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“I’m talking about her being the face of RC next year.”
“Not happening,” said Donovan, pulling the screen down in time to see Will rake his hand over his face.
“You are aware you’re the chief financial officer,” reminded Will. “I’m the CEO.”
“Do you want to test me, little bro?” Donovan asked his brother with a questioning brow.
“What I want is a fresh new face to reveal at midnight,” Will declared without backing down. “One that’s not in every music video or perhaps even your bed. Clearly I’m not getting that.”
Donovan sighed at his brother. “And why not?”
“Look, I’ve been courting Tracy’s agency for months now. I might be obligated to use her.”
The ad campaign was going to kick off Christmas Eve. The makeup for this line had cost millions to make vegan friendly. Donovan hadn’t known Will had considered Tracy as the new face, nor did he care. “Find someone else.”
“You find someone,” Will snapped back in annoyance.
Donovan gnashed his teeth together to keep from commenting. He tried to understand the pressure of his younger brother. They, Donovan and his siblings included, helped place him in the position as CEO of Ravens.
“Models are crawling all over this place,” said Marcus, the peacemaker. “We can come up with someone.”
Will leaned forward to the monitor, pressing his fists on the table. “No. See, this is the problem with you dating the models around here, Donovan. When you get tired of them, it’s our job to smooth things over. I’m usually scrambling to find a print ad for your throwaways, but not this time.”
“What?” Donovan asked, feeling a headache building. The girls outside his window began to squeal. Now he understood why the teacher had come over here with her tasty bribery basket. No way there’d be peace and quiet with them around.
“I am serious, Donovan,” Will said in a clipped tone. “You screwed this up, you find the perfect model.”
How had Tracy’s disrespectful infidelity become his fault? “I’m on vacation,” said Donovan with a yawn.
“Not my problem,” Will huffed. “If you don’t find someone by Christmas, I’m hiring Tracy.”
Donovan attempted to weigh his options but couldn’t...not with all the hollering. Footsteps echoed down the stairs, followed by parents telling the girls to be quiet and stop disturbing the upstairs guest. Too late.
“Miss B’s here!” a girl yelled.
British? Donovan wondered. He stepped away from the desk and strolled over to the open balcony. Downstairs he spotted her, British Carres. She stepped out of a sleek black Accord with gold trim. First came her long legs, encased in a pair of formfitting jeans, a white T-shirt with black writing—BBD, for Bell, Biv, DeVoe, if he wasn’t mistaken—knotted at her hip and accentuating her curves. British stood to her full height and with her left hand loosened the bun at the top of her head. Mounds of curls spilled down her neck and over her shoulders. Sunlight caught the natural gold highlights of her tresses.
“Do you hear me, Donovan?” Will yelled. “I am pulling rank on you.”
“He’s o
n vacation, Will,” said Marcus.
“Oh, and Donovan...” Will called out.
“What?” Donovan growled.
“Make sure the one you pick isn’t one you’ve slept with already.”
Donovan leaned against the open door of the balcony and folded his arms across his chest. He was pretty sure he’d found the perfect woman—whether for the ad or for him was yet to be determined.
* * *
British had finally arrived at Magnolia Palace on Monday morning ready for work and perhaps a little rest from constant family calls. With Thanksgiving this week, everyone in British’s Woodbury family wanted her to promise to stop by for dinner, as well as the historic Woodbury events after the festive holiday. British purposely left her cell phone in her car and closed the door just as it began ringing again.
Inside the foyer of the hotel, the four competing girls from STEM for GRITS made their way down the steps to greet British. The team voted on their strongest members to start off the competition. Lacey’s, Stephanie’s, Kathleen’s and Natasha’s homes had been damaged by the fire at the recreation center. Insurance had covered the roofs but their parents appreciated this time for their girls to be able to concentrate on coming up with ideas for the STEM project.
Thanks to Ramon—and with Kenzie’s urging—Southwood had recently resurrected the old post office, turning it into a new recreation center. Unfortunately, because of British’s insistence, two teams at Southwood High had booked the new recreation center, also owned by Ramon.
