As usual, the man had already secured RSVPs.Not surprisingly his half-brother, Cade, had declined.The distance from Corpus Christi was a challenge, even if he took a commuter flight.Erin, Nathan, Aunt Kathryn and his grandfather would all be there, though.
After eating and methodically cleaning the kitchen, he showered.This time, he didn’t hurry.Instead, he allowed the hot water to work out the kinks and soothe his muscles.
By the time he had downed a second cup of coffee and was dressed in his customary suit, dawn was meandering across the horizon, changing the downtown Houston skyline from black to dark gray.
Since there was no rain in the forecast and the humidity was relatively low for this time of year, he decided against driving or calling for his car.Instead, he walked to work.
The numerous office buildings still stood dark, devoid of the energy and drive that would pulse through them in less than an hour.The city would wake, fortunes would be made, lost, traded.At the end of the day, he intended to be counted among the victors.
The sun was barely cresting the horizon when he entered his office suite.
Thompson, his assistant, was already there, near the coffeepot.Most other employees wouldn’t show up for another thirty minutes, and Thompson would be at full speed by then.
“Coffee, Mr.Donovan?I’m willing to share.”
“You’re a good man, Thompson.Thank you.”The man had a first name, but he’d asked Connor not to use it.He respected that.Some addressed him as Mr.Thompson.Others called the man Badass Thompson.That worked, as well.He was former military, and with his massive shoulders, bald head that showcased an impressive scar and intimidating posture, he’d earned the reputation.
Truth was, Thompson didn’t share much about his time in the service, and Connor had never been inclined to push for details.
The man possessed amazing organizational skills.“You never want to look for your bullets or your weapon when you’re under fire,” Thompson had explained during his interview.He’d started at Donovan Worldwide a few years ago when the company had launched their military veterans outreach program.Thompson had been in the IT department and had repaired one of Connor’s notebook computers, which was no easy task.The machine had been a gift from Julien Bonds.Notoriously, Bonds’ equipment could only be fixed by people with genius technical ability, which Thompson possessed.
But the man hadn’t stopped there.He’d integrated several programs, made sense of scheduling, set reminders and generally made Connor’s work life much more streamlined.Though Thompson didn’t have the usual skills Connor looked for in an executive assistant, when an opening had occurred, he’d asked Thompson to apply for the position.What he hadn’t known, he’d figured out, even putting himself through school in the evenings to earn a business degree.
Connor considered the hire one of his best decisions.
With a nod, he accepted the mug.He took a slug of the strong brew then shook his head to clear it.“Damn.This could dissolve a spoon.”
“As I always say—”
“I know.I know.Only pussies and ladies add cream or sugar.”
“And you are neither, Mr.Donovan.”
“So I’m told.”He choked down a second swallow.
“Fortitude, sir.You’ll be wide awake after finishing it.”
“Or trembling badly enough that I’ll measure on the Richter scale.”Ignoring the man’s big grin, Connor nodded his thanks then continued through to his office, hoping to find a packet of sugar stashed somewhere.
His schedule lay neatly in the middle of the polished desk, and several pieces of paper were stacked next to it.When advertising campaigns required his signature for approval, he preferred to look at a printout rather than a computer image.There was something tactile about handling paper that appealed to him.
He placed his briefcase on the credenza and set down the cup of coffee, absently hoping the brew didn’t chew through the ceramic and into the wood beneath.
Thompson had already opened the blinds, and all that was left for Connor to do was to add a splash of fresh water to the bamboo plant that had been a gift from his Aunt Kathryn.She was on a kick about the impurity of the building’s air, and office by office, she was adding greenery.He had to admit he liked the potted plant, and he spent an inordinate amount of time relocating it so it had the best indirect sunlight and proper water.Over the past three months, it had grown four inches.
He grabbed the coffee then slid behind his desk to power up his computer and its screens.While he was waiting, he opened a drawer and riffled through pens and paper clips to finally find buried treasure, in the form of a sugar packet.
He ripped it open, poured in every granule then tried another sip.
It didn’t help.
Giving up, he wadded the packet into a tiny ball so that Thompson wouldn’t find it in the trash.Some knowledge was sacred.
He scanned the pages on his desk.He scribbled notes on a few, signed off on others.By the time the computer monitors were displaying the company’s logo, he was ready to tackle the onslaught of weekly reports.
At noon, he joined his attorney for lunch then arrived back at Donovan Worldwide in time for the family meeting.
He entered the smallest of the conference rooms to find Aunt Kathryn, Erin and Nathan already there.No one noticed him.Kathryn was gazing out of the window, no doubt ignoring her niece and nephew while daydreaming about her upcoming Panama Canal cruise.Erin and Nathan were seated at the table.If their body posture was anything to go by, they’d been there for a while.Erin was speaking animatedly, waving her hands, while Nathan was leaning forward, a frown on his face.
