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I should just put an end to the chit-chat and simply ask them myself, and that's exactly what I’m about to do. I can't be close to this slut a second longer.
"So, Dad, Maxwell, this has been great as always, but you mentioned Avalon yesterday, and now you have me quite curious. What is it that you need to talk to me about?"
I see my father and his friend exchanging a long look, and slowly I watch the grins stretching their wrinkly faces.
"Shall I tell the boy, Pierce?" Maxwell asks, turning slightly to the side to look at me and barely missing my hand, snatching Alina's and pushing it away from my thigh.
“Sure, pal, go ahead,” answers my father, grimacing slightly at Alina’s ridiculous antics.
Maryssa suddenly stands up. "Why don't we leave these guys to their business talk, Alina? I have a particular variety of Russian roses that I wanted to get your opinion on in the garden, and then we can go in the kitchen. You can keep me company while I ask Mrs. Percival to bring out the coffee," she blurts out so fast there’s no way Alina would have an opportunity to get a word in and before the unpleasant —and annoying— woman can do anything more than open her mouth, my stepmom is practically carrying her away.
I send her a grateful look and suppress a chuckle.
As far as I know, Alina knows about flowers as much as I know about being an astronaut —Maryssa is the one with the green thumb around, here. She loves flowers and plants and has the ability to produce the most beautifully colorful varieties of flower hybrids one could ever see, roses in particular—, but I still appreciate the respite that this brief absence will provide.
"So, Mr. Colton, you were saying?" I ask to get the man's attention again; his eyes were following the progress of the two women toward the garden.
He turns around and picks up his brandy snifter, making the rocks clink against its edges.
"First of all, Derek, I've told you a million times to cut the crap and call me Maxwell. This formality makes me feel too damn old, and, secondly, because no matter how much I deny it, Iam, in fact, old, I will be stepping down from my position as chairman of Avalon’s board, and I need someone to take my place. Usually, someone from amongst the other directors would be picked, but the decision rests primarily in my hands and in those of my counselors. I would have chosen your dad, but as you know, he is trying to cut down his responsibilities…"
I nod. My father has spent the last twenty years sitting on that board, aside from managing his firm and other business ventures; we thought it would be years before he would even consider relinquishing his responsibilities, seeing that he is only fifty-eight, but then two years ago he was diagnosed with a heart condition. He really had to start taking things easy to avoid major consequences then, and that meant reviewing his role in our firm, amongst other things. He is still the president, but I deal with most of the stressful stuff —it's the least I could do for him. He truly is the best father a guy could possibly ask for, especially in light of the fact that he had to raise me on his own and decided to postpone his own quest for happiness until I was out of the house.
In the last year or so, he has stepped out of the legal arena unless he has to follow big and longstanding clients of the firm —like Maxwell— and has had to diminish his workload relating to other businesses and Avalon as well.
I know there’s no way he will consider retiring from the foundation, like Maxwell is apparently about to do —he is notthatold, and our family has always been a part of it in some capacity or other. Still, I know that he couldn't possibly deal with being the chairman, which means I also know where this is going.
“So what are you saying is that you wish me to…” I let the sentence hang.
Maxwell’s nod is firm. “What it comes down to is that we don't think any of those directors would keep Avalon's standards up, Derek, let alone raise them. We need someone passionate about the cause. A man with business acumen and seriousness, but we also need young blood on the board. That's why, after consulting with your dad, we all decided to put your name forward. We will have an open poll on this tomorrow, but there shouldn’t be any difficulties. You have made quite a name for yourself, Son,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
I don't know if I really want this. I mean, they literally just sprung this on me, and a few hours —hell, days— to think about this would be nice, but there’s no way I can say no.
As if to prove the point that arguing my way out of this is not really an option —no matter how good a corporate lawyer I can be—, my father raises his glass of sparkling lemonade to me in a toast.
“Congratulation, Son. You’ll make me proud. I know you’ll be an excellent chairman.”
I sigh. “Thanks, I’ll do my best.”
Maxwell chuckles. "Of course, you will. That's why we picked you, Derek. The formal announcement will be this Saturday at the gala."
I nod and force a little smile.
He is talking about the 27th Avalon Fundraiser black-tie gala at the Museum of Fine Arts. It's the event of Boston social calendar. Everybody who is somebody in this city will be there.
This means they don’t expect much opposition to my nomination, which doesn't surprise me. Dad and Maxwell are highly respected within the board.
"Again, thank you, Mr. Colton, and thank you, Dad, for the trust you have in me.”
It's not exactly like I needed more stuff piled on my very full plate right now, but I'll make do. I always do, and I really will do my very best.
My family’s very old name and the tight connection between those who came before me and the Foundation would make it nearly impossible for me to refuse the honor without causing a major scandal that our firm doesn’t need and besides, thisisa great opportunity and one that will allow me the chance to do much good for the underprivileged and the less fortunate.
For once, I could do more than raise money —or save money— to make rich people even richer. Being chairman, I’ll be making a difference where it matters, and that is something I can truly be happy for. No matter how much the added responsibilities will mess up my life. A lot of my personal time will have to be sacrificed for this, but it’s not like I do too much with it outside of reading and hitting the gym. There's no one in my life.
At thirty-four, I am a chronic bachelor, and I'll probably be on that fucking list all the ladies keep raving about till the day I die. I don't see myself ever settling down, I don't have much time to even think about this stuff, and I certainly don't have the will. I was never one for committed relationships, I never felt that all-encompassing emotion that I suppose makes you feel like your next breath entirely depends on someone else’s actions and thoughts, and I've never felt like I was missing out that much, to be honest.
I’ve tried to date steadily in the past, but it wasn’t for me.
