The Book of Adam, page 28
Adam laughed. “We are talking like this is our new home.”
“I think it is.” She twirled around. “What a great way to start a new year.” She kissed him. “A new job for me.”
“A new adventure for us.” Adam pulled her close. “I think we are home.” He leaned against the desk and the wall to the right of them slid open.
They both stood, stunned at the new discovery. “It’s a tunnel.” He grabbed her hand and walked through. The hallway was lined with pictures. On the left was Joe, Samuel, Joshua, Mathew, Luke, Timothy, and him. On the right was Sally, Ruby, Pearl, Diamond, Opal, Jade and Phire.
“There are pictures of my parents in the hallway off the office I like.”
“They have been here.” Adam shook his head. “When did they find time?”
The two laughed as they continued to a door at the end of the hallway. There was a card posted on it. Adam took it down and read it.
Family is your backbone…Samuel.
Adam smiled, shook his head then pushed the door open. It led to a four bay garage. Inside was a black SUV wrapped in a big red bow with a sign in the window.
You found your way… Joshua.
They ran down the steps to the vehicle and opened the box on the hood. Inside was a small device with Genevieve II printed on it. Adam picked it up, looked at Amber then pushed the button. The side of the garage slid open leading into an outside tunnel.
“Let’s go for a ride,” Amber squealed.
His by the book doc had transformed into an adventure-seeking junkie. Not bad for a brainiac, he thought, as he reached over, took the hat off her head and placed it on his.
“Are you ready for an adventure?”
“With you, Adam Fitzgerald Lassiter, I’m ready for anything.”
“Anything?” Adam opened the back door of the SUV. "Have you ever made love to a man wearing a fedora?”
Sneak Preview
Of
INVESTED
DUNNING TRILOGY
Chapter 1
Winnieford Barrington mourns the loss of her husband of thirty-eight years, Hepburn Ellington Barrington, the President and CEO of one of the most prestigious banks in the country. Today, at the first meeting of the board of directors, a predecessor will be named. The question is who will take over the leadership role of the nation’s largest African-American owned bank.
Today’s meeting of the board of directors for Barrington Bank and Trust was certainly out of the ordinary. This one was special in every way imaginable. Seated around the oval shaped cherry-wood table, in the conference room on the twelfth floor of the downtown Richmond headquarters office, were directors with very solemn faces. None thought this day would come this soon. After twenty years as president and CEO of Barrington Bank and Trust, Hepburn Ellington Barrington had passed away suddenly of a heart attack during a family dispute with his youngest daughter Annemarie.
The tension, caused by the effect of Hep’s death, was felt throughout the room by the members of the board seated at the conference table. William Mitchell, vice-president of the bank, sat in his usual seat on the left at the head of the table silently scrutinizing the other three non-family members who had voting rights. The members were diverse in nationality and age. Hep always prided himself with the knowledge that he was open to all who worked hard and proved their worth. Mitchell shivered at the thought. It was always his belief to stack the board to ensure his directions were carried out as he saw fit. Now that Hep was dead and gone, that was no longer a concern as long as the vote went his way. In his estimation, Elaine Jacobson, who had been his sounding board for the last ten years whenever he was displeased with Hep’s decisions, would surely support him as president. His gaze moved on to Preston Long, a young thirty-something Italian or Mexican, Mitchell wasn’t sure which and didn’t care. As long as Preston voted with him, he would give him the promotion he promised. The only one Mitchell was not sure about was Cainan Walker, the newest member. Cainan was a bit of a mystery. Hep had brought him onboard about a year ago from Wall Street to head up the Investment Department. On paper, he was a very accomplished young man in his late twenties, but investigations were not complete on his personal background and that bothered Mitchell. He liked knowing all he could about the people around him, good and bad; that way he could always manipulate at will. The double doors to the conference room opened, interrupting his assessment of his chances and in walked the Barrington family board members.
Winnieford Barrington walked in on the arm of her second son Michael Anthony. If anyone had seen them on the street, they could have easily been mistaken as a couple. Looking at least fifteen years younger than her fifty-five years, she was fashionably dressed in a black shell dress with a thick red belt around her slim waist, black pumps, the usual pearl necklace with matching earrings—accessories complimenting her short haircut and radiant, but sad face. Michael, dressed impeccably in Armani gray with a pink shirt, that only a very secure man could pull off, and matching tie, escorted his mother to the head of the table. Gary Hepburn, the youngest and most outspoken of the sons, wore Sean John, navy blue silk, no tie and that confident swagger that seemed to run in the family. Then there was Grace Heather. The woman that dressed as the ultimate professional wore her usual navy blue blazer and skirt set with a white blouse and matching pumps. Last, but certainly not least of all—Myles Monroe, the oldest son who was the spitting image of Hep, strolled in dressed in Gucci gray, as if it was made just for his body. This was the man. This was the only person William saw as a threat to him taking over as president and ceo of Barrington Bank and Trust.
Winnieford took her seat at the right of her now deceased husband’s chair, directly across from Mitchell. Doing the one thing she did not feel, she stood, smiled and brought the meeting to order. “Thank you all for coming to this emergency meeting. As chairman of the board of directors, I officially call this meeting to order. Our first order of business is the selection of the new president and ceo of Barrington Bank and Trust. To clear up rumors, I would like to say as much as I love this great institution and as much as I respect its rich history, I have no desire to take over where Hep left off. I will remain as chairman of the board of directors, but will not take over as president and ceo.” She stopped, exhaled, “With that said, the floor is now open for nominations for the position.”
Preston Long stood, “May I be heard?”
“You have the floor,” Winnieford replied, then took her seat.
“Thank you Mrs. Barrington. First I would like to offer my condolences to the Barrington family. Hep was a great mentor and employer, but a lousy golfer.” The group smiled, for they all knew that was true. “Knowing he was at the end of the hall was always a comfort to me. There was never a time in my professional or personal life that Hep wasn’t there encouraging me. He will be missed. Now, to the matter at hand, it is important that we show our clientele the tradition of encouraging entrepreneurship, self-dependency and financial stability at Barrington will continue the way that it has over the last twenty years. I believe the person to do that would be the same person that has been by Hep’s side during that time, William Mitchell.”
The expected nominations did not take anyone by surprise. Winnieford reached over and placed her hand on the arm of the chair where Hep would have been seated. Never showing any emotions, she silently vowed, “Don’t worry darling, I will not let it happen. Your wishes will be carried out.”
Elaine Jacobson stood, “I second the nomination,” she stated, as Preston took his seat, and then quickly retook her seat.
Winnieford waited patiently, sending a silent prayer for someone to step in. A subtle glance down the table showed her eldest son Myles begin to stand and her heart knew he was going to give his backing to Mitchell. But before Myles could speak, Michael called out, “Before we go further, may I address the board?”
A sigh of relief crossed Winnieford’s face, “Yes of course,” she replied, as a stern look was sent down the table to her oldest son.
“Since its inception in 1840, Barrington Bank and Trust has been led by a Barrington. Mitch, I mean no disrespect and commend the job you have done for the institution, however, we have two very capable Barrington's on the board; Grace and Myles. I respectfully submit both names for consideration.”
Before Winnieford could place the names into nominations, Grace stood and chimed in, “I just as respectfully decline the nomination, but second the nomination of Myles Monroe Barrington.” Grinning at her oldest brother, Grace retook her seat.
Silence ensued as all eyes went to Myles. Winnieford closed her eyes for a moment to give her son at least the opportunity to decline, but secretly prayed that he would not. When the moment passed, her heart burst with joy. It took all her will not to let it show. “The nomination of Myles Barrington will be added to that of William Mitchell. Are there any others?” She waited. There were none. “William Mitchell and Myles Barrington, as you know the voting of positions are done in private to ensure no retaliation. Will you please step out while we deliberate?
William stood, adjusted his suit jacket around his protruding abdomen, walked over to the door and opened it as he waited for Myles to stand. Myles sat there with pen in hand and looked to his brother Michael. The smirk on his face was something he’d had to deal with all his life. He then looked at Grace, who he thought would have his back on this, but instead she sat up straight and had the nerve to smile at him. He turned from her and looked at Gary who was grinning like a cat that ate the canary. Last, he looked at his mother. The sadness of the loss of her soul mate was still evident in her eyes, but so was the hope that he would do the right thing. That was his undoing.
Myles placed the pen on top of his portfolio and walked out the door wondering if everyone in his family was out to destroy his life.
In the reception area outside the conference door, Myles nodded and smiled at Marie Vazquez, his father’s private secretary for the past twelve years.
Mrs. Vazquez returned the smiled with a chuckle. “They roped you in?”
“Something like that,” Myles replied with a tilt of his head.
“Well, son, you know I’m here for you no matter how the vote goes,” William stated with the right amount of assurance to convince a less observant person.
Mrs. Vazquez walked towards the men, patting Myles on the back. “We will all be here, for you Myles.” She smiled then walked out of the area completely ignoring William.
Looking down at the five nine, two hundred-fifty pound pudgy man for a long minute, he always wondered why his father kept him around. Once when he and his father had a disagreement about Mitch, his father said, ‘it’s better to keep your enemies close.’ With that in mind, Myles extended his hand, “Same here, Mitch.”
As they shook hands, William was seething inside. He’d hated when Hep called him Mitch. Now, if this vote did not go his way he would have to deal with his sons calling him that. His name was William, not Mitch. It seemed a norm for these people to shorten each other’s name at will. Well, not him. It appeared the only person who respected that was Winnieford. Of course he had to explain it to her in the early days, but she had not forgotten. She always, always, referred to him as William. That was one of the things he loved about her. Well, as much as a white man could love a black woman, that is. Back in the day Winnieford was a beauty. Hell she’s not far from it now. But there was no way he could have her once he’d made the mistake of introducing Hep to her. They all went to college together. Hep played on the football team with him and Winnieford was his history tutor. Imagine that—a black girl tutoring him. But she was smart, pretty and he was hot for her. Then he’d made the mistake of introducing her to Hep and that was all she wrote for him. Once Hep graduated, he married Winnieford and out of gratitude offered William a job at his family owned bank. As it turned out, it was the best offer to come his way, so he settled knowing that one day he would take the business over. Today was that day.
Ten minutes later, Winnieford opened the door to the conference room and asked them to step in. Closing it behind the men as they entered, she walked back to the head of the table to make the announcement. “The new president and ceo of Barrington Bank and Trust is Myles Monroe Barrington.” Smiling, Winnieford put her hand on the back of Hep’s chair. “Please take your seat at the head of the table.”
Twenty years of practice had granted William with the acting ability to appear to be genuinely happy with the results, but inside he was seething. Standing back at his place at the table, William joined the members of the board in applauding the selection. As the members retook their seats, Myles Monroe Barrington remained where he stood. He would accept the position, but he was not ready to take his father’s chair. Unbuttoning the single button on his suit blazer, the handsome, reserved thirty-five-year old—six-two, two hundred twenty-five pound—first born of Hepburn and Winnieford Barrington inserted his hands into his pockets and hung his head. When he looked up, his heart may have been hesitant to take his father’s position, but his eyes showed he had accepted the responsibility and was ready to be at the helm. “My father once told me that a man’s place is determined by his worth. While I am willing to accept the position of president and CEO, I will not take his seat at this table until you, the members of this board, declare me worthy.” He retook the seat at the far end of the table to continue the meeting.
When Myles took his seat, Winnieford spoke, “It is with honor and pride that I now turn over the control of Barrington Bank and Trust to Myles Barrington.” She pushed her chair under the table as Myles began to speak.
“The first line of business will be to assure our employees that all is secure and we are ready to move forward. The second will be to assure customers of the same.”
Although she knew it was not proper, Winnieford stopped at Myles’ seat, kissed her son on the cheek and then left the room.
Unable to resist, a smile tugged at Myles’ lips as he continued with his statement. Gary, the prankster of the family, rolled up a sheet of paper and threw it at his oldest brother, hitting him right in the middle of his forehead. “Mommy’s boy,” he laughed.
Myles stopped mid-sentence and stared at his little brother as members around the table joined in laughing. The action eased the tension remaining from the vote. In his mind Myles knew there were some feathers ruffled and they would need to be addressed before Barrington Bank and Trust could flow smoothly again. He looked at William Mitchell, nodded as his way of acknowledging the man’s feelings, and for a split second he saw the hatred in the man’s eyes, before he returned the nod with a smile. Keep your enemies close. The statement from his father ran through his mind. Moving the paper to the side, Myles continued with the meeting.
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Iris Bolling, The Book of Adam
