the profile of documentation to Luke. Leaning back in the cushioned executive’s chair, John clasped his hands together in his lap. He nodded his head in Luke’s direction, and the young man’s eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and rising excitement as his older brother began to speak.
“Luke, you’ve been doing an excellent job for us. Your work has been truly impressive. We were thrilled with the results you managed to attain with the union negotiations. Both sides have commended your actions. As well, the legal department had some good things to say about what you did on that last acquisition.”
Luke’s lips bent into a slight smile as his other siblings nodded their agreement.
John gestured in Mark and Matthew’s direction as he continued. “We’ve been discussing what’s next for you, and we all agree that you might be ready to handle your own division.”
Excitement pulled at Luke’s expression. “Might?” the young man questioned, looking from one sibling to the other.
“Time will tell,” John said, shrugging his broad shoulders.
A look of confusion washed over Luke’s expression. “So, what does that mean?”
John leaned forward, his clasped hands moving from his lap to the conference tabletop. “It means that you are now solely responsible for the West End rejuvenation project.”
Matthew nodded. “We will support whatever you want to do as long as you stay within the parameters dictated by the town council.”
Mark interjected. “And please, don’t irritate the mayor. We need him on our side.”
John continued. “The details of the budget and the town council’s criteria are all there. From start to finish you have exactly two years to get this project completed. Right now, you have eight weeks to pull your team together. I need you to give us your assessment of the property acquisitions, any revisions to the original proposal and budget and a detailed timeline. Any questions?”
“What’s the budget?”
“One hundred million dollars, and not a penny more. Do you think you can handle it?” John answered.
Luke nodded, grinning broadly. “I welcome the challenge.”
Matthew clasped his hands together on top of the table. “We hope so, baby brother. This one’s a big deal. This rejuvenation project will be a coup for the city of Dallas and Stallion Enterprises’ reputation. We’re putting a lot of trust in you. If you really want to impress us, come in twenty million dollars under budget without compromising the integrity of the project.”
Luke came to his feet, extending a large hand toward John. “You won’t be disappointed,” he said as he shook his brother’s hand, his broad smile warming his dark face. “Thank you for the trust.”
John nodded. “Just remember, if you need help, don’t be too proud to let someone know. The only stupid question is the one you don’t ask.”
Pure adrenaline fueled Luke Stallion’s ride from the corporate offices of Stallion Enterprises’ luxury high-rise to the deteriorating Oak Cliff neighborhood the family was intent on revitalizing. It was a typical inner-city, working-class neighborhood renowned for its booming atmosphere back in the 1950s and 60s. Time had painted a new but not improved façade over the landscape despite the efforts of many grassroots and church organizations working to bring the community back to its original glow. The Stallions were hoping to do their part to inject some much-needed energy back into the area.
Parking his Mercedes coupe on the street, the young man exited the vehicle, set the lock and alarm, deposited six quarters into the meter and set out on foot to explore the strained area.
The first lesson his brother John had taught them all was to learn every single detail of any venture they were pursuing. The more knowledge gained, the better, inevitably preparing them for the unexpected. Even before graduating from high school, Luke had been allowed to follow behind his brothers as they’d pursued their many business acquisitions. Luke vividly remembered trailing on John’s heels as his brother had inspected every one of the steel ships that would become the cornerstone of their shipping empire. Luke had just been fifteen years old, and at the age of twenty-four his big brother had been recognized as the youngest self-made billionaire CEO.
Luke recognized that he had some pretty big Texas boots to fill in order to reap half the success John had. The fact that Mark and Matthew had achieved just as much notoriety since joining the family business didn’t make the challenges ahead of him any easier. He welcomed the opportunity to prove himself worthy of his brothers’ trust and looked forward to using this project to garner some attention of his own. He sighed, pausing to study the empty storefronts and dilapidated buildings that landscaped the neighborhood.
His thoughts trailed back to the earlier banter between him and his siblings. He and Matthew joked good-naturedly about John and Mark marrying as quickly as they had. Both men had fallen head over heels in love before any of them had realized it. Although Luke professed to not being able to imagine himself falling in love and committing to any one woman, he had to admit that the idea had recently become especially appealing.
Luke liked the changes that had come over Mark and John. They were both more relaxed and easygoing since they’d gotten married. Both of them reeked of pure contentment, seemingly enjoying fabulously full relationships. Luke loved to witness the attention the wives lavished upon them—both Mark’s wife, Michelle, and Marah, John’s wife, committed wholeheartedly to the men in their lives. Luke secretly wished that for himself.
Being young and single had its moments, Luke mused, but he was hardly determined to keep it that way. For the moment he considered bachelorhood only a game of time and one that he played well, but he wasn’t interested in taking it to a championship. The carefree lifestyle and the many beautiful women that went along with it was one thing, but the emotional security and companionship John and Mark had attained definitely appeared more desirable.
Being a master of casual romance had begun to grow weary on his spirit, and Luke felt he was almost ready to just let it all go. His big brothers had taught him well, but they’d also shown him that moving on had its positives. As if to prove that thought, Luke couldn’t help but admire an Asian beauty who was peeking out of the door of a small variety store on the corner. He winked an easy eye and tilted his head in greeting as she tossed him a wide smile of snow-white teeth.
But relationships aside, at this point in his young life, what Luke wanted more than anything else was to prove himself capable of running his own division. In that moment, that was far more important than any romantic commitment could begin to be.
An hour later Luke had managed to circle the twenty blocks twice, stopping periodically to speak with the residents and remaining shopkeepers to ask their opinion about their neighborhood. Many had eyed him warily but were eventually taken in by his boyish good looks and charismatic demeanor. His warm personality was captivating, drawing people to him, and Luke worked that to his advantage, inciting conversation out of the more wary personalities.
One of the senior citizens had pointed him in the direction of the local community center, a makeshift facility housed in an abandoned warehouse off Arkansas Avenue. The building was home to the youth and senior centers, the food bank and a temporary shelter for families displaced from their homes. Although maintenance and upkeep of the building were funded through the city’s budget, there was barely enough money to keep the lights on. Infrequent donations from a few generous benefactors and volunteers helped to offset many of the expenses that would have closed the center’s doors and sent many back into the streets to fend for themselves.
Luke stood at the bottom of the steps of the facility peering up at the glass doors that beckoned him inside. The old man who’d guided him to the entrance pointed with his left index finger, his right hand clutching a brown paper bag as if it were filled with gold. Luke nodded his gratitude.
“Thanks,” he said, pressing a crisp twenty-dollar bill into the old man’s wrinkled hand. “I appreciate the help.”
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