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A Stallion Dream
A Stallion Dream
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A Stallion Dream

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Mark looked from one to the other, a confused expression on his face. “What am I missing?”

Matthew laughed, patting his son on the back. Before either could respond, John’s wife, Marah, called to them from the front porch. “Breakfast! Come eat, please!”

* * *

Collin slid back into the comfort of the family dynamics like he hadn’t been away at school for three years earning a bachelor’s degree in political science and another three earning a Juris Doctor. Summers when he hadn’t taken classes, he had interned. First, for a private marketing and communications firm, then a local senator at the Capitol building, and for the past two summers, with Mass Legal Aid Services. The experiences had helped him grow and now he was home.

As the oldest grandchild in the family, he’d always heard his name called first and often. He was pleasantly surprised to see that his cousins and brother were now old enough to step up, the adults no longer looking to him first to run and fetch things or to corral the younger kids.

He sat between his father and his uncle Mark, listening as his aunt Marah’s father told one of the bawdy jokes he was known for. The women were all shaking their heads and admonishing the old man to keep things G-rated for the many little ears hanging on to every word he was saying, while the youngsters hoped he would slip up and say something out of turn.

Looking around the table, Collin was in awe of how everyone had seemed to age, still themselves, but not. Grandpa Edward sat at the head of the table. He’d been gray before, but his head of silver hair had thinned considerably. Shortly after the death of Juanita, his second wife, he’d suffered a stroke. Collin had been in high school then, and although it had been a few years since the old man’s health had failed him, Grandpa Edward still struggled with his speech. He also walked with a limp, and one arm was locked tight to his side, permanently disabled. He was particularly cantankerous, too.

Marah fussed over him despite his constant bellowing to be left to his own devices. He loved to spend most of his time in the playroom on the second floor, watching the younger children play, and slipping five-dollar bills into their pockets when their parents weren’t looking. He and Collin had often fished together in the pond on the other side of the large estate and Collin hoped to be able to do that with the old man again.

John and Marah sat on either side of the patriarch, Marah fretting and John beaming with pride as he sat back, observing them all. Once or twice he and Collin exchanged a look and Collin knew he embodied every hope and dream his uncle had ever had for all the members of his family. John’s daughter, Gabrielle, and Mark’s daughter, Irene, sat between their fathers, the two teens still bickering about nothing. Despite their age difference—Irene being older by four years—they were the best of friends, and when they weren’t fighting, the two girls were huddled together, whispering and laughing about something.

Irene’s mother, his aunt Michelle, affectionately known as Mitch to family and friends, and his aunt Joanne, Luke’s wife, were refilling empty platters as they puttered between the kitchen and the oversize dining table. Collin’s mother and his aunt Phaedra, the only sister to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, and married to his mother’s oldest brother, Mason Boudreaux, were in the other room rounding up the kids around their own table.

Aunt Phaedra and Uncle Mason had three children: Cole, Addison and Fletcher Boudreaux. Jake was giving them orders, lording over the younger kids simply because he was older. Collin couldn’t help but think he’d taught him well. He turned his attention back to Grandpa Edward.

The old man could barely hold his exuberance as he shared his joke. “It was spring in the Old West. The cowboys rode the trails looking for cattle that had survived the winter. As one cowboy’s horse went around the narrow trail, it came upon a rattlesnake warming itself in the spring sunshine. The horse reared, and the cowboy drew his six-gun to shoot the snake. ‘Hold on there, partner,’ said the snake. ‘Don’t shoot! I’m an enchanted rattlesnake, and if you don’t shoot me, I’ll give you any three wishes you want.’

“The cowboy decided to take a chance. He knew he was safely out of the snake’s striking range. He said, ‘Okay, first, I’d like to have a face like Denzel, then I’d like a body like that wrestler they call the Rock, and finally, I’d like sexual equipment like this here horse I’m riding.’ The rattlesnake said, ‘All right, when you get back to the bunkhouse you’ll have all three wishes.’ The cowboy turned his horse around and galloped at full speed all the way to the bunkhouse. He dismounted and went straight inside to the mirror.

“Staring back at him in the mirror was the face of Denzel. He ripped the shirt off his back and revealed bulging, rippling muscles, just like the Rock. Really excited now, he tore down his jeans, looked at his crotch and shouted, ‘Oh, my God, I was riding the mare!’”

Collin burst out laughing with the older members of the family. Irene and Gabby exchanged a look.

“I don’t get it,” fifteen-year-old Gabby said, looking around the table. Her eyes were wide, and bewilderment swept over her face.

“You don’t need to get it,” John answered. He raised his eyebrows and tossed his wife a look.

Marah only shook her head in response.

Irene leaned to whisper in Gabrielle’s ear. Both girls suddenly burst out laughing.

Collin was suddenly reminded of his high school graduation, when the girls had been eight and twelve and had thought it amusing to announce at family breakfast that they’d seen him playing with his penis after bursting into his room unannounced. He’d been mortified with embarrassment. Despite his insistence that he’d only been adjusting himself in his boxer briefs as he dressed, the moment had become fodder for too many jokes among the family. He stole a glance at Luke, who was grinning at him.

He shook his head. “Don’t go there, Uncle Luke.”

“You must have read my mind.”

Matthew laughed, “I’m sure we all thought the same thing, but I agree with Collin. Time to let that go.”

“Time to change the subject,” Marah intoned. “Everyone needs to eat up. We need to get ready to leave for church and from the looks of things some of you need a little more God than others!” She narrowed her gaze on the girls, her head waving from side to side.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, then zeroed in on Collin. Everyone had been extolling praises on him, admonishing the younger crowd to be more like their big cousin. She wasn’t quite as impressed and had no qualms about saying so. Picking on Collin had been her and Irene’s favorite thing to do for as long as she could remember.

“Collin, can we ride to church with you? We want to ride in your new car.”

He gave her a look back, not easily swayed by her sweet smile and the doe-eyed gaze she was giving him. He had no doubt that Trouble One and Trouble Two had other plans up their sleeves that probably involved him driving them to the mall after Sunday service. Before he could respond, his uncle Mason bellowed from the other end of the table, saving him from what surely would have turned into a moment of discord, with him being the villain.

“Sorry, girls, but Collin is chauffeuring us boys to church this morning. He promised me, Jake, Fletcher and Cole a ride. You two will have to catch him next time.”

Collin shot his uncle a grateful look. He winked at his cousins, and the girls pouted profusely at having their plans usurped. “Sorry, girls,” he said as he reached for the platter of bacon and took a second helping.

“What about after church?” Irene asked, shifting forward as she batted her lashes at him.

“I’m going horseback riding. I haven’t been down to the stables since I got home. I need to check on my horse and I’m sure the stalls probably need mucking and the horses need to be brushed. Maybe you two could come and help me out?”

“Yuck!” both said in unison, their faces twisted with aversion.

“Let’s not,” Irene said with a shake of her head.

“And just say we did!” Gabrielle concluded as she finished her favorite cousin’s new favorite saying.

Breakfast was the best of everything Collin loved about his family. Laughter was abundant, advice was as generous as the food, and standing there in the shadows of the men he loved most, Collin knew that whatever worries he might have had, he had more than his fair share of support to help him get through. Home had never felt better.

Chapter 2 (#u982d8f8e-7b54-5b46-aa84-790bf12d6c98)

London Jacobs eyed her two best friends with a raised brow. The two women stood in her office, peeking through the closed blinds and out toward the conference room. They were giggling like grade-schoolers. Paula Graves and Felicia Tyson waved her inside, closing the door as she stepped over the threshold.

“What’s going on?” London asked as she moved to the executive’s chair made of leather, dropping her purse into the desk drawer and her leather attaché on the desktop.

Paula waved a hand in her direction. “Good morning! The new guy is here.”

“And he’s absolutely gorgeous!” Felicia exclaimed. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to work with him and stay focused.”

London laughed, “You two are unbelievable!” She moved to the glass and pulled the blinds open. Just as she did, she came face-to-face with the firm’s director of operations, who was standing on the other side of the glass. Perry Swann was headed toward the conference room. He came to an abrupt halt, his eyes shifting to stare at the three of them. He suddenly gestured for their attention, waving them to follow him.

“This can’t be good,” Felicia said. She shot London a look.

“It’s not even nine o’clock yet,” Paula muttered, her head waving.

London gave the man a nod and slight smile, then watched as he turned and disappeared into the meeting room. She focused back on her friends, her eyes rolling skyward. “I’m sure it’s fine. You two need to stop being so dramatic.”

“After the weekend I’ve had, I deserve to be dramatic,” Felicia said. “Gary came home and all he did was argue with the old people,” she said, referring to her brother. Her wayward sibling had been a boil on the family’s good name since his first arrest when he was sixteen. Their father was a state representative who’d focused his election on the social evils of addiction and crime. Representative Tyson had lifted his only son up as an example of his understanding of the plight facing the families in his district. London could only begin to imagine their turmoil with Gary’s current release for yet another petty crime. She nodded, reaching to give the young woman a hug.

The three women exhaled simultaneously, low gusts of air blowing past glossy lips. Their gazes shifted back and forth, and then they laughed.

London moved to the door and pulled it open. “Let’s go meet the new guy,” she said.

* * *

“Ladies, good morning,” Perry said as he greeted the trio with a stern stare. He met each of their gazes as he beckoned them into the room.

“Good morning, Perry,” London said, narrowing her gaze as she met his. “To what do we owe the honor this morning?”

Most of the staff was sitting around, sipping cups of coffee and eating doughnuts from Jarams Artisan Donuts. The shop was a north Dallas fixture that specialized in pretty confections. Three white baker’s boxes held fried rings of dough filled with an assortment of creams, drizzled with glazes and sprinkled with powdered sugar, nuts and candies. They scented the whole room with an abundance of sweet fragrance.

Perry gestured toward the other end of the space and the man standing there, shaking hands. “I figured since we were having a staff meeting and welcoming our new attorney, it wouldn’t hurt to kick off the week with a treat.”

London gave him a slight nod. Perry had only recently assumed responsibility for the law firm and was still finding his balance with the staff. He had a reputation for being uptight and a tad anal. He was a stickler for punctuality and usually frowned on them not using every minute of their time working. She couldn’t help wondering what was so special about the new guy that warranted the party-like welcome.

Perry seemed to read her mind. His voice dropped an octave as he leaned in to whisper, “His name is Collin Stallion. Heir to Stallion Enterprises and the infamous Stallion family fortune. His mother is also...”

“Judge Katrina Stallion. She serves the 232nd District Criminal Court. I’m familiar with her. She has a large presence at the Dallas Girls Club. She’s been mentoring there for years.” There was a hint of awe in London’s tone.

Perry nodded his head excitedly. “Yes! And the Stallion family have been great supporters of all our efforts. His father has volunteered his services here many times and John Stallion sits on the board.”

London barely gave the man a hint of a smile in response. There weren’t many in Dallas who didn’t know the Stallion name or reputation. Stallion Enterprises had been started by John Stallion, one of four brothers. It was a successful corporate empire built on commercial real estate and development, as well as a shipping company, numerous entertainment interests and a lengthy chain of hotels. The brothers—Matthew, Mark, Luke and John—had grown the endeavor into a multi-billion-dollar enterprise.

“Let me introduce you,” Perry started, just as his secretary called his name, gesturing frantically for his attention.

“Please, go,” London said. “I’ll introduce myself.”

As Perry hurried out of the room, London turned to eye the man who had most of the women, and a few of the men, fawning for his attention. Paula and Felicia had already shaken hands with him and both now sat at the table, doughnuts in hand as they whispered like two hens. She shook her head at them as Paula gestured in his direction, winking teasingly.

Collin Stallion was definitely as good-looking as both her friends had claimed. He was tall, easily standing over six feet. He was dressed in a silk suit that fitted him to perfection, the dark navy flattering his warm beige complexion. A white dress shirt, red paisley necktie and black patent-leather dress shoes completed the ensemble. The shoes were expensive and highly polished, and told London everything she needed to know about the man. His hair was dreadlocked, the light, sandy-brown strands falling just past his shoulders. He’d captured the length in a neat ponytail that hung down the center of his back.

Collin was suddenly staring directly at her. His eyes were a deep shade of amber with gold flecks that shimmered behind lengthy lashes. London heard herself gasp, a swift inhale of air that sounded as if she’d been punched square in the stomach. He was dazzling, emanating a glow of kindness that felt infectious. It had captivated everyone in the room and even London was finding it difficult to resist.

She snatched her gaze from his and took two deep breaths before shifting her eyes back to his. He was still staring, a bright smile filling his chiseled face. He was exquisite, and despite her every effort, he took her breath away. Needing a distraction, she turned her attention back to his shoes, which, she recognized, were designed by the contemporary shoemaker Maison Corthay. The crisply polished leather easily cost what she paid in rent for three months. She hated that she knew that. Her obsession with designer fashion was a guilty pleasure few were aware of. Nor did they know that most of her own designer-label possessions were previous years’ releases found at local thrift and consignment shops.

Everyone was familiar with the Stallion family’s reputation. Collin’s parents were at the top of their game in the legal profession. His uncles had built one of the largest black-owned corporations in the world, each of them making one of Forbes magazine’s rich lists annually. The family’s wealth was impressive and mind-boggling. Collin Stallion’s silver spoon came with gold medallions and diamond-encrusted embellishments. So, what was he really doing there? Her name being spoken pulled at her attention. She looked up with a start, then forced a smile to her face as she lifted her eyes to find Perry and Collin standing right in front of her. Her gaze met Collin’s and locked.

“London is one of our staff attorneys. She litigates postconviction cases here in the Dallas area. She’s been a top litigator for us for almost two years now,” Perry said.

He went on to complete the introduction. “London, this is Collin Stallion. Attorney Stallion was in Boston prior to passing the bar here in Texas. He’s bypassing an opportunity to practice corporate law to help us here with our innocence initiative. You two will be working closely together.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stallion. Welcome aboard.”

“Please, call me Collin,” he said as his palm slid gently against hers.

London was surprised to discover his hands weren’t as soft and pasty as she had expected. His skin was slightly calloused, his fingers were strong, and his palm was surprisingly hot. A wave of heat surged in her like a firestorm. London was taken aback by the magnitude of it and practically snatched her hand from his.

The furl of his lips deepened, showcasing the prettiest set of snow-white teeth. “Thank you,” he said, his deep voice thick and rich like blackstrap molasses. “I look forward to our working together.”

London tossed him a nod of her head. “I think I’ll grab a doughnut,” she said as she stepped back, Perry already pulling another attorney forward to make an introduction.

A doughnut? Did I really just say that? London shook her head as she eased over to the other side of the room. I should have kept looking at his damn shoes, she thought.

* * *

Both Paula and Felicia were grinning foolishly at her as she sat down.

“That looked like it went well,” Felicia said, her laughter teasing. “You didn’t trip on anything.”

“That glazed deer-in-headlights look you have isn’t pretty, though,” Paula said. “There’s a hint of desperation, just a tiny hint,” she added teasingly, gesturing with her thumb and forefinger.

“Neither of you is funny,” London said, a frown pulling the lines of her face downward. Her eyes rolled as she poked at a chocolate-iced doughnut Felicia pushed toward her.

“Actually, I think it went very well. He’s still staring at you,” Paula quipped.

“Staring at who?” London asked, her eyes widening.

Paula laughed, “At you.” She gestured with her head, throwing the slightest of nods in the man’s direction.

London tossed a quick glance over her shoulder. Collin was still staring and when he saw her looking, he smiled.

* * *

Collin gazed from his office toward Attorney Jacobs’s, hoping against all odds to catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman. London Jacobs had taken his breath away and it had truly been a struggle to contain his interest. She’d captured his attention the moment she’d entered the conference room. Despite her obvious efforts to mask her supermodel looks, she was stunning. She wore the barest hint of makeup, her face adorned with just a little eyeliner and rose-tinted lip gloss. She wore a charcoal-gray silk suit, the blazer closed with four buttons and belted around her waist. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. She was a wisp of a woman, petite in stature, with hints of curves in all the right places. She was the sweetest confection, with a mouth that begged to be kissed. Despite his best efforts at self-control, he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing London Jacobs’s delicate mouth or the dreamy look in her eyes when she’d looked at him.

There was a purity in her expression, and something very refreshing in her appraisal of him. She hadn’t seemed at all impressed, neither the reputation of his family name nor his looks swaying her attention. Usually women fell all over him, influenced by one, the other or both. Women his father and uncles had often told him to be wary of.

While there had been a few who had been excessively attentive to him, London had appeared genuinely disinterested until those moments they’d locked gazes and held on. And when they’d connected, it wasn’t what he saw but more about a feeling that singed the edges of his spirit as heat coursed up his spine. There’d been fire in the dark orbs of her eyes and it had ignited something deep in his core that was still simmering on a slow burn.

Perry suddenly stood in the doorway, gesturing for his attention, an index finger waving as if it was unhinged. “Collin, if I can grab you for minute, please.” He shook a manila file folder in the other hand.

“Certainly,” Collin said, rising from his seat.

He followed as Perry led the way to London’s office. Perry knocked before he pushed his way inside.

Collin paused at the entrance, and when she gestured with a polite smile he felt a quiver of something he couldn’t quite name billow through his midsection.

London greeted them both warmly. “Gentlemen, please, have a seat. How can I help you?”

Perry looked from her to him with a raised brow. “They’ve set a trial date for the Jerome James case. It’s been decided that Collin will sit second chair with you.”

* * *

Although his internships had given him a wealth of experience, Collin couldn’t help feeling like he might be out of his element. The boxes of case files that littered his office seemed to be growing exponentially as he shifted through the multitude of folders that detailed everything about Mr. Jerome James, a former community activist incarcerated for the murder of his wife. James had always maintained his innocence and had become somewhat of a legend in the community. Affording him a new trial had taken the innocence coalition eight years of one court motion after another to secure. Countless hours and the efforts of a large task force had laid the foundation for what would soon come. Collin blew a soft sigh, moving yet another folder of documents to his completed pile as he pulled one from the to-be-read pile. Leaning back in his seat, he made himself comfortable.

He’d been reading for a good hour when he looked up to find Attorney Jacobs staring at him. She stood in his doorway with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a curious furrow on her brow. Amusement pierced his spirit as he stared back. She hadn’t had much to say to him since he’d been assigned to work with her. For the last few weeks, the little conversation between them had been limited to polite chatter and her admonishments for him to update himself on the details of the case as she dropped yet another box of files onto his desk. That she was standing there, looking like she was interested in a real conversation, was clearly progress.

“Good morning,” he said, his eyes lifting with his bright smile.

“Good morning. Weren’t you in that same position when we all left you here last night?”

He chuckled, “I probably was. I need to make sure I’m up to speed, so I left late and came in early.”

“Interesting,” she said, the word coming on a low gust of air past red-tinted lips.

“Why is that interesting?”

She ignored his question as she glanced down to her wristwatch. “Mr. James was transferred to county jail yesterday. He’ll be held there until his trial is over. I’m headed over to talk to him about his court date. Would you like to join me?”