Basel Read online

  Basel

  The Brothers Ali

  Book 1

  By

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Celeste Granger

  Author of The All That & Moore Series

  Note from the Publisher: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead or references to locations, persons, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The characters, circumstances, and events are imaginative and not intended to reflect real events.

  Basel – The Brothers Ali Book 1

  Copyright 2020 Celeste Granger

  All Rights Reserved and Proprietary.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or format without written permission from Publisher. Send all requests via email to [email protected]

  Printed in the United States of America

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  Acknowledgment

  Reading family! Have I told you how much I appreciate you all lately? My first year as a romance writer has been fantastic, incredible, and hard as hell. But I have loved every minute of the late nights and early mornings, worrying over every word, trying to make sure that each story is different while still giving you what you need. It’s been exhilarating, and I cannot wait to share this next journey with you,

  The Brothers Ali!!

  Yaasss! That’s right. You met O’Shea Ali in the All That & Moore Series. Mmhmm, he’s married to Charity Moore. Well, O’Shea has brothers, four of them to be exact, and the first one you’re meeting is Basel. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for being there and thanks for reading.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to those who believe when love is destined, there’s nothing that can stop it.

  Chapter One

  It was another international flight. But Basel was used to it. As the Chief Financial Officer for his family’s company, Ali International, long flights had been a part of Basel’s routine since he graduated Suma Cum Laude from Morehouse College some ten years ago. Basel would never complain. Certainly, sitting in first class, being catered to, there was nothing to gripe about. He loved every minute of it, seeing new and exciting places, forging business alliances, and building the family legacy. That was the most essential part – family.

  “Mr. Ali, would you like me to refresh your drink?” The stewardess asked.

  “Oh, no,” I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Basel wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d never been, even. He, like his brothers and father, were members of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, and the Alphas threw mean parties with lots of booze and lots of women. Yet the after-dinner cognac Basel sipped as he reviewed the portfolio for the meeting he was traveling to, was enough for him. He never wanted to feel out of control or unclear in his thoughts. He couldn’t afford that. Too much was riding on his ability to execute and execute well. Besides, Basel had to think about more than himself. He was a representative of one of the most reputable international companies in the world. Everything he and his family did made headlines. To have an Ali man, in public, drunk, and uncultured, would be a familial insult. They could not afford bad press of any kind. Any negative attention could cost the family millions of dollars. Basel would never consciously place his family in that kind of light. Nah, he was good with the one cognac.

  As the waitress passed, Basel noticed something he hadn’t noticed before; there were a pair of long, shapely, mahogany legs, delicately crossed at the ankle, extended the length of the luxury seating just a few feet in front of him. The way first class was designed, there were no seats directly across from each other. The seats were positioned so that each person in first class, had privacy, could fully extend their seat into a sleeper with enough space for a drop-down table and other amenities not found in other sections of the plane. Basel noticed that her toenails were painted candy apple red. The striking color against the brown of her chocolate skin reminded him of chocolate dipped strawberries, one of his favorite sweet confections.

  His eyes dropped low enough to see the stilettos leaning against the footrest. Basel found himself smiling. He had heard his mother and her friends say a thousand times that you could tell a lot about a man by his shoes, what he wore on his feet, and how he took care of them. Basel felt like that same thing could be said about women. And the dark brown Christian Louboutin’s nearly matched her flesh, which means her shoes were not a distraction. She was in no way advertising that she could afford to wear expensive shoes, yet, if you watched her walk, you would see the red bottoms. And for those who knew, they understood.

  Basel did his best to return his attention to his own space and not to stare, although from where she sat, she couldn’t see him. But every now and then, over the course of the remainder of the flight, Basel found himself curious as to the woman those fine ass legs were attached to.

  After nearly twenty-four total hours in the air, the captain’s voice was heard over the loudspeaker.

  “This is your captain speaking. We should be arriving in Singapore in the next few minutes. The skies are clear, and we should have an uneventful landing. Thank you once again for flying Delta Airlines.”

  Basel stretched in his seat. By the time they landed, he would need to go immediately to his meeting with Serangoon Commerce & Trade. Reaching beside his seat, Basel picked up his Dopp kit, unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, being mindful not to bump his head on the overhead compartment. As he stepped out into the hallway, Basel ran his hand down the front of his slacks and adjusted his collar to make sure it was aligned before stepping forward. His stride was long, carrying his six-foot-two athletic frame. Her legs were in view, yet, Basel was mindful not to look down at her as he passed. He would have a chance to see her upon his return from the lavatory. It would look much more natural that way.

  He needed to freshen up, and after locking the door to the facility, Basel sat his bag down and opened it. After examining himself in the mirror, Basel splashed warm water on his face, brushed his teeth, and refreshed his cologne. Feeling better, he stepped out of the small space, closing the door behind him. As he neared the seating area, Basel scanned the space. Her shoes were no longer leaning against the footstool. She had changed positions, sitting with her gorgeous legs crossed at the knee. His eyes trailed the length of her, noting that her legs paled in comparison to the rest of her. She was strikingly beautiful with full, pouty red lips that mimicked the polish she wore, high cheekbones, and sultry eyes. Her natural tresses were cropped close, showing off the exotic lines of her face. Basel had to remind himself to move. It was impolite to stare. Yet, when she turned in his direction, and their eyes met ever so briefly, he didn’t care that staring was impolite. She offered a pleasant smile, and he offered one in return, before she returned her gaze to the airplane’s window. Only then did his feet move.

  Damn, Basel thought to himself as his long strides took him back to his seat. She was gorgeous.

  The seatbelt sign flashed red overhead as the airplane prepared for landing. Although Basel had been to Singapore once before, he found himself looking out of the window as the city began to come into view. Checking his watch, Basel converted the time difference in his head. Thankfully, he should arrive at his meeting on time. The plane safely landed, which Basel was grateful for. As he prepared his belongings to exit the plane, he checked his periphery to see if she was still there. She was.

  As soon as the all-clear was given to exit the plane, passengers began
moving into the aisle. Basel was tall enough to see over most of those in front of him. He kept his eye on her. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get a chance to speak to her. The crowd started moving, and although first class was allowed to exit before anyone else, there were still a number of people milling about. She was ahead of him and stayed that way through the tunnels leading from the plane into the main terminal. And then he lost sight of her. There were so many people milling about, she was quickly lost in the crowd.

  Although he had the inclination, Basel didn’t have the time to search the crowd to see if he could see her again. He would have to accept that she was the bright spot of his flight and keep it moving. There was a car waiting for him as he exited the busy terminal.

  “Mr. Ali,” the driver asked as Basel approached. There was a litany of chauffeured vehicles lining the front of the terminal, many of the drivers holding a sign of their prospective passengers written in their native tongue.

  “Yes, I’m Mr. Ali,” Basel replied as he stepped towards the back-passenger door.

  “Welcome to Singapore.”

  Chapter Two

  Singapore was a magnificent, picturesque country with an eclectic combination of cosmopolitan stylings of architecture mixed with more traditional Singhalese structures, including Malay vernacular houses with gardens woven seamlessly into the buildings, hybrid shophouses, and black and white bungalows. The Serangoon Building was a multi-story high rise with the external walls made entirely of glass. The building was intriguing as it reflected the mid-morning sky.

  The driver pulled up to the main entrance, where the valet was standing, waiting to accommodate Basel.

  “Welcome to Serangoon,” he said in near-perfect English.

  “Thank you,” Basel replied, stepping out of the chauffeured car.

  There was a doorman who greeted him as Basel entered the lobby and a receptionist who made herself readily available to direct Basel towards the meeting.

  “They’re expecting you, Mr. Ali,” she replied, standing up and rounding her desk. “Right this way.”

  The accouterments inside the Serangoon were just as visually pleasing as the external. The duo walked past several offices before the receptionists’ pace slowed.

  “Here you are, Mr. Ali,” she said, extending an upturned hand and offering a warm smile.

  “Thank you,” Basel chortled as he stepped over the threshold into the executive office space.

  “Mr. Ali.”

  Basel was greeted by the Ken Woo Son, Chief Executive Officer of Serangoon.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Son,” Basel replied, bowing first as Ken bowed and then shaking his extended hand. The two had corresponded via video conferencing several times in preparation for this very important meeting.

  “Glad to see you made it here safely,” Ken said. “And your flight?”

  Basel thought about the mystery woman with the fiery red lips.

  “It was good, really good,” he smiled.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?” Ken asked.

  “Bottled water, maybe?” Basel replied as he moved to the seat designated for him.

  “Any particular brand?”

  “Surprise me,” Basel answered.

  Ken nodded, acknowledging Basel’s response, and one of his assistants crossed the room, retrieving Basel’s drink.

  “We’ll be starting in just a few minutes. We have one more person that will be in attendance.”

  “No problem,” Basel replied, using the time to set his portfolio on the sleek glass conference table and to check his phone. Basel took a second to text his mother, letting her know that he made it safely. Although he was a grown man, his mother still worried about him when he was away, and still prayed for him anytime, he had to fly. His mom, Aziza, must have been waiting by the phone because her text back was quick.

  I’m so glad you made it safely. Please call me later when you get a chance. Love you, mom.

  As reassuring as it was for Aziza that her son was safe, it was equally as reassuring to Basel that she cared enough to be concerned.

  “Ah, our last guest has arrived,” Ken smiled, raising from his seat and crossing the room.

  “My apologies if I’ve kept you all waiting.”

  Naturally, Basel looked up to see who the other participant was. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized the familiar.

  “Oh, not at all,” Mr. Son answered. “Good to see you again, Ms. Masters. “Please, have a seat.”

  Basel watched as the sleek mahogany legs that drew his attention in the aircraft sauntered into the room. His eyes roamed the length of her, registering every curve and nuance of her figure, as she spoke to their host.

  Ms. Masters was her name - Ms., not Mrs.

  As Basel’s eyes traveled to her face, he paused, nearly spellbound by her unconventional beauty. Her chestnut brown skin was flawless, and Ms. Master’s high cheekbones and full pouty lips drew his unwavering attention. When Basel’s eyes met hers, Ms. Master’s eyes were dark and sultry and alluring. The straight bang that slightly covered her brow and the blunt cut of her hair that barely kissed her ears highlighted her gorgeous features. And then she smiled. Her smile reached her eyes, slightly wrinkling the corners. Basel’s eyes roved from her mouth to her eyes and back to her mouth. He was momentarily transfixed. Was there a look of familiarity in her eyes? Basel wondered, then, offered a smile of his own. The voice of their host broke the intensity of the moment.

  “Shall we get started,” Mr. Son suggested as Ms. Masters settled into her seat next to him.

  From the moment Ms. Masters entered the room, Basel found it difficult to concentrate. There were four other businesspeople around the conference table, but Basel only saw one. Mr. Son made cursory introductions of those who were there but offered no more information than surnames. Basel still didn’t know Ms. Masters’ first name.

  “Mr. Ali,” Mr. Son began, “I know your company is interested in expanding into the textile market. Was there any particular faction of textiles Ali International had in mind?”

  “Yes,” Basel replied. “We are most interested in the natural textiles, organically sourced and cruelty-free when it comes to animal-based products. We are also interested in forging alliances in developing nations where handcrafted work with textiles can be the foundation for enhancing the economic growth and development for marginalized populations.”

  “Admirable goals indeed,” Mr. Son commented. “Ms. Masters is a treasured contractor with our company and an expert in textiles, textile acquisition, and management. We should meet for cocktails this evening to discuss how we can partner in this process. Are you open to that Ms. Masters? Mr. Ali?”

  “Yes,” she trilled. “That would be fine.”

  Basel’s eyes registered on her as she spoke. “Of course,” he agreed.

  “Excellent,” Mr. Son replied. “I’ll have my secretary arrange the place and time. I’ll make sure you have the information by meetings end.

  Although the remainder of the meeting was productive, Basel’s real focus was on having an opportunity to get to know Ms. Masters.

  “If there is nothing else,” Mr. Son asked.

  No one around the table spoke, and all matters were settled.

  Basel gathered his things and prepared to leave. Lifting his tall frame from the chair, once again, he found himself looking in Ms. Masters’ direction, trying not to stare. She was elegant as she stood from her seat, the gentleman next to her, pulling it out for her. She thanked him, thanked Mr. Son, and made a graceful exit. Once again, Basel wanted the chance to speak to her, but as before, she seemed to have gotten away from him.

  As Basel made his exit, making sure to speak with Mr. Son before leaving, he stopped at the receptionist’s desk.

  “Mr. Ali, this is for you,” she smiled as she raked her eyes over him.

  “Thank you,” Basel said, accepting what he knew to be the invitation for cocktails.

  Capri by Fraser Changi City
was the four-star hotel Basel would be staying at for the duration of his stay in Singapore. Well known for its urban-inspired, intuitive, and high-tech services, Capri was the perfect match for a modern-day businessman. With its sleek, contemporary lines, monochromatic color palette, and a plethora of amenities, including butler service, the Capri was Basel’s go-to accommodations when he was there. It didn’t take Basel long to settle into his suite. Just as he was familiar with the Capri, the hotel’s staff were familiar with him and ensured that his accommodations were to his standards even before he arrived.

  As the television droned on in the background, Basel strolled to the walk-in closet. The butler service unpacked for him, hung his suits and shirts, and laid out his ties and belts. Basel had several business meetings to attend while in Singapore, and his wardrobe reflected that. But for tonight, he didn’t want to wear business attire. He wanted to be comfortable yet classically dressed in a style that reflected who he was.

  Basel avoided the suits and looked on a lower rack to the row of jeans that hung there. His eyes traveled across his choices. He settled on a pair of faded, wide-leg jeans. Above the rack, Basel selected a black shirt, with white and blue thin pinstripes. He had a black single-button jacket that would work perfectly for the look he was going for. Turning to the center table, Basel picked up his black Salvatore Ferragamo belt with silver buckle and made his way back to the bedroom.

  After getting dressed, Basel checked himself in the mirror. His eyes were still a bit red, but he hoped the discoloration would fade over time. Before stepping out of his suite, he applied his favorite Stefano Ricci Royal Eagle Gold cologne. Looking good and smelling better, Basel only hoped that the evening would be enough to lift his spirits.

  Chapter Three

  Bar Rouge Singapore was the location Mr. Son set up for their mid-evening rendezvous. Bar Rouge was considered Shanghai’s indisputable iconic destination for the glitterati and Singapore nightlife. Perched some 70 floors above the city, the bar offered unobstructed views of the city on all four sides with intimate spaces for private conversations and larger spaces for dancing. The goal of the club, designed with sophistication and ambiance was to aurally, auditorily, and visually stimulate each patron who visited. Basel could hear the music as the elevator door opened. Instantly, his body was awash in crimson light from the neon tubes that ran the length of the expansive club space.