Steering the car through the last bits of traffic, I turned the Range Rover down Mark’s long driveway, relieved we had finally made it without stopping again.
“Help me down, please, Mason,” Kinsey asked, trying to maneuver her bulk around unsuccessfully.
“Here you go.” I lifted her out of the passenger seat and gently set her on her feet. At almost nine months pregnant, I wasn’t sure coming to the twins’ fifth birthday party was a good idea, but Kinsey insisted we couldn’t miss it.
“You guys made it!” Mark came out of the house, leading us into the big backyard. For the party, they’d set up tents, tables, a bounce house. They’d brought in a pony which one of the twins was riding while the other was cried because she had to wait her turn.
Kinsey
“Surprise!” Smiling from ear to ear, everyone held up balloons and noisemakers, and someone raised a baby shower banner. Looking around at all the family there, my hands flew to my face, and the hormone tears started flowing.
The party could have been a reunion. Mason had invited everyone I ever cared about. “Oh my God! Dad! You’re here! And Mason, your whole family! And Mary!” He’d even made sure my old friends from boarding school were there. “Maggie! Harper!”
When I was done kissing and hugging all my guests, Mark’s wife led me to the seat of honor under the biggest tent.
“You guys are throwing me a shower? I thought this was a birthday party for the twins!” I looked around, still shocked that this was all for me.
“You’re part of the family, Kinsey. Of course this is for you.” Mason joined me. He stood at my side, rubbing my back, bringing me a glass of water when I needed it, and handing me things to open. “It’s not just you, anymore,” he whispered in my ear. “We are all here for you.”
“You and Noah are part of the Alexander clan now,” Mark said. “We take care of our own.”
“Dad?” I called to my father. “I can’t believe you are here!”
Walking over and giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek, he nodded. “Of course I came. We spent far too long apart for me to miss this now.” Pulling up a chair, he settled in next to Mason. “Besides, I have a shower gift too.”
“You?” I said, incredulous. “You brought a shower gift?”
Digging into the inner pocket of his suit coat (no matter how mellow he got, Noah Hendrix, III, did not go anywhere without a fresh suit and tie on), he pulled out some papers.
“I am so proud of you, Kinsey. I know I’ve never told you, but you have done wonderfully with your life. I let you down after your mother died. I was so worried I would screw something up, I just didn’t do anything. I didn’t know the first thing about raising a teenage girl. I figured the best thing I could do was send you to boarding school and find you a husband to take care of you. I was wrong, and you suffered for it. I want to make it up to you.”
Listening to his heartfelt words, I cried again. Stupid hormones! I could barely see through the tears to read the papers he handed me.
“What is this????”
“Hendrix BioTech. It’s yours. I never should have said it was going anywhere else. I can’t think of a better person to run it.”
“Congratulations, Kinsey!” Mason said, eyes dancing. The bastard knew!
“You knew????” I cried, smacking his arm playfully. I wiped my cheeks as the tears kept falling.
“Of course,” he said. “No one loves you more than your father and I. It’s our job to take care of you and that baby.” He put a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Besides, Noah wanted to make sure I was on board. We don’t want you doing too much with a new baby. He wanted to make sure I would be there for you.”
Sobbing, I put my hands over my face. I had never been so happy in my life.
I finally had everything I had ever dreamed of.
THE END
Also by Allison LaFleur
**Sneak Peak**
Damon
The Lost Billionaires, Book 2
Chapter 1
Harper
CRASH!
A tray full of dirty dishes fell and shattered into a million tiny porcelain shards that flew all over the kitchen floor.
“What is going on?!” Nigel stood in the doorway, towering over the new busboy he’d just run into. “What have you done?! You imbecile! I will not tolerate such incompetence here!”
With his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast, the poor eighteen-year-old kid was quaking in his shoes. I rushed to Nigel, hoping to stop yet another disaster in the making.
“Nigel, calm down. He didn’t mean to. You opened the door on him.” I grasped his sleeve and tried to distract him from the dressing-down he was giving Adam. Shit, that was a mistake. I knew better than to suggest Nigel ever did anything wrong.
He whirled around and verbally laid into me. “You! You stay out of it! You are nothing but a sous chef! I am the head chef here. You do not contradict me. This is my kitchen!” Spittle flew from his angry lips, and his finger jabbed through the air. “Get back to work! We don’t have time for your ridiculous excuses and delays.”
Throwing a regretful glance in Adam’s direction, I scuttled back to my station and began slicing vegetables again. Nigel was not in any mood to be reasonable. For the millionth time, I was glad we were no longer together. What did I ever see in him?
Looking sideways at Nigel, I admired his aristocratic profile, aquiline nose, and the way he filled out his chef’s coat. His distinguished appearance was what had attracted me to him in the first place. Unfortunately, the beautiful exterior hid a psychopathic narcissist who turned into a tyrant the moment he was given even a tiny bit of power. ‘
“Faster, Harper.” He stood at my shoulder, his critical eye focused on my flying knife as I worked. “I cannot create my masterpieces without proper ingredients. My customers are hungry, and you are slowing things down.”
Faster Harper, faster, yada, yada, yada. “MY masterpieces,” my foot. These are all my recipes. Bastard is still taking credit for my creations. He doesn’t even prepare them—I do!
I fumed as I prepped the vegetables, my knife slicing through the air as I minced, diced, and muttered under my breath. Nigel strutted around the kitchen barking orders at everyone before taking the dishes I prepared and delivering them with his pristine white coat and a flourish to the high-profile patrons out in the dining room. What an ass. I couldn’t believe I had ever dated him.
All I need's a little more time, and I’ll have enough saved up to open my own restaurant. I can survive hell for a little longer, can’t I?
Damon
“Calm down, everybody,” I shouted to be heard over the din in the boardroom. Nothing happened. Not one person heard me as I stood there with my hands on my hips at the head of the table, trying to start the meeting. This is completely unacceptable.
“ENOUGH!” I finally thundered. My voice rolled around the room, reaching every corner and capturing the attention of every person in the room. Launching myself up onto the conference table, I stood straight, my full 6-foot-five-inches looming over the panicked group. They were going to pay attention to me whether they liked it or not.
More than thirty pairs of eyes turned to look at me, wide and staring as I hovered over them. I don’t think they had ever seen a CEO take charge like that. Suddenly all attention was focused on me, previous conversation and bickering forgotten. I could see various reflections of, Oh shit it’s the boss on each of their faces.
“I am Damon North. The CEO of North Enterprises. This is my company, my boardroom, and you are all now my employees. We will not have a repeat of this little show again. Not ever.” I turned a stern glare from one set of frightened eyes to the next, and the next after that. “I expect each and every one of you to conduct yourself with more professional decorum. You are now the face of North Enterprises, and I expect you to act accordingly. This is not kindergarten, and you are not on a playground. You will act like adults. Understood?”
I didn
’t want to be the heavy, but I also didn’t want to spend future meetings standing on tables. We were going to start this new relationship off on the right foot if it killed me.
“I understand you all have a lot of questions, and I will do my best to answer them, but I have a few things to say first. Please be seated.” I hopped down from the table and stood at the front of the room, watching as everyone calmed down. This time, they acted like the accomplished individuals I knew them to be, settling into the seats around the room and taking out their pens and notebooks. Within moments, they were all silent and focused back on me again.
“I want to welcome you all to North Enterprises. As part of our latest acquisition, you are the newest members of the North Enterprises family. Melissa?” My right hand and executive assistant Melissa Fielding, who was really so much more than her title implied, began passing out folders. “Inside the folders you are receiving are several documents. You hold the mission statement of North Enterprises; it’s why I started the company and how I intend it to continue it. You also have a detailed financial report going back to the very beginning. You will see where I started five years ago and where we currently sit. Please note the robust growth we have and are currently still experiencing. Renewable energy is a hot field and North Enterprises is enjoying unprecedented growth. Please read these documents thoroughly at your earliest opportunity. I expect you to know, understand, and represent the company as it appears in that folder.” I pulled out my chair and sat, looking down the long table at all my new employees.
“At the moment, I have no plans to make any significant changes in the company. I wish to see how you run and analyze where your problems are. There will be adjustments in oversight and, eventually, in management. These changes will come months down the road. For now, Melissa and I will be visiting each site and working with each of you individually. I plan to promote Synergy Energy Systems, making it stronger than ever. We will find and fix what led to the fire sale.”
The room erupted in chaos again as everyone started speaking at once. Holding my hands up, it took mere moments to hush the crowd again. I must have made a hell of a first impression.
“Each of you here is the director or manager of a department,” I said. “I will be meeting with you individually over the next few days to discuss your department and any needs you may have. My assistant Melissa will be scheduling the appointments. Please see her after we are done.” I turned and handed the floor to her. “Melissa?”
“Good morning, everyone. I am Melissa Fielding. I will be seated by the door as you leave to schedule your appointments. Here is my business card with my contact information. You are also to call me with any questions or concerns you have in the coming months.” She began walking around the room, passing out her cards and greeting everyone.
“Alright,” I said. “Let’s get this going. You each get two minutes to introduce yourself and tell me your position in the company. You were to block out your entire morning for this meeting. Hopefully, we won’t need more time than that. Lunch will be served at one.”
I was glad Melissa was here to take notes. By the fourth or fifth person, I realized this was going to be a very tedious meeting. They were all scared about what the acquisition meant for their positions, and each used their two minutes to make themselves sound as indispensable as possible.
A headache began to pound behind my right eye. This was the worst take-over I had ever executed. It had taken three times as long as it should have to get to this point. Usually, I just swooped in, fired everyone, and put my own team in place, but for some reason, I saw something in these people that I thought was worth saving. Although, at that moment, for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what I had seen. I needed a break from the madness to recenter myself and get back to what I did best—making money.
“Hey, Mom! I'm here!” I hollered as I let myself in through the front door. Toys and shoes littered the entrance of the small 3-bedroom bungalow. I navigated over and around them to reach the kitchen, the center of everything.
"Hi, honey!” She emerged from the kitchen in the floral apron I remembered from my childhood. As always, a towel hung over her shoulder to dry her hands, and a spot of flour stuck to her face.
She smiled and turned her cheek up to me. I dropped a kiss and gave her a hug, my arms wrapping around her soft middle. She felt like home.
“It’s so good to see you!” Over her shoulder, she shouted, “Kids, Damon is here!” At the sound of my name, they all came running.
Seven kids of various ages and Lupita, my foster mom of only two years, lived in the crowded house. I hadn’t stayed with her long, but I felt more at home there with her than I had ever felt anywhere else.
“I didn't expect to see you today,” she said, sweeping a loose lock of hair from her face. With just a touch of grey at her temples, she didn’t look any older than the day I’d shown up on her doorstep with all my belongings in a black garbage bag.
I smiled. “I know. I just kind of felt homesick. I thought I'd come see you guys. Besides, I promised Samantha I’d bring her the next book in the series she’s reading.” I looked around and found my younger foster sister. She was a tiny thing even at twelve. Her huge glasses adorably overwhelmed her narrow face. Samantha was a voracious reader, and I made sure I always brought her a new book every time I came.
“Do you have it?” She stepped out around her older brother and peered up at me, her blue eyes hopeful behind the thick lenses.
“Yeah, I do.” I pulled the paperback from the inside pocket of my suit coat and handed it to her. She took it reverently, admiring the cover before scampering off to her room to devour it. When she was gone, I turned a sad smile to Lupita.
“I know, honey,” she said, laying her hand on my arm. “Today's a hard day for all of us. We all remember her.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, thinking we said the same thing to each other year after year.
Moving into the kitchen, I sat down with them to a lunch of tamales, rice, and beans. They were the comfort foods of my childhood. The faces smiling up at me were different than those I’d shared the table with back then, but their expressions were all the same—sad and hopeful. Just like I had been.
Time passed. Children grew. They changed. I’d changed, but part of me was still the same. Inside me, there was still a boy with a trash bag full of second-hand clothes, looking for a place to call home. Once every month or so, he dragged me back to Lupita’s, the closest thing to a home he’d ever found.
“Damon,” Lupita asked. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
“Anything,” I said. “What do you need?”
“Carly’s class is going on a field trip to Washington.”
“D.C.? Oh, that’s so exciting!” I smiled at the raven-haired teen as she sat chomping her tamale across from me. “Are you looking forward to it?”
She shrugged. “Lupita says I might not be able to go because we don’t have the money.” There was no disappointment in Carly’s voice. She said matter-of-factly, not once looking up from the book I brought her.
“Ahhh… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Lupita blushed and looked at her plate. “The electric bill was really high this month. It’s been an unusually hot summer, and Joey left his bedroom windows open with the AC on for almost a week. The trip would be so good for Carly. I was wondering…?”
“Sure.” I said with a sigh. “I’ll call the school and take care of it.” Our roles had reversed. I was the one supporting Lupita and the kids now. She was the only mother I’d ever known. I had to take care of her.
Chapter 2
Damon
“I’m telling you, the food here is better.”
“No way,” I said as we followed the maître d. “Nothing is better than the House of Versailles, Melissa. I don’t care how good you say it is. It can’t possibly trump that.”
She shook her head. “I promise—you will love it. Just eat with an open mind.
”
“Fine.” We continued bantering back and forth as we were seated. Opening the menu, I leaned back in my chair and scanned the offerings. “Huh. This does look good.”
The menu was varied, offering seafood, chicken, and some prime cuts of meat. All the dishes were prepared with flair, unique blends of flavors and textures.
Of course, Melissa was right as always. Thirty minutes later, I had to admit defeat. “This food is great! I definitely need to add this place to my weekly delivery list. Who’s the chef?” I asked, enjoying a sip of the chardonnay I’d ordered to complement my fish.
“Well, this is Harper’s restaurant. She’s working today, so I’m sure she made our meals.” Melissa smiled as she leaned back in her chair.
“Oh ho! You planned this, didn’t you? Remind me again, why are we friends?” I grinned cheekily at her.
“You love me, and you know it, Damon. I keep you sane and organized, and all those other things you aren’t.” She winked. “You know you’re like a son to me.”
“I know, Melissa, and I love you for it.” I paused as the waiter approached to refill our glasses.
“Excuse me.” Melissa asked the waiter, “Can you please ask Harper Fielding to come speak with us?”
He nodded in his starched white shirt and black pants, what appeared to be the standard uniform for all the restaurant’s employees. “Yes, ma’am. I would be happy to. May I tell her who’s asking for her?”
“Yes. Please tell her that her mother and Mr. North are here. Mr. North has been enjoying her appetizers and would like to meet the chef.”
“Absolutely. I’ll pass on the request and be back in a moment with your salads.” He nodded again and sauntered off in the direction of the kitchen.
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 18