A Stallion Dream. Deborah Fletcher Mello
Irene’s favorite thing to do for as long as she could remember.
“Collin, can we ride to church with you? We want to ride in your new car.”
He gave her a look back, not easily swayed by her sweet smile and the doe-eyed gaze she was giving him. He had no doubt that Trouble One and Trouble Two had other plans up their sleeves that probably involved him driving them to the mall after Sunday service. Before he could respond, his uncle Mason bellowed from the other end of the table, saving him from what surely would have turned into a moment of discord, with him being the villain.
“Sorry, girls, but Collin is chauffeuring us boys to church this morning. He promised me, Jake, Fletcher and Cole a ride. You two will have to catch him next time.”
Collin shot his uncle a grateful look. He winked at his cousins, and the girls pouted profusely at having their plans usurped. “Sorry, girls,” he said as he reached for the platter of bacon and took a second helping.
“What about after church?” Irene asked, shifting forward as she batted her lashes at him.
“I’m going horseback riding. I haven’t been down to the stables since I got home. I need to check on my horse and I’m sure the stalls probably need mucking and the horses need to be brushed. Maybe you two could come and help me out?”
“Yuck!” both said in unison, their faces twisted with aversion.
“Let’s not,” Irene said with a shake of her head.
“And just say we did!” Gabrielle concluded as she finished her favorite cousin’s new favorite saying.
Breakfast was the best of everything Collin loved about his family. Laughter was abundant, advice was as generous as the food, and standing there in the shadows of the men he loved most, Collin knew that whatever worries he might have had, he had more than his fair share of support to help him get through. Home had never felt better.
London Jacobs eyed her two best friends with a raised brow. The two women stood in her office, peeking through the closed blinds and out toward the conference room. They were giggling like grade-schoolers. Paula Graves and Felicia Tyson waved her inside, closing the door as she stepped over the threshold.
“What’s going on?” London asked as she moved to the executive’s chair made of leather, dropping her purse into the desk drawer and her leather attaché on the desktop.
Paula waved a hand in her direction. “Good morning! The new guy is here.”
“And he’s absolutely gorgeous!” Felicia exclaimed. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to work with him and stay focused.”
London laughed, “You two are unbelievable!” She moved to the glass and pulled the blinds open. Just as she did, she came face-to-face with the firm’s director of operations, who was standing on the other side of the glass. Perry Swann was headed toward the conference room. He came to an abrupt halt, his eyes shifting to stare at the three of them. He suddenly gestured for their attention, waving them to follow him.
“This can’t be good,” Felicia said. She shot London a look.
“It’s not even nine o’clock yet,” Paula muttered, her head waving.
London gave the man a nod and slight smile, then watched as he turned and disappeared into the meeting room. She focused back on her friends, her eyes rolling skyward. “I’m sure it’s fine. You two need to stop being so dramatic.”
“After the weekend I’ve had, I deserve to be dramatic,” Felicia said. “Gary came home and all he did was argue with the old people,” she said, referring to her brother. Her wayward sibling had been a boil on the family’s good name since his first arrest when he was sixteen. Their father was a state representative who’d focused his election on the social evils of addiction and crime. Representative Tyson had lifted his only son up as an example of his understanding of the plight facing the families in his district. London could only begin to imagine their turmoil with Gary’s current release for yet another petty crime. She nodded, reaching to give the young woman a hug.
The three women exhaled simultaneously, low gusts of air blowing past glossy lips. Their gazes shifted back and forth, and then they laughed.
London moved to the door and pulled it open. “Let’s go meet the new guy,” she said.
* * *
“Ladies, good morning,” Perry said as he greeted the trio with a stern stare. He met each of their gazes as he beckoned them into the room.
“Good morning, Perry,” London said, narrowing her gaze as she met his. “To what do we owe the honor this morning?”
Most of the staff was sitting around, sipping cups of coffee and eating doughnuts from Jarams Artisan Donuts. The shop was a north Dallas fixture that specialized in pretty confections. Three white baker’s boxes held fried rings of dough filled with an assortment of creams, drizzled with glazes and sprinkled with powdered sugar, nuts and candies. They scented the whole room with an abundance of sweet fragrance.
Perry gestured toward the other end of the space and the man standing there, shaking hands. “I figured since we were having a staff meeting and welcoming our new attorney, it wouldn’t hurt to kick off the week with a treat.”
London gave him a slight nod. Perry had only recently assumed responsibility for the law firm and was still finding his balance with the staff. He had a reputation for being uptight and a tad anal. He was a stickler for punctuality and usually frowned on them not using every minute of their time working. She couldn’t help wondering what was so special about the new guy that warranted the party-like welcome.
Perry seemed to read her mind. His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in to whisper, “His name is Collin Stallion. Heir to Stallion Enterprises and the infamous Stallion family fortune. His mother is also...”
“Judge Katrina Stallion. She serves the 232nd District Criminal Court. I’m familiar with her. She has a large presence at the Dallas Girls Club. She’s been mentoring there for years.” There was a hint of awe in London’s tone.
Perry nodded his head excitedly. “Yes! And the Stallion family have been great supporters of all our efforts. His father has volunteered his services here many times and John Stallion sits on the board.”
London barely gave the man a hint of a smile in response. There weren’t many in Dallas who didn’t know the Stallion name or reputation. Stallion Enterprises had been started by John Stallion, one of four brothers. It was a successful corporate empire built on commercial real estate and development, as well as a shipping company, numerous entertainment interests and a lengthy chain of hotels. The brothers—Matthew, Mark, Luke and John—had grown the endeavor into a multi-billion-dollar enterprise.
“Let me introduce you,” Perry started, just as his secretary called his name, gesturing frantically for his attention.
“Please, go,” London said. “I’ll introduce myself.”
As Perry hurried out of the room, London turned to eye the man who had most of the women, and a few of the men, fawning for his attention. Paula and Felicia had already shaken hands with him and both now sat at the table, doughnuts in hand as they whispered like two hens. She shook her head at them as Paula gestured in his direction, winking teasingly.
Collin Stallion was definitely as good-looking as both her friends had claimed. He was tall, easily standing over six feet. He was dressed in a silk suit that fitted him to perfection, the dark navy flattering his warm beige complexion. A white dress shirt, red paisley necktie and black patent-leather dress shoes completed the ensemble. The shoes were expensive and highly polished, and told London everything she needed to know about the man. His hair was dreadlocked, the light, sandy-brown strands falling just past his shoulders. He’d captured the length in a neat ponytail that hung down the center