MARRYING MR. RIGHT (The Brides of Hilton Head Island Book 3) (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

              G
lancing out at the ocean from inside his office, Zeke missed Taylor terribly. Because of the short feature film she had to do, Taylor’s six weeks to Paris had turned into two months. And just the other day, she’d gotten an offer to do some print work for a fashion magazine. When she’d called him to share her good news, the excitement in her voice had come through the phone, and he couldn’t have been happier for her.

              Longing for the scent of his wife’s flesh, Zeke locked his computer, stood, and headed for the boardroom. Weeks ago, he’d scheduled Balfour’s monthly meeting today. Top executives from several Balfour hotels would be in attendance. Due to complications with the prostate cancer, his father couldn’t make the meeting today.  

              Speaking of his father, Colton had looked weak and pale while sitting at the breakfast table this morning. Before he left to come to work, Zeke had stood behind the wall and quietly watched Katherine spoon oatmeal into Colton’s mouth. She’d looked like she really did love the man for once. Maybe she’d changed after all.

              Zeke opened the door of the conference room and headed for the seat at the head of the table. The seat where the boss sat. The seat where important decisions were made. A seat he’d worked his ass off to earn.

              Zeke’s eyes traveled around the room at the men and women in attendance. “Good afternoon, everyone.”

              “Good afternoon.” The voices of Balfour’s most influential executives filled the room. 

                            “Thank you all for coming today. There’s going to be a lot of changes at Balfour Enterprises. I hope you all consider them good changes. So without further ado, let’s get started.”

                            Taking his seat, Zeke’s eyes traveled around to each of his executives. Every one of them was present except for Antonio. Angry emotions flared inside Zeke.
Antonio better have a good excuse for not being here. He better not come in here late, embarrassing me, or himself either.

                           
Throughout the presentation, Zeke’s administrative assistant, Patricia Belle, sat beside the podium, working the slide presentation. Standing at the podium, it took Zeke thirty minutes to explain and share Balfour’s rising growth with his stellar executives from around the country. He explained to them how the hotel being built in Paris was just the beginning, the icing on the cake. He’d planned on building five star hotels in China, Japan, Brazil, and even Africa.

                            Zeke observed his employees’ faces, smiles plastered on many of their mouths. Ready for the next slide, Zeke nodded at Patricia. She tapped a key on the laptop, and a new slide appeared on the screen.

                            “This screen is comprised of many salaries for Balfour employees. Being that it’s personal, only you should know your salary. Find the range of your salary, then look at the number to its right. That’s your bonus for taking the time out to come here today. Thanks for coming. I appreciate you all.”

                            Heartfelt joy from his executives spread throughout the room. After the meeting, many women and men came up to Zeke, shook his hand, and graciously thanked him for their enormous bonuses. One by one, executives exited the room, leaving him alone with Patricia and Bane.

                            “Have you spoken with Antonio today?” Zeke asked Bane in disappointment.

                            “No, I haven’t seen him or spoken with him,” Bane said.

                            “He better have a good reason—”

                            Patricia interjected, “I saw Antonio right before the meeting started. He was walking down the hallway, heading toward the spa.”

                            “He wouldn’t,” Bane said.

                           
He’s taking me and his job for granted
. “Knowing Antonio, he did. Patricia, have you had a chance to draw up those papers I asked of you yet regarding Antonio?” 

                            “Yes. I have them right here.” Patricia pulled an envelope out of her briefcase and handed it to Zeke. Zeke pulled the paper out of the envelope, signed it, then stuck it back in the envelope. Extending his hand, Zeke smiled at Bane. “Congratulations, Bane.”

                            Bane’s brows hiked. “For what?”

                            Zeke smiled. “You just got promoted, my brother.”

                            Bane looked perplexed. “Promoted? I didn’t know we were hiring.”

                            “We will be, right after I fire Antonio.” Holding on to the envelope, Zeke turned on his heels and left.

                           
No one tries me like this,
Zeke thought, marching down the hallway towards the elevator. He pressed the button, and the elevator doors glided open. Fuming, Zeke stepped inside and hit the button for the ground level, where Balfour’s upscale spa was located.

                            A few moments later, the gold elevator doors glided open. Temper rising, Zeke stepped out onto the ground level floor with the envelope in his hand. Marching down the hallway of the dimly lit spa, Zeke searched in and out of rooms for Antonio. Thus far, Antonio hadn’t been anywhere in sight. Having checked everywhere for him except the sauna, he turned and headed in that direction.

                            Zeke’s hard dress shoes traipsed along the tile floor of the sauna room. Hot steam rose above his head, clouding the moist air. Zeke pulled open the door to sauna number one, and it was empty. Saunas number two and three were empty, too.

                            Perhaps Antonio had left the spa by now. Zeke wrapped his fingers around the silver handle of the last sauna on the end and yanked it open. Anger surged through Zeke.

                            Some woman had her face in Antonio’s lap, giving him a blow job. Zeke cleared his throat. Antonio’s eyes sprang open. The lady’s head shot up from his brother’s thrusting lap. “How dare you do this in a place where the customers come?”

                            The blonde-haired woman snatched the towel from the bench, wrapped it around her body, then hastened out of the sauna. Wearing a dress shirt and bottomless, Antonio frowned. “I’ll call you later,” he called out after the blonde.
Who wears a shirt while in the sauna?
Antonio jumped to his feet. “What I do is my business.”

                            “You’re exactly right. What you do is your business. And what I do is my business. That being said, I have something for you.” Zeke extended the envelope to Antonio.             

                            “What’s that?”

                            “Just take it and read it.” Antonio snatched the envelope from Zeke’s grip, unfolded it, and began reading it. “As Donald Trump would say…Antonio Balfour, you’re fired! Pack your things and leave!”

                            Seemingly shocked, Antonio’s mouth dropped. Finally, he snapped it shut. Eyes narrowing, he balled the pink sheet in his fist.

                            Shoulders pushed back. Head held high. White steam swirled above Zeke’s head. Glad to be rid of the lazy, pompous ass man, Zeke turned and victoriously stalked away.

                            “Fuck you, Zeke!”

                           
Good riddance, asshole
. Needing to get some fresh air, Zeke exited the hotel from the spa exit and stepped outside. Walking along the side of the building, he took some very much needed deep breaths.

                            Reaching the parking lot, he pressed the button on his key fob, and the locks to his SUV popped up. His temper tamping down, he slid between the seat and steering wheel, stuck the key in the SUV’s ignition, and turned. The engine of the vehicle buzzed to life.

                            Clearly understanding Antonio wasn’t going to take getting fired lightly, Zeke pulled out on Ocean Drive and decided to go take a look at his home under construction. When he’d last spoken with the contractor, he’d mentioned his home should be completed in two to three weeks. Although that may have seemed quick to some, it wasn’t to him. Money could buy you almost anything. Money was the root of all evil.               Mildred and Kelvin had kidnapped Taylor and stolen their son for money.
Money.
People would do anything for money. And now Antonio wasn’t making any.

                            “You got what you deserved, brother.” Zeke pulled up alongside the road and stared at his and Taylor’s future home. The stucco, white oceanfront mansion looked spectacular. Green shrubbery was planted along the grounds beneath the long bay window. Taylor had done such a wonderful job designing the outside, he felt confident she’d do the same thing with the inside, too.

                            Remaining inside the SUV, Zeke rolled down the window and took a picture of the recently embedded shrubbery and flowers with his cell. He then sent the photo to Taylor via text.

                            Rolling up the window, his cell buzzed in his hand. Taylor’s picture came up on his screen. Smiling, he swiped the phone. “Hello, my wife.”

                            “Hi, my husband. I see they planted the shrubs and the flowers. From the looks of the picture, I’m very pleased. Are you?”

                            Oh, how he missed her. “Yes. It looks great.”

                            “I miss you so much, Zeke. I’m so ready to come home.”

                            “I’m miss you, too. When will you be finished?”

                            “Hopefully, in a few days. I—”

                            Zeke’s cell buzzed. Pulling the cell from his ear, he quickly glanced at the Caller ID. “Baby, sorry to interrupt you, but an important phone call just came through. I’ll call you right back.”

                            “Okay.”

                            Zeke clicked over. “Don. How are you today?”

                            “Doing rather good. Are you alone? Do you have a second to talk?” Don seemed to rush the words from his mouth.

                            “Yeah. What’s going on?”

                            Don stated, “I stumbled across something I know you’ll find interesting. Mildred’s son, Kelvin, attended high school here in Hilton Head Island. Up until the day Taylor was kidnapped, he frequently visited this area. But that’s not what has me riled up, Zeke.”

                            “What has you riled up, Don?”

                            “According to my sources, back in the day David belonged to a bad boy gang called
Southern Mafia
. While in high school, any boy that joined
Southern Mafia
had to be branded on their chest with the initials ‘SM’. Since the members of
Southern Mafia
have gotten older, they really don’t commit crimes anymore; however, from time to time they still get together. Go hunting. Fishing. Hang out at the local bars.”

                            “I don’t get it, Don. What does this have to do with Taylor’s kidnapping?”

                            “One of the guys in the gang by the name of Broderick Whitefield’s wife was pregnant ten years ago. Well, a week before Taylor went missing, Broderick’s wife miscarried. She was seven months pregnant when she lost the baby.”

                            “Whoa.”

                            “But here’s the kicker, Zeke. Our bad boy Broderick still lives right here in Hilton Head. Broderick is now a multimillionaire cosmetic surgeon…a respectable doctor in the community. He has money coming out of his ears! Broderick has enough money to have hired Mildred and Kelvin. Brace yourself.” Zeke’s body tensed. Don continued. “Broderick and his wife have a ten-year-old son. Their son is the same age as yours. This is progress, Zeke. Progress!”

                            “Oh God, Don. If your theory proves correct, this means Taylor and my son lives right here in Hilton Head.”

                            “Exactly!” 

                            Don and Zeke ended their conversation.                            

                            Still sitting inside his SUV, Zeke felt elated about the news Don had just shared with him.
Dr. Broderick Whitefield may have my Zavier
. Overly excited, Zeke called Taylor back and filled her in on everything.

                            While on the phone with her, she’d gotten so overwhelmed, she started crying. More than anything, Zeke wished he could’ve been with Taylor in Paris when he’d told her what Don had said. Been there to kiss her cheek. To dry her tears.

                            After Zeke got off the phone with Taylor, he drove to Charlie’s Steak House for a rib eye and loaded baked potato. Finishing up a quick dinner, he then drove way out to Beaufort to tutor Jaheem and Evan.

                            Now at the group care facility, sitting at a table beside Evan, Zeke read the book
Letters to a Young Brother
, by Hill Harper, to the little kid. Clenching the inspiring book in his hands, Zeke’s words trailed off. He turned to look at Evan. “We’ll finish the rest of the book tomorrow.”