She put on her right signal as she switched lanes. Natasha was taking the next off-ramp. She was looking forward to slipping off her heels and relaxing. It had been a trying day, to say the least.
Ari and his father escorted Ira and his assistant to the door.
“I’m only a phone call away,” Ira told them. “Call if you have any questions.”
“There won’t be anything pressing that can’t wait until morning,” Malcolm responded.
Ari settled down in the living room and turned on the television. Malcolm was about to join him when Franklin appeared from another room.
“The master bedroom has been prepared for you, Mr. Alexander.” He turned to Ari and said, “You will be in the guest room across the hall.”
“Thank you,” they said in unison.
“Mr. Alexander, is there anything I can get for you before dinner?” Franklin inquired.
“We’re fine,” Malcolm said.
“Chef Ricardo will have dinner prepared promptly at 6:00 p.m.”
There was a thin smile on his lips as Malcolm gave a slight nod. “Thank you.”
Franklin disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.
“That dude bothers me,” Ari whispered. “I wonder if he even knows how to smile. Maybe it’s in the Butlers of America handbook or something that smiling is strictly forbidden.”
Laughing, Malcolm nodded in agreement. “I don’t know how Robert could have him lurking around all of the time. Ira told me that Franklin and Chef Ricardo actually live across the hall in accommodations for personal staff. However, he moved into the room near the kitchen when Robert got sick. He was very loyal to Robert.”
Ari gave his father a sidelong glance and said in a loud whisper, “Well, now he’s yours.”
Malcolm sighed softly. He got up and walked into the conference room. He returned a few minutes later carrying the letter from Robert. “I guess I should read this now.”
“You don’t have to do it until you’re ready,” Ari told him. “Maybe you should wait until you’re with Mom.”
“I thought about that, but I changed my mind,” Malcolm said. “I guess my curiosity is getting the better of me.”
They sat down at the table, side by side.
Malcolm opened the letter. He read the words aloud.
Malcolm,
I’m sure the news that you are my son has blindsided you and for that, I apologize. I have long wanted to come to you, but your mother made me promise never to disrupt your life.
I met Pearle Strickland in Wilmington, North Carolina, when she worked as a housekeeper for the DePaul DeSoto Hotel owned by my family. I want you to know that Pearle and I were very much in love, but we were both concerned with how our relationship would be viewed by the world and our families.
When Pearle found out that she was pregnant, she decided it was best to spare my family the scandal by leaving town. This was not what I wanted, but I’m sure you are aware of your mother’s stubborn streak—she would have it no other way.
Soon after, I received word that she was getting married and she urged me to forget about her. She told me that Theodore Alexander was a good man and would be a good father to you. She insisted that this was the way it had to be. I was to never have any contact with you.
Although this was what your mother wanted, I found it hard not to keep track of how you were progressing. My wife and I were never fortunate to have children. I have always believed God would not allow me another child because I had not honored the one he blessed me with. Malcolm, I want you to understand that this is not about my guilt in not publicly recognizing you as my son.
It is no accident that you are in the hospitality business. Your mother had always shown an interest in her own hotel, and I was happy to teach her everything I knew at the time. I believe she used the money I had given her when she left to purchase the small inn she owned. She and her husband transformed what was virtually nothing into a very successful bed-and-breakfast.
Then you returned home from the military and opened the first Alexander Hotel. Five years later, the second one opened, and that’s when I knew that you were the one who would carry the DePaul Hotel Group into the future. You have the vision and the business acumen I desire in a successor. Vision is the most powerful thing owned by any human being, even stronger than financial power. With you at the helm, I expect our modus operandi will continue harmoniously as we have done in the past.
Despite all you will hear about me, the one thing I want you to know for sure—I was just a man who loved a woman, but was foolish enough to allow others to keep me away from her. For that, I am deeply ashamed.
I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me. Although we never had as much as a conversation, I have always loved you as a son. If only God had granted me a few more years. I did not want to come to you as an ill man.
I will leave this earth in peace, knowing that I have finally corrected a grievous wrong. You are the future of the DePaul Hotel Group.
Your father,
Robert DePaul
“So, what do you think?” Ari questioned half in anticipation, half in dread as he silently observed a range of emotions that had settled on his father’s face.
Malcolm shrugged. “If Robert DePaul wanted a relationship with me, he could have had one, regardless of how my mother felt. All he had to do was acknowledge me as his son. What could she have done?” He folded the letter carefully and stuck it back into the envelope.
“I get the feeling he didn’t want to embarrass Grandma.” Ari met his father’s gaze. “I do believe that he wanted to have a relationship with you, though.”
Malcolm didn’t seem convinced. “His wife never gave him children. If she had, do you really think he would have left his estate to me?”
Ari didn’t know the answer to that, but he replied, “He didn’t have to leave it to you, Dad. He could’ve left it to his DePaul relatives.”
“Maybe he should have,” Malcolm uttered.
“Dad, don’t say that.”
“I don’t need his money.”
“But he wanted you to have it,” Ari countered. “Dad, you are his son and he made sure that you were taken care of—I think it’s admirable.”
“Or misplaced guilt,” Malcolm contributed. “He made a choice a long time ago, and he should have left it at that.”
“You’re angry,” Ari told his father.
The tense lines on Malcolm’s face relaxed. “My life was fine, and I’m not so sure I’m willing to give it up for a three-ring circus.”
Ari nodded in understanding. His father was a private man, and his inheritance had thrust him into the limelight.
“Dad, legally you are entitled to everything Robert DePaul left you, and I think it’s an incredible blessing. You and Mom have always talked about owning a chain of hotels—you can do that now. Dad, this is in our blood.”
“Your mother and I will pray over this situation. The good Lord above will guide us in making the right decision.”
Ari agreed.