Unchained Hearts (Baxter Family Saga)

UNCHAINED HEARTS

Baxter Family Saga

Palessa

Book 1 in the Baxter Family Saga Series

Kyle Avery, CEO of Mama Avery Foods, has been summoned to a special meeting by a note from her late mother, Virgilia Avery. When she arrives, she meets the elusive mogul Newton “Cass” Baxter, CEO of Baxter Chemicals and learns of the nearly forty year history her mother shared with Cass, as well as the obstacles they’d been forced to endure. As Kyle struggles to understand their history, she’s forced to confront the man who loved and left her, Brandon Hall, VP of Baxter Chemicals and the adopted son of Cass Baxter. Kyle and Brandon unite in love, but separate in tragedy. They are forced to deal with the sad legacy of their parent’s lives as well as their own heartbreak. It’s up to them to finally break the chains which bind their hearts and find their own path to happiness.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © Pending Palessa

All rights reserved.

Published by Beau Coup Publishing 
http://beaucoupllc.com

As she sat in the car, she played with the letter. Her dead mother’s handwriting startled her, especially since it had been two years since she was killed in a car accident. It was like someone held her heart in a vise when she read it. There was no date. The tone was so cryptic. And then the second letter, the summons, announced that the car would pick her up on this date at this time.

Kyle Avery hated being summoned and had worked damn hard to avoid being put in that position...but her mother speaking to her from the grave was the exception. The car drove down the expressway and took the downtown exit. The smooth ride nearly lulled her to sleep as the world just blurred by. Passing the port of Miami, she saw where the latest cruise ship was about to set sail. Even over the sound of the engine, she could hear the horns and see people waving at each other. She’d always wanted to go on a cruise, but being the head of a growing company left little time for such luxuries. But isn’t that the point of being the boss and calling your own shots?

Kyle felt the car come smoothly to a stop at the light and then it made a swift left turn. She immediately sat up. This was the entrance to the ferry which shepherd the rich to their private islands. The car drove onto the platform and stopped. The driver said nothing, just obediently stared ahead with his hands at ten and two. The car was gently rocking as the ferry moved past Star Island, to another plot of land she’d never really seen before. It was well hidden, but she could tell it was well maintained and manicured. The ride was only twenty minutes, but it seemed so much quicker since she was racking her brain trying to figure out what was going on. 

They finally docked and the rope gate opened as the car slowly dipped and rolled forward. There were no hills in South Florida, but she could feel a distinct incline as the car slowed, traversed the plateau and made its way through the gates of what looked like a compound.

Straight ahead was a two story, coral colored house with a wide slanted roof and tinted windows. In the distance were other houses of similar design, each with its own distinctive color scheme which complemented this one. The tires gripped and skipped over the tiled driveway and came to a stop under a stone canopy. The driver got out of the car and came around to open her door. He extended his hand to help her out and she tentatively took it. When she’d stepped out of the car, he directed her to ornate cherry wood doors at the top of the wide steps. Kyle thanked him and made her way up. As she was about to ring the bell, the door opened. A portly woman with short brown hair greeted her with a friendly smile. Kyle exhaled slowly—this was the first breath she was really aware of since she left her apartment.

“I’m Maven. You must be Miss Avery.”

“Kyle,” she croaked, realizing how dry her mouth had become. Clearing her throat, she gave Maven a wan smile and walked in. “Nice to meet you.”

Kyle stepped over the threshold and heard the distinct echo of her shoes against marble floors. She looked around and was surprised at how homey the room was despite its size. There was a certain warmth which offset the coldness of the tile floors, and that was thanks in part to the beams of sunshine flowing from the skylight. The room was open, spacious, but had such an airy feel to it.

Kyle was startled when someone placed a hand on her elbow, presenting her with a bottle of water. She didn’t even remember hearing Maven leave.

“You sounded like you could use this.”

“Thanks,” she said. She got the feeling the woman was more than just the housekeeper. Kyle opened the bottle and took a few sips. 

“Maven, what’s going on? Why am I here?”

Again, the woman gave her the same smile that helped her breathe through the rising anxiety.

“I’ll let Mr. Baxter answer all of your questions. I’m just the help,” she responded with a wink.

“Mr. Baxter?”

Just then, she heard neat steps behind her and turned to see who they belonged to. She could hardly believe her eyes as Newton Cassius Baxter, CEO of Baxter Chemicals, walked up to her and extended his hand. She had heard about this rarely seen business titan. Kyle had seen his picture in the Business Journal and it was always the same one. The photo looked a bit younger than the man she saw now, but not by much. She knew him to be in his early sixties, but he looked much younger than that. He was tall and greeted her with a knowing smile. Mr. Baxter was a lot friendlier-looking than the man who was known to be a ballbreaker in the boardroom. She admired him, just a little, but when she looked at him, she sensed something else. Something more familiar; and it was irritating to not know or understand why.
 

Remembering her position, she stuck out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Baxter. I’m Kyle Avery.”

“Yes, I’m aware of you. The unseen CEO who took a small diner and turned it into
Mama Avery Foods
in less than five years. Impressive.”

“Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat which suddenly was sludgy again.
He indicated for her to follow him and she took a quick swig of water. She’d read so much about him, it was as if she knew him. He led her to the study and offered her a chair.

For more than a minute, he just studied her. She looked so much like her mother, he thought. At the thought of Virgilia, he had to catch his breath. This was going to be harder than he thought.

Kyle could feel him staring at her, but she could also see something else in his eyes. Hurt, maybe? She was beyond confused. What did the head of a chemical company want with a food company and what did it have to do with her mother? Had she signed something with him before she died? She owned the majority stock...was he going to make an offer? “Mr. Baxter, I’m curious about what’s going on here. I can’t understand what Baxter Chemicals would want with Mama Avery Foods.”

“This isn’t about business, Kyle,” he said in a smooth baritone. “And please, call me Cass.”

“Okay, Cass, I’ll bite. If not business, then what? Why did my mother leave this cryptic note?”

“That was your mother’s idea. She thought it would be better to just have everything out, today of all days. The only problem is, she thought she’d be here to tell you.”

Kyle sat back in her chair and looked at Cass. Speaking about her mother, he seemed so quiet, even vulnerable. Did she have an affair with him? From what she knew, he was unmarried, so technically it couldn’t have been an affair. But, what did that have to do with her? A thought came into her head. That was the only explanation. Her mother had a relationship with one of the most powerful business men in the world...so why not just tell her?

He breathed a heavy sigh.

“I’ve never been one for looking back and regretting, but about your mother, I find I have no choice but to feel a mountain of regret.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Your mother and I...we...” He cleared his throat.

Kyle leaned forward.

“I have loved your mother for most of my life.”

Kyle’s body went rigid. “What are you talking about? You’ve known my mother for…”

“Virgilia and I first met in the 1970’s. She came to work for my family.”

***

Lila & Cass

Virgilia Avery walked up to the door of the sprawling Gables mansion and knocked. Milly Banks opened the door and gave her that peculiar look. It was not uncommon in those days for a black woman to have something of her own, but there were always those, other women, who resented her for it. She saw the same derision in Milly Banks and she steeled herself.

Milly looked at Virgilia. The last thing she needed was some uppity maid thinking she could use the front door just like everyone else. These people were rich and some girl walking in here with some misplaced sense of entitlement would be a problem. “I thought you were told that you needed to come in through the back,” Milly said, with more than a touch of annoyance.

Virgilia narrowed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. “Jim Crow is over and the last time I checked, one door was as good as the next.”

Unlike many women of color, Virgilia was more than aware of the times and her choices. She was going to college, but needed the extra money to cover her books. Her scholarship had covered more than half of her tuition, but she had decided against taking a loan, which meant she’d have to swallow her pride and take any job which would make ends meet. 

Her major was architecture; she planned to open up her own firm and build some of the most amazing buildings people had ever seen. Her mother had died when she was just a girl and her father, well, he was more like a distant uncle who was there only in body…but then not even that much anymore.

She’d overheard him and her mother arguing when she was a little girl. He had questioned whether he was even her father. When her mother presented him with irrefutable facts, he laughed and called her nothing more than “a jacket.” At the time, she had no idea what that meant, but her mother ripped into him using language she’d never known existed. Her father was quieter then. He would actually come and try to visit her, but she just looked at him and ignored him. Virgilia learned to take care of herself, because she remembered her mother telling her that a young black girl wasn’t safe in this world. She learned to think quickly on her feet and found that not only was she good at math, but she was also pretty good at drawing. It started with shapes and then connecting shapes, then learning more about how certain shapes were more stable...the next thing she knew, she was drawing buildings, like houses and even her school.

Her father didn’t pay much attention to her and he kept out of her way as well. He didn’t even attend her high school graduation, so she learned to live in her own world, separate from his smoke filled haze. She got odd jobs, took some extra courses and was able to get a few merit scholarships to the local university. Even though she was more than qualified for a variety of scholarships and grants, she got the distinct impression that color mattered more to some than most. She was practical, and decided that if she was going to do this, it was going to be by her own hand. Her first semester was an adjustment, but she loved it on its own merits. Virgilia applied for several on-campus jobs, but no luck. She also tried to get internships, but when the time for interviews came, the positions were suddenly filled.

A friend of hers heard that this family in Coral Gables was looking for house help. She hated the idea of being a maid. It was so 1950’s. But she loved the idea of getting a college education more than she disliked the idea of doing domestic work. Virgilia applied and interviewed with Mrs. Joan Baxter. Mrs. Baxter was a woman of medium height and thin brown hair. The one word that came to Virgilia’s mind was stingy. During the interview, Mrs. Baxter looked at her resume and threw it on the desk. She commanded Virgilia to stand and she did so, biting her tongue to help her remember the objective.

Mrs. Baxter walked around the desk and looked Virgilia up and down. She was less than pleased with this woman’s proud shoulders and confident air. A black girl bringing a resume to an interview for a maid position was a bit too forward for her. These people don’t wear ambition well, she thought. But despite her disgust, she was in a pickle and couldn’t afford to be choosy. It seemed that word had gotten out about Joan the crone, as she was called.

Mrs. Baxter hired the girl and made a mental note to put her in her place as often as possible. Her first move was to offer Virgilia less money than what she advertised. “Your pay will be twenty dollars a week…”

“Excuse me,” Virgilia said, “but the advertisement said thirty-five a week.”

“That’s for someone with experience.” Mrs. Baxter smirked. “You don’t expect to make as much as someone like Milly, do you?”

Virgilia held her ground. “What I expect, Mrs. Baxter, is to be paid the amount specified in your advertisement.” That one hundred-forty dollars a month would put a dent in her tuition and leave her enough room to save for the next semester. Anything less wouldn’t be worth it… and that was when it hit her. She was familiar with the bait-and-switch routine being pulled regularly by people like Joan Baxter. They thought that since it was hard for blacks to get good work, there would be little argument. The difference was Virgilia wasn’t having it. This was 1975 and Civil Rights was the blunt instrument used to beat sense into many ignorant white folks, especially in the South. She could read, write, vote and she wasn’t going to be cheated out of anything by anyone. Looking at Mrs. Baxter who sat poised in her chair, her gaze triumphant, Virgilia grabbed her bag and the advertisement.

“Where are you going?” the older woman asked, startled by Virgilia’s actions.

“If that’s the case, then I’m sure the University would appreciate that your advertisement was mistaken.” Getting up, Virgilia turned to the door. “The last thing they would want is to be party to any false advertising on their property. Thank you for the interview, but I will not be accepting this position.”

Mrs. Baxter’s brow twitched as she saw the possibility of embarrassment for her husband, who had made it clear that she needed to get this housekeeper situation solved quickly.

“Wait,” she said, nearly screaming. Virgilia stopped and looked back. Mrs. Baxter’s lips were flattened together as she looked at the young woman. This girl was not like the others, she thought.

“Yes, Mrs. Baxter?” Virgilia added a little extra honey to her tone.

“I was mistaken.” Taking an audible deep breath and raising her haughty head high, Joan Baxter said, “I think thirty-five is in my budget.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

Virgilia set her hours and got the offer in writing. There was, however, no mention of entering through the back door as if she was some shameful blight on the pristine household and that’s where she and Milly never quite took tea. In other words, it was one subject they would never agree on.

***

She entered the house and Milly quickly ushered her to the kitchen. “You ever worked in a house before? You don’t look like no maid.”

“No,” Virgilia responded. “But, I’m a quick study.”

Milly harrumphed. Leave it to Mrs. Baxter to hire some newbie with not a lick of experience, she thought. Virgilia sensed Milly’s disgust and decided to pity her. Milly was a woman in her late forties and looked every bit of it. She obviously grew up believing one way and was unable to accept the changing times and mentalities. When you’ve been taught to have no hope of bettering yourself, it’s not hard to accept that as the Gospel, for not just one but all.