About time,” says Lorenzo Renaldo. The man my father cursed about more often than not after every meeting they had.
His disagreeable demeanor apparently didn’t stop with the generation before mine, as he extends a scowl to me now. I want to laugh at his lack of patience, but instead offer what I hope is a sincere frown.
“My apologies, I was just informed that the meeting was moved up. Let’s not waste any more time.” Cutting down the ability for them to complain further, I open up the conversation to what brought them here.
“So, the prodigal son has returned,” Lorenzo says, taking up the role of speaker for all of them.
Seated across from me, he is in the other seat at the head. My instincts call for me to mockingly bow and demand they all refer to me as king, but instead, I just smile in good humor.
“So what are you expecting to happen here?” he asks.
“Only what has always been the expectation. I will take up the role of CEO, and my seat on the board as majority shareholder.” I throw that last bit of information out there as a reminder. No matter how they feel about me, I will be present.
“What makes you think you get to be the CEO?” He looks around the room as everyone nods with him in clear agreement.
“Why wouldn’t I be, is the better question.” Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms.
“Well, for one, you didn’t come to work at the company after you graduated, as is the expectation. You have no idea how things run. The only reason you are here now is because your father passed. May he rest in peace.” Lorenzo touches his chest, where I know his cross sits hanging on a gold chain.
I stop my eyes from rolling, knowing that he cares as much about my dad’s death as I do. Instead, I show my teeth in a way that is more threat than anything else as I sit forward in my chair.
“I grew up in this company. I know it very well. As well, my MBA more than qualifies me to take up the role. Let’s discuss the actual issue here.
You all assumed, for one reason or another, I wouldn’t be returning.
So you got it in your heads that things will change.
However, whether you like it or not, this company was started by a Whitmore and will continue to be run by one.
” He goes to interrupt me, but I hold up a hand.
“I have already secured a new shipping deal with America Knight, which will likely double our profit margins. I have plans for expansion on all fronts, and I know what my father had in mind for the next ten years. I am not replaceable.” I look each one of them in the eye, making my intentions very clear.
Some lower their gaze, not ready to face me as they turn to Lorenzo for his lead.
“We have discussed things and, at best, we are comfortable with you being Interim CEO on a trial basis. In six months, we will reconvene and decide whether you keep that role.” He looks less than satisfied that it has come to this, but he offers up their last play.
Having the most shares, I can override their decision and make the choice, but I know that won’t win them over to my side. In the end, whether we like it or not, we all have to be on the same page.
“Fair enough,” I say, relenting. No one won this battle, but it was the first in what looks to be a long war for control.
With nothing left to be discussed, I dismiss them to go back to whatever hole they crawled out of. Instead of returning to my desk, I sit in the silence of the room.
The reality is that I need to prove to myself, just as much as to them, that I can do this. I need to know if I can imagine a life where I spend the next thirty years working here, while I prime a child to take over for me. Continuing the cycle of duty that was placed on my shoulders from birth.
Can I do this?
Day One, and already I can feel the unhappiness swimming through my mind, soaking my thoughts in melancholy. With a sigh, I get up, ready to learn the names of everyone working for me.
By the time I am done introducing myself, most of the day has passed by.
I finish up the rest, going over the reports from the last five years, trying to familiarize myself with any possible problems. When the only light that is left is the one on my desk, freedom calls to me in the form of dinner with Carter.
“You’re late,” he says when I take my seat. Having already ordered a slice of cake, he is enjoying it alongside a glass of brandy.
“You could have waited for me, still.”
I try to grab a forkful of the icing. He knocks it away with his own, giving me a look that makes me think he will stab me with it. When he sees that I have been warned off, he takes another bite.
“I had a busy day. I needed to figure out a plan to keep my position,” I say.
He nods at this, taking a few more bites in the accompanying silence. When he finishes, he puts the plate to the side and places his folded hands on the table.
“How are you feeling about it all?” Like the good friend he is, he knows my disdain for the job that I am to perform. This question is to gauge whether or not I intend to follow through.
“It will be difficult, but I think thanks to other things I have going on, I will be able to do this.”
The waiter comes over and takes our orders, leaving a drink that Carter had pre-ordered for me.
“What other things?”
“Painting, becoming an uncle, having a woman.” Realizing I haven’t texted her today, I send her a message while he watches me.
“Please tell me it’s not the server from the event.” His lips pucker in a pout as he crosses his arms. Wrinkles form on his forehead, marring his otherwise clear, light brown skin.
“Fine, I won’t.” I put my phone away. He rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy breath. With a pointed look back at me, he takes a deep swig of his drink.
“Tell me about her.”
“Well, I don’t know much about her, yet—other than the fact that she is gorgeous, and surprising.
I never know what she is going to do or say.
Her blunt honesty is unmatched, to the point that even her emotions are easy to ascertain.
She is different.” I can’t keep the smile off my face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, as he mirrors it with a more sardonic grin.
“Really? She is so different that you can’t see past it enough to know this is a bad idea?”
“Are you really so classist that you think we couldn’t possibly make it work?”
“I wouldn’t say I am classist. I think I am more of a realist, and I know how hard it is to fit in with this community when you are from it, let alone when you come from the complete opposite.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, pushing the wavier strands back to the shaved-down part.
I sit back in my chair, getting more comfortable for this conversation. I shouldn’t underestimate his experience. Being a token Black person in our world has resulted in him having to fight to fit in. Despite who his father is. However, I can’t give in just yet.
“I am not going to let that deter me from going for it. We could be something great, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”
“What does that mean?”
The waiter drops off food in front of us, and then opens the bottle of wine we got to go with it. Waiting for us to try it and confirm it, our conversation halts until he walks away.
“It means, ironically, she only wants to have sex with me.”
His laughter fills the air as he tilts his head back to let it loose. When he is done, he shakes his head in disbelief.
“That’s what you get.”
“Rude.”
“How many times have you done the same thing to some woman who wanted you to love them?” He takes a bite out of his food, letting me mull over the words as he chews.
“How many times have you?” I finish my drink.
“I think you should take this as a sign. The universe or God is telling you not to date her.” He points his steak knife at me to drive the point home.
I sword fight it with my own knife, causing him to laugh again.
“I will leave her alone if, at the end of our time together, she doesn’t want anything more. All I am doing right now is giving her what she wants, some great orgasms.”
He tilts his head at this and takes another bite before meeting my eyes. “I don’t want you to end up like Olivia,” he says, finally frowning.
“Olivia had no choice in the matter. She had to do what she did.”
“I know that, but you do have a choice, mate. You could very easily just be with someone we grew up with.”
“That wouldn’t be easy.” I look down at the table. “Believe it or not, what you perceive to be the hard path is actually the right one for me.”
He puts his utensils down, and I look back to see him staring off in concentration. When he does heavily blink, clearing away his thoughts, he looks more resigned.
“Well, you already got your trust fund, so there is not much else they can do to you.” He finds the bright side to what he sees as a stormy sky. “However, your concern should be what they will do to her.” He offers one last thing to think on before he changes the subject to other topics.
What he says stays with me all the way until I get home.
Whether I like it or not, I do have to second-guess my decision in going after her.
If I can get her to date me, she will have to integrate into a world I desperately want to escape.
Is that fair? That’s not a question I can answer for her.
But before I can even ask it, I need her to be open to the idea of me.
After a shower, I lay down on my bed and think of ways to do just that.
As my eyes close to give in to sleep, I know I have found a start.