Rochelle Alers - Summer Vows

A rare smile tilted the corners of Joshua’s firm mouth. “My two kids have given me six grandchildren, and still counting, hermano. How many do you have?”

David took another puff of his cigar. Even after so many years the teasing had continued. As the youngest of five, he’d been the last to marry and father children. His wife had given him four children, the last two twins, and the taunts about his children being marriage-phobic subsided when his older son and daughter married. It was only his twins who appeared reluctant to settle down. He knew both were too involved in growing the record company he’d established years ago.

“Don’t look so smug, Josh. I’m willing to bet when Jason and Ana marry they’ll both have a whole bunch of children between them.”

Timothy Cole-Thomas leaned forward, staring at his uncle. “Is there something you’re not telling us, David?”

Dimples creased David’s lean face when he smiled for the first time. He knew his twins better than anyone—and that included their mother. Both were comfortable divulging their closely guarded secrets about the business and their personal lives with him. Ana, as CEO of Serenity Records, had just signed a hot new recording artist that was rumored to become a crossover phenomenon. His daughter had confided to him that she now felt secure enough to shift her focus from business to her personal life. She’d recently closed on a condo and bought a new car—two things on her “to-do” list she’d neglected for years. For years she’d rented a studio apartment, while contracting with a car service to drive her around.

“Not really.”

Martin ran a hand over his cropped silver hair. “I think David should put his money where his mouth is.”

“Hear, hear!” chorused Joshua and Timothy.

Grinning, David shook his head. “You guys have got to be kidding.”

“Do we look like we’re kidding?” asked Joshua. “I agree with Martin. You should put up or shut up.”

David squinted through a cloud of gray smoke as he met the gazes of his brothers and nephew. “Well, gentlemen, I’m willing to wager a million dollars that my son or daughter will marry before Nicholas. What’s the matter? Is the wager a little too steep?” he asked when a groan and soft whistles echoed in the library.

“I don’t mind donating the million if it’s going to a worthy cause,” Timothy said.

Joshua cleared his throat. “Who are we betting on?”

“It has to be Jason and Ana,” Martin remarked.

“Don’t forget Nicholas and Joe, Jr.,” David reminded him.

Timothy Cole-Thomas crossed a leg over the opposite knee. “It can’t be Joe, because his father’s not here for the wager.

Martin nodded. “Timothy’s right. It will just be the four of us. I’m willing to put up a million, but, David, you’re going to have to ante up two mil because you have two kids to Timothy’s one.”

The seconds ticked as the three men stared at David. “No problem,” he said after a pregnant pause. “I’ll wager two million. Whoever wins will establish an endowment in his name at his alma mater. If none marry, then we’ll set up a foundation in the family name: ColeDiz.”

“What are the rules, Martin?” Joshua asked.

David frowned. “Why are you asking him? It’s my kids you guys are betting on.”

“Mine, too,” Timothy reminded him. “It has to be either Martin or Joshua to determine the rules if this wager is going to be impartial.”

“Timothy’s right,” Joshua concurred. “Let Martin establish the contest rules.”

David’s frown faded. “Okay.”

Martin stood up and walked over to an antique desk and picked up a pad, then handed a sheet of paper to each of the assembled. “Write down the names in the order in which you believe Nicholas, Jason and Ana will marry. Also indicate the name of your alma mater.

Joshua Kirkland jotted down his wager. “David, if you’re a little short on funds, I’ll spot you a million,” he teased.

“Yeah, right,” David drawled. As Samuel Cole’s son, purported to be the first black U.S. billionaire, money had never been a problem for anyone claiming Cole blood.

Martin completed his slip. “We’ll put the slips in an envelope, seal it and everyone can put their initial across the flap. Next year this time we’ll open them to find out the winner.” Pushing off his chair, he stood up and stubbed out his cigar and placed the envelope in a wall safe behind a framed print of James Baldwin. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m exhausted. Happy New Year,” he said, with a mock salute. “I’ll see everyone at brunch.”

One by one the men walked out of the library. David was the last one to leave. He wasn’t as concerned with his children marrying because he and Serena had raised them to be free spirits. His eldest son and daughter had married and had given him grandchildren. That was enough for him.

Unlike his brothers, Martin and Joshua, David was not competitive. Never was and never would be. Martin had always been the consummate businessman and Joshua the military career officer. He’d had a brief stint as CEO of ColeDiz International, Ltd., but for him it had always been music. First it had been his band Night Mood and then his independent recording company Serenity Records. The label’s focus had always been discovering new talent and it had continued until he retired and turned the day-to-day operation over to Jason and Ana.

The odds were in his favor, because he had two children with which to wager. And he predicted Ana would be the first to marry because he’d overheard her talking to her mother about her biological clock. At thirty-three she only had two more years before she would fall into the high-risk category. However, David wasn’t as certain when it came to his son or nephew.

Nicholas owned and operated a horse farm in Virginia and the last he’d heard was that the former naval officer wasn’t even remotely close to becoming involved with a woman. It was the same with Jason. His son hadn’t been a relationship in years, and seemed quite content living the life of a bachelor.

Snuffing out his cigar, David pushed to his feet and left the library. He usually didn’t make resolutions for the New Year, but this was one time he wanted to lord it over his brothers and nephew that there was nothing wrong with his unmarried twins. And if he did win the wager, then he would make certain to never let them forget it.

Chapter 1

Los Angeles, California

Camille Nelson felt a shiver of fear snake its way up her spine when a shadow fell across her desk. She was well aware of the company rule for not eating, reading anything not related to Slow Wyne Records, and other infractions like styling hair, repairing makeup or gum chewing while at her desk. Personal telephone calls were relegated to lunch hours, and only when not seated at the desk. She’d heard that an accounting clerk had been placed on probation for talking to her mother when she’d called to check on her sick preschooler during a staff meeting.

Her head popped up and she forced a smile when she saw her boss glaring down at her. “Good morning, Mr. Irvine.”

A frown marred the forehead of the CEO of Slow Wyne Records when he saw the magazine spread out on his executive assistant’s desk. Earlier that morning he’d read and reread every word of the Rolling Stone magazine article on Justin Glover and he had to admit the reporter had hit the mark when he declared the young singing sensation was the second coming of the late King of Pop Michael Jackson.

“Put that away and come with me,” he barked at Camille. “And bring your tools.” Basil Irvine strode toward the carved double doors leading to his office, expecting her to follow him like an obedient child.