“Thank you, Kim. That means a lot. I guess I just needed to hear it.”
Kimberly patted her hand. “We all do sometimes.” Yesterday, she’d needed the very same thing from her father. “So how about we all look at the mock-ups that Robyn prepared to wow Hayley Dunham and talk menus?”
Over the next hour, she, Robyn and Gabrielle did just that. By the end they’d agreed to present three themes to Hayley Dunham, who was coming in two days. It would give Gabrielle enough time to purchase several items that were critical to the complicated four-course menu that included a dessert using molecular gastronomy.
“Are you sure you haven’t put too much on yourself?” Kimberly asked her. “It’s an elaborate one.”
“It is, but it’ll guarantee us winning the Dunham contract,” Gabrielle replied. “And it’s important to me that we do.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” Robyn said. “If anything goes wrong...”
“Nothing will go wrong.” Gabrielle popped up from her chair. “This would be a big coup for us. I can just see my parents’ faces now...” Her voice trailed as she stared out the window.
“What about them?” Kimberly asked.
“They’ve attended the Dunham gala every year,” Gabrielle answered.
“Did you?” Robyn asked.
Kimberly knew Robyn had grown up in the projects. Her friend looked a bit starstruck at the thought of Gabrielle at such a lavish event.
Gabrielle shook her head. “No, it wasn’t really my thing, but my parents always did. Can you imagine how shocked they would be to learn that I am partially behind its success?”
“It would certainly make a statement,” Robyn replied.
“Then it’s no-holds-barred,” Kimberly said. “We go all out.” Gabrielle wasn’t the only one with something to prove. She would show her parents and her brothers that she could make the Belleza an even greater success. There was no doubt in her mind that with her and her friends’ hard work, it would be.
* * *
Instead of going to the pool, which was his usual MO for this time of day, Jaxon stayed in his villa. He wasn’t going to be present in Beverly Hills for the Dunham Foundation Board of Directors’ meeting, but he would call in. Despite how angry he was with his parents, the work he did at the Dunham Foundation was important to him and he wouldn’t shirk it.
How could he when it was founded by his great-grandparents? They’d given a twenty-five-thousand-dollar donation to start the Foundation during a time of great unrest in the country. African-Americans were fighting against injustice and his grandparents had wanted to help those less fortunate during those tough times. The Foundation had come a long way from its humble beginnings.
Today, the Dunham Foundation was a success because they’d harnessed his grandparents’ initial investments into future growth capital, which was part of the work Jaxon oversaw among his other duties as director. In addition to promoting democratic values and reducing injustice, the Foundation gave grants to reduce poverty, foster cultural expression, strengthen children’s futures with higher education and deepen connections to nature and community around them.
He dialed the Foundation’s number and Pam, the receptionist, answered.
“Jaxon,” she whispered into the phone. “Your parents are fit to be tied that you didn’t return for the meeting.”
“I expected as much, but thanks for the heads-up, Pam. Patch me through to the conference room.”
“Sure thing. Good luck.”
Several seconds later, the connection was made and a feminine voice asked, “Jaxon, is that you?” He didn’t need to be present to know who it was. It was his mother.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m here.”
“The question is why you aren’t here?” his father asked through the line.
“Let’s not get into that right now,” Jaxon responded. “I assume everyone is present. Has roll call been taken?”
“No, we were just about to do it,” his sister, Hayley, replied. She was secretary as well as a director at the Foundation along with his parents, his uncle, Robert, and aunt, Eleanor, and their two sons, Andre and Mason.
“Then let’s get started,” his father replied.
After roll call was taken, his cousin, who was in charge of grants, went through several grantee applications, highlighting their strengths and weaknesses.
“Well, I, for one, think we should finally get involved with autism,” Jaxon heard his aunt Eleanor say. “The disorder is becoming more prevalent. This would be a great cause to champion.”
“So are the other candidates,” his father commented. “We have to look at our mission statement and see how they fit with our core values.”
“I agree with Daddy, Auntie,” Hayley said. “As much as that’s a great cause, the local food bank Second Harvest is in desperate need of our support. I think we should consider them for the grant.”
“Why can’t we do both?” Jaxon asked from the other end of the line. “It doesn’t have to be one over the other.” He knew his sister was active in local charities, and wanted to support her.
The conversation raged on for nearly an hour with no decision before his father as president and presiding officer agreed to table the discussion to the next board meeting.
Jaxon was about to hang up when the meeting concluded but his father stopped him. “Stay on the line, son.”
Jaxon was not looking forward to this discussion, but he would listen out of respect for his father. He heard voices dissipating before he said, “Yes?”
“You have your poor mother up in arms.”
“She should be,” Jaxon said. “She and Stephanie concocted this whole ruse to get me down the aisle and it backfired.”
“You know we just want what’s best for you, son.”
“Let’s be real, Dad. You want the next Dunham heir to carry on the family name. But I’m not there yet and you can’t force my hand. Help Mom realize that, because until you do, I’m not coming home.”
Abruptly, Jaxon ended the call. There wasn’t anything left to be said. The only thing he wanted right now was a massage. His family had gotten him all stressed-out when he’d been in such a good place.
He picked up the receiver and quickly arranged for a relaxation massage in ten minutes. The spa had a cancellation and was able to squeeze him in. A massage would be exactly what he needed to let go of the family drama. Tearing off his T-shirt, he changed into some shorts, slipped on his flip-flops and headed out the door.
The massage was peaceful and serene and as he closed his eyes and the masseur’s hands roamed over his shoulders, he let the worries of the day fade. His parents had no idea where he was, so he was free to do as he pleased. Speaking of doing as he pleased... An image of Kimberly popped into his subconscious. Her smooth caramel-colored skin, those long shapely legs that met a curvaceous bottom had him suppressing a groan.
He didn’t want the masseur to think him a pervert, but the woman had invaded his thoughts when he was supposed to be relaxing. Now, instead of feeling relaxed after the massage, he felt more anxious than before. He needed to get back to his room and take a cold shower. Maybe then he could get those sexy images of Kimberly out of his mind.
He was so deep in thought as he rushed back to the villa that he didn’t watch his step and collided with a warm body. His hands instinctively reached out to stop them both from falling.