Fesia Davenport’s last day as a Los Angeles County employee fell on April 24, ending a six-month medical leave and closing out a tenure that cost taxpayers $2 million under circumstances that a court may yet revisit.
Davenport had been L.A. County’s chief executive officer, drawing an annual base salary of $630,813. She announced her resignation citing health concerns, writing in a LinkedIn post that she was stepping down “to focus on my health and wellness.” She also told CEO office staff in an email that she carries a predisposition for the same condition that killed her brother Raymond in 2018, and that two sisters faced the same diagnosis last year. One of those sisters now requires 24-hour care permanently, Davenport wrote.
That part of the story is genuinely private and painful. The $2 million settlement that preceded her exit isn’t.
The Board of Supervisors approved the payout in closed session, giving Davenport everything she asked for without negotiation. County officials labeled the agreement “confidential” and kept it out of public view, even though California law requires settlement agreements to be disclosed. LAist unearthed it last fall, forcing the county’s hand.
The legal theory behind the payout doesn’t hold up well to scrutiny. Davenport argued she was harmed by a voter-approved measure that converts her appointed CEO position into an elected office in December 2028, roughly two years after her employment contract was already set to expire in early 2027. County attorneys have insisted the payment served a legitimate public purpose. Critics, union leaders, and at least one judge aren’t persuaded.
A lawsuit filed in February by a county taxpayer argues the payout constitutes an illegal gift of public funds under the California Constitution. California courts have ruled that local government settlements become illegal gifts when they respond to claims with no real legal merit or when the payout exceeds what the agency’s actual exposure could justify. If a judge finds that’s what happened here, Davenport could be ordered to return the money.
It’s the union reaction that captures how badly the County misread the political temperature. Leaders of the two largest L.A. County employee unions said their members, including nurses, social workers, and sheriff’s deputies, were furious when word got out. The reason isn’t complicated: Davenport had told those same workers there wasn’t money for raises while she was privately negotiating a $2 million settlement for herself. That’s a hard thing to explain away, and the county hasn’t managed it.
The settlement agreement also includes a clause that’s worth noting for what it reveals about how the county wanted this handled. Davenport can’t make, or cause others to make, “negative statements or communications disparaging” the Board of Supervisors or other county officials. There are carve-outs for required legal testimony and for disclosures mandated by law, but the gag provision itself signals that supervisors anticipated this story would get ugly.
They were right. What started as a confidential arrangement between a departing executive and a sympathetic board has turned into a test of whether California’s constitutional bar on gift-of-public-funds extends to settlement payouts that critics say were designed more to protect a political relationship than to resolve genuine legal exposure. The Fair Political Practices Commission has not been publicly identified as a party to any investigation as of now, but the lawsuit in February keeps the $2 million figure in active litigation.
Davenport’s base salary of $630,813 placed her among the highest-paid county officials in California. Her brother Raymond’s death in 2018 and her sisters’ illnesses shaped her decision to resign, by her own account. None of that context changes the math: the Board approved a $2 million payment without negotiation, hid it from the public as long as they could, and is now watching a court decide whether that money has to come back.
April 24 came and went. The lawsuit didn’t.