Buch lesen: «The Alexanders of Beverly Hills»

Chapter 1

“Dad, what are you thinking about?” Ari Alexander asked.

His father sat with his brows drawn together in an agonized expression. He hadn’t said much since learning he was the only heir to the late Robert DePaul’s vast estate, which included the chain of luxury DePaul Hotel & Spa Resorts.

Three days ago, they were just a family living a normal life in the small town of Aspen, Georgia, located forty miles west of Atlanta. They had been thrust into the limelight with the news that Malcolm Alexander was the illegitimate love child between the hotel magnate and Pearle Strickland, an African American woman.

“Dad,” Ari prompted. “You okay?”

“Just wondering why my mother never thought she could tell me about him,” Malcolm replied. “She never once mentioned Robert DePaul. I have no idea how she could’ve met him. As far as I know, she never left Georgia. She did tell me that Theodore Alexander wasn’t my biological father, but that never mattered to me. He was a good father.”

He drew his lips in thoughtfully then glanced out the window of the private plane transporting them to Los Angeles. “She never volunteered any other information about my real father, and I never asked her about him, but now I wish I had. Knowing about Robert DePaul could’ve prepared me some for all this.” He shrugged. “My mind is going in a hundred different directions.”

Ari nodded in understanding. Robert DePaul had been one of the richest men in the world until his death a week ago. His attorney contacted Ari’s father, and now they were headed to meet with Ira Goodman.

“I keep wondering where Grandma met DePaul.”

Malcolm gave a slight shrug. “Son, I suppose we won’t ever find out, but evidently their paths must have crossed at some point, if what they’re saying is true.”

“The media are having a field day with this,” Ari uttered. “Robert DePaul’s African-American son is sole heir to his fortune. I can’t wait to see the expression on the faces of our newfound relatives. I can read the headlines now—‘The Georgia Hillbillies Are Moving to Beverly Hills.’”

“Our family lives just fine, Ari,” Malcolm interjected quickly. “We don’t have to take this man’s money or anything he owns. I’m only flying out there to learn more about the man who fathered me—not committing to anything else.”

A muscle quivered at Ari’s jaw. “Dad, he was your father, and legally, you are entitled to everything DePaul left in his will for you. It’s your legacy.”

“Just because I’m entitled doesn’t mean I want it,” Malcolm responded. He rested his chin on his hand.

Ari gave Malcolm a sidelong glance. “What does Mom think about all this?”

“You know your mother,” Malcolm said. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “She told me that she’s fine with whatever I decide to do.”

That sounded exactly like his mother, Ari thought. Barbara Alexander trusted her husband’s instincts as much as she relied on her own. His parents were partners in business as well as in life, and perfect examples of what a good marriage should look like.

Ari glanced down at the wedding band on his left ring finger, his heart saturated with grief.

At thirty-two years old, Ari was a widower, having lost his wife to cancer. He was still dealing with her death two years later.

He glanced over at his father, who appeared to be deep in thought. Ari and his siblings all agreed that their father should accept his inheritance, but they knew that their deeply spiritual parents would not make a decision until they spent time in prayer, seeking divine guidance.

Ari couldn’t understand why his father would willingly walk away from his inheritance. His parents and grandparents had worked in the hospitality industry for as long as Ari could remember, and they often talked about owning a chain of high-end hotels. This was a dream come true—not just for his mom and dad, but also for him.

They owned two hotels that were performing well, but they always dreamed of expanding. Ari loved working alongside his parents, and this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to manage a conglomerate like the DePaul Hotel Group was just too tempting to pass up.

Ultimately, it was his father’s decision, and his alone to make. Despite what Ari felt about it, he would respect Malcolm’s choice.

The May temperature in California was what Ari considered comfortable. It wasn’t extremely hot and it wasn’t as humid as it was back home.

They had arrived at the Los Angeles International Airport fifteen minutes ago and were now in a sleek, black limousine on the way to Beverly Hills. Ari and his family had traveled to California for vacation once, but it had been years ago. Nothing looked familiar except for the palm trees and all of the nonstop traffic that flowed around them.

In Aspen, there were no hour-long commutes to work in a sea of heavy traffic, no outrageously priced real estate markets, no driving all the way across town to reach his favorite stores or restaurants.

In Aspen, the residents knew one another. Los Angeles would take some getting used to, Ari decided. The only time he’d left Aspen for a length of time was when he attended college in Pennsylvania.

Ari guessed they were in Beverly Hills when the scenery transformed from concrete sidewalks to lush, green lawns and from high-rises to mansions.

Malcolm checked his watch. “It didn’t take long to get here from the airport. Just about thirty minutes.”

They were in the heart of Beverly Hills, only steps from renowned Rodeo Drive. Ari drank in the beauty of the DePaul Hotel. “Wow,” he murmured. “Dad, this now belongs to you.”

Malcolm’s faint smile held a touch of sadness. “Welcome to the DePaul Beverly Hills Hotel,” a young man said as they exited the limo. “Miss Rivera will escort you to your meeting.”

A young woman with blond hair and wearing a trendy-looking business suit greeted them within minutes of stepping inside the swanky hotel. “Mr. Goodman is waiting for you in the penthouse,” she told them.

Ari took note that the outside of the hotel had been inspired by the Spanish Revival architecture and Mediterranean styling that was so prevalent in Beverly Hills. The interior evoked timeless elegance in sun-drenched colors of gold, salmon, coral and cream.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispered.

His father agreed. “Looks much better in person than in the magazines.”

Ari agreed.

They were taken up to the DePaul residence via private elevator and greeted by a stoic-faced man introduced to them as Franklin.

“He was Mr. DePaul’s butler,” the young woman explained. She led them into a conference room.

The attorney rose to greet them, but it was the woman behind him who caught Ari’s attention immediately. His gaze focused on her face and then moved over her body slowly. Her skin reminded him of a smooth café au lait. There was just a hint of makeup on her face, dark brown eyeliner that enhanced her almond-shaped eyes.

Ira Goodman shook hands with both of them. “I asked Natasha LeBlanc to join us. She is a business consultant who has worked with Robert since she was in college. I think you will find her expertise in this industry invaluable.”

Natasha smiled and then extended her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you both.”

Ari was rendered speechless for a moment by her beauty. He swallowed hard, struggling to recover his voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well,” he said finally. Something intense flared through his entrancement.

Their eyes met and held.

Ari cleared his throat softly and then stepped out of the way. He needed to put some distance between them; he was looking for an escape from the seductive scent of her perfume.

They sat around a large custom-designed conference table. Ari made sure to sit two seats away from Natasha.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I ordered lunch,” Ira announced. “It should be here shortly.”

Ari glanced over at his father, who kept his face void of emotion.

Ira cleared his throat nervously.

Malcolm took a long sip of water before saying, “Mr. Goodman, I have to admit that I’m surprised by all that’s happened. I had no idea that Robert DePaul was my father.”

Ira nodded. “I can certainly understand how overwhelming this must be.”

“Why didn’t he leave his estate to his family?”

Ari could feel Natasha’s eyes studying him. He met her gaze, forcing her to look away.

“Robert had a private meeting with his family a few days before he died. He gave them a memorandum outlining his final wishes. I have been Robert’s attorney for almost thirty years,” Ira stated. “I knew him well enough to know that he had made up his mind, and this was the purpose for the meeting. He wanted his relatives to respect his decision in appointing you to replace him at the empire’s helm. Robert didn’t want knives drawn for his ten-billion-dollar empire.”

“Surely he left something for his family,” Malcolm said.

Ira nodded. “He did. He handed each of his nephews a two-million-dollar purse, and he set aside trusts for their children. All of the distributions are outlined in a copy of the memorandum before you. In addition to the rest of his estate, he also left a letter for you, which I believe will give you the answers you’re seeking. Robert was a very thorough man when it came to matters like these. He never left anything to chance.”

Malcolm took the letter but didn’t open it.

Ari knew that his father would wait until he was alone to read the note.

“Mr. Alexander, I can only imagine how overwhelmed you must feel right now,” Natasha said. “Since Robert’s death, the hospitality industry is wondering what’s going to happen with the hotels. The employees are concerned, as well. There are a lot of unanswered questions.”

Malcolm nodded in understanding.

She took a deep breath and released it. “I’m sure you’d like to take some time to adjust to all of your newfound wealth, however…”

“Do you have someone interested in the hotels?” Ari interjected, having a sense of where Natasha was taking the conversation.

She boldly met his gaze. “Although Mr. Alexander hasn’t asked my opinion, I do feel that it would be in his best interest to sell the hotels.”

“Why?” Ari asked. “Is it because you don’t think he can manage the chain? You may not know this, but my family has worked in the hospitality industry for over forty years.”

“I am well aware of the two hotels owned by your father. The DePaul Hotel & Spa Resorts are a chain of luxury resorts, and it takes—”

“Miss LeBlanc,” Ari said, cutting her off, “we are quite capable of taking over the properties. Like you, I’m sure Robert DePaul did his research before deciding to leave his estate to my father. I’m sure we all can agree that he was a very smart businessman.” Natasha LeBlanc was extremely beautiful, but he couldn’t excuse the condescending tone in her voice.

They were interrupted by a knock.

Franklin stood in the doorway with a cart laden with food. He carried plates to the table, two at a time. Moving about the room in a nonintrusive manner, he placed a plate in front of each of them. The stuffed chicken breasts smelled delicious. Ari prayed that his stomach wouldn’t protest too loudly.

Franklin left the room without making a sound.

“Mr. Alexander, it was not my intention to offend you,” Natasha said.

“Your suggestion that my father sell the properties left to him by his father wasn’t meant to be offensive?” Ari asked, leaning forward in his seat. “Are you kidding me?”

“Son, let it go,” Malcolm said quietly.

Ari shook his head. “Dad, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Miss LeBlanc took one look at us and decided that we weren’t good enough for the DePaul image.” He gave her a hard stare. “Admit it. You think we’re just a bunch of country bumpkins who don’t have a clue when it comes to running a chain of luxury hotels.”

Natasha’s lips parted in surprise. “I know all about your family business, Mr. Alexander.”

“Mr. Alexander is my father. Just call me Ari.”

“All right,” she responded calmly. “Ari, I know that you have some experience in the hospitality industry, but managing a chain of luxury spa resorts isn’t the same as what you’re used to doing.” Nervously, she moistened her dry lips. “It’s a bit more involved.”

“Yes, there are some notable differences,” Ari said. “But I assure you, I have worked with a hotel chain since I was sixteen, and I was very good at my job. Hotel chains ensure a level of consistency—the hotel operates on a larger scale, but if not managed properly, can feel a bit sterile and corporate. Our experience with a smaller hotel allows for a more personal touch. Robert DePaul successfully merged the two, by catering to each guest as if they were the only guest in the hotel.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “I see that you’ve done your homework.”

Ari met her gaze straight on. “I studied Robert DePaul’s business model in college. I am well acquainted with the organizational structure of the DePaul Group.”

He studied her face for a moment to see if her expression would change, but it remained the same.

Ira gestured toward the woman who had escorted them to the suite. “My assistant will get you a full accounting of Robert’s assets.”

“Thank you,” Malcolm responded.

Ari stole a peek at Natasha.

She was dressed to perfection in a cream-colored, sleeveless silk shirt and a teal-colored pencil skirt. The matching jacket hung on the back of her chair. Natasha was slender, but with an athletic build. She wore her shoulder-length hair in soft curls around her heart-shaped face.

Ari couldn’t deny that Natasha was very beautiful, but he didn’t like what she was trying to do to his father. Unconsciously, he played with the gold wedding band on his finger.

Ari Alexander resembled his father. They had the same muscular build, and both stood about five or six inches taller than Natasha’s five-foot-six-inch frame; Ari’s skin was the color of pure honey, while his father was more of a tawny color. They had both inherited those deep, penetrating gray eyes from Robert DePaul. Natasha’s gaze halted at the gleaming gold band on his left ring finger.

He’s married, Natasha thought with disappointment. She found herself wondering what type of woman he had married. Was she a stay-at-home wife, or did she work in some sort of professional capacity?

Why do I care?

Natasha shook all thoughts of Ari out of her mind and focused on her purpose. She was here to consult on the hotel properties, but also to help Harold DePaul keep what should rightfully belong to him. She just never expected to see such a handsome and virile man standing before her.

Her thoughts centered on Malcolm Alexander. He was not at all as she’d imagined. He didn’t seem impressed by all of the luxury surrounding him, and it didn’t seem to matter that he was the heir to billions. In fact, Malcolm didn’t appear to be thrilled at all about the fact that he was now a very wealthy man.

I’d be the happiest woman alive if I were in his shoes, Natasha thought to herself. She wasn’t all about money, but there were times when one desperately needed it for survival.

Her eyes traveled to Ari. Unlike his father, Natasha could tell he really wanted what would one day be his inheritance. He was champing at the bit to get his hands on the hotel properties.

Ari looked at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes slightly narrowed.

Natasha gave him a tiny smile and then quickly looked away, embarrassed that he’d caught her watching him.

She clamped her jaw tight and stared straight ahead. Why did he have to be so good-looking?

Natasha could feel him watching her, and she wondered what he was thinking. She heard Ira mention her name and turned her attention to him. “I’m sorry, could you repeat your question?”

The assistant quickly strolled across the carpet and stepped into the hallway. She returned a few minutes later to say, “Ira, you have an urgent call…”

“Why don’t we take a five-minute break?” the attorney suggested as he made his way to the door.

Ari stood up and walked out of the room. He took a seat in the living room and turned on the television.

Natasha was relieved. She needed some time to get herself together before she looked like a bumbling idiot.

When she returned, Ira walked over to her. “What’s going on with you? You okay?”

She stole a peek at Ari, who was walking into the conference room behind his father. “Nothing’s going on. Just didn’t think this meeting would turn so contentious.”

“Natasha, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you, so I’m going to offer a word of advice,” Ira said. “Make sure that you are choosing the right side in this battle. Robert knew exactly what he was doing when he left most of his estate to Malcolm Alexander. I’m surprised you would believe otherwise.”

Before she could respond, Ira walked over to where Malcolm was standing.

She took a deep breath and then released it slowly. Convincing Malcolm Alexander to sell wasn’t going to be an easy feat.

Ari sat with his jaw clenched. When he met her gaze, the line of his mouth tightened a fraction more. He rose to his feet and walked over to the counter to grab an apple.

He picked up a newspaper from the stack lying atop a cabinet. “Secret Son Inherits Robert DePaul’s Dynasty,” he read aloud. “I guess news travels fast in this town.”

“Put that down,” Malcolm said. “No matter how big or how small a city, people love to talk.”

“It says here that the outraged members of DePaul’s family demand a DNA test be performed to prove that you somehow defrauded Robert. Dad, this is crazy,” Ari uttered, shaking his head in disgust. “You’ve never met the man.”

A muscle flicked angrily in Malcolm’s jaw. “Son, they don’t care about that. When people think they have been mistreated, they jump to all sorts of wild conclusions. They are looking to blame someone—anyone. They can say whatever they feel, but it doesn’t make it true. This applies to Robert DePaul, as well. For all we know, he could’ve done all this to upset his family. I have no problem with taking a DNA test. I think we all want to know the truth.”

“Robert was very clear,” the attorney said as he entered the room. “He wanted to acknowledge you as his only ch—”

Malcolm cut him off by saying, “My mother never once mentioned this man. Frankly, I don’t know how or when she could’ve met him. This could be a case of mistaken identity.”

Ira pointed to the letter Malcolm was holding. “I believe the letter you have in your hand will give you the answers you need.”

“I want to have the DNA test,” Malcolm blurted. His tone brooked no argument.

“I think you’re making a wise decision, Mr. Alexander,” Natasha interjected.

“Dad, you don’t have to do this,” Ari argued. He gazed at Natasha as he said, “You don’t have to prove anything to these people.”

Malcolm nodded. “I know, but I want it, all the same, son. I’m not doing this for them as much as for me.”

Ari waited to see if his father would say more, but nothing came. The matter was settled.