To Paris with Love: A Family Business Novel (The Family Business)

by Weber, Carl

  “Well, you don’t have to be on your own anymore.” He gave me one of those “sprung to the max” stares. Shit, I guess I did know how to put it down. “I can take care of you so you never have to worry about anything.”

  “What I want is to build your club up. Make it the reason people jump on planes and come to this city. I want them lined up desperate to get in: rich, famous, young, pretty, and every wanna-be across the globe begging. That’s what the fuck I’m interested in.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. I been out the closet for less than a week. You’ve had your time out there. I know you remember those days. Ain’t like you stayed with your first?”

  “High school.”

  “Let me guess. The high school football star?” I kidded him.

  “Impossible. I was the high school football star. My first was the chemistry teacher.”

  “You dirty bastard.”

  “What? Girls do it all the time.”

  “True.” I wasn’t into hearing about his past. It made me think of him with other people and that wasn’t making me feel special. I quickly changed the subject. “Don’t you think we need to get up and get moving? There’s a lot to do today. Gotta get a car to pick up the DJ, meet with the lighting crew and a couple of mixologists.”

  “You really are all work.” He smirked and raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Oh, I’m about my business but I don’t mind playing. Plus I have to find an apartment.”

  “Why? I have plenty of room. You can stay with me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I enjoy having you around and until you get acclimated it might be nice for both of us.”

  I looked at him, not sure what the hell to say. Homeboy’s crib was definitely palatial with views of the water, a pool, tennis court, full staff, and wings and things that went everywhere. I would have to give this some serious thought ’cause I certainly would be one comfortable and fly Negro up in this palace.

  “What you tryin’a do to a brother?” I laughed.

  “I’m trying to make sure you never want to leave.” He laughed. Dude had game and he had some fly shit but he didn’t know that I was a Duncan. I was born with a platinum card in my mouth and the knowledge about how to use it.

  Nadja

  21

  By the time Niles graced me with his presence I was in a rage. This was the way I’d been treated back at home by my father’s underlings, but here in the free world I expected to get the respect that I deserved. Had I been a man, there was no way he would have ignored my phone calls, texts, and e-mails. He’d even had the hotel block his messages so that his phone didn’t ring in his room. I didn’t know what he was up to, although I did have an idea. But this was work and the one rule in my business was to handle your duties first, even if that meant getting the booty later. Men! I had to check in with my boss.

  “Papa.” I spoke quietly into the receiver, glancing around the restaurant to see if anyone was listening. It was past the normal breakfast rush so most of the crowd had thinned, but you could never be too cautious.

  “Are we on track to handle that last bit of business?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I assured him.

  “This is a slippery situation so have our guy use extra precautions.”

  “He went in yesterday to make sure there would be nothing holding up the finalization.”

  “Good. And you, daughter?”

  I could never hide my feelings from my father. He caught the slightest shift in my speech. I didn’t know how he did it but it was eerie. “I’m fine. There are just a lot of moving pieces.”

  “This is why you need a husband. You need a partner to comfort you when you’re working this hard.”

  “Papa, please!” I begged him. He said the one thing that hurt the most. Didn’t he know that I would give anything to have a husband, but I wouldn’t settle for just any man? I wanted him. The one I would never have.

  “Your mother said you refused to give any of the suitors she chose serious consideration. Nadja, you must think about your future.”

  “For now my future is work.” I looked up to see Niles strutting into the dining room, dressed in all black.

  “My client is here. I will phone you when the deal is done.” I hung up and glared at Niles.

  “What? I’m ready!” He threw up his hands.

  “I ordered you breakfast but it got so cold they took it back to the kitchen. I don’t appreciate being kept waiting and not being able to reach you,” I fumed.

  “Have I ever let you down?” Niles answered all smooth and confident.

  I wanted to punch him in the nose. Instead I opened my briefcase and handed him a file. He opened it and studied for a minute. “This for real?”

  “Yes, and it’s quite generous.”

  He turned back to the folder, going over the papers in more depth. He reached over and grabbed a piece of cold toast out of the basket.

  “Fine. I’ll order you breakfast.” It took awhile but eventually Niles managed to get on my good side. He had me laughing about the craziness on the yacht.

  “I can’t believe you ditched us. I wouldn’t have even gone if I knew I’d have to spend the night getting hit on by complete idiots.”

  “Nobody told you to wear bandages and call it a dress. What were those boys supposed to do, offer to buy you tickets to the ballet?” he joked.

  “You should have protected me. Technically you are my family’s head of security.”

  “Technically.” Niles winked at me. “So what trouble you getting into today?”

  “Work, work, and more work.” I sighed.

  “You gotta lighten up, Nadj.” He smushed my hair.

  “Hey, that took work. Not all of us can just roll out of bed. Speaking of bed, what happened to that little damsel in distress last night?”

  “Oh, she is hardly that. She’s around.”

  “Stay away from her. She’s got high maintenance written all over her. And she’s already distracted you.”

  He nodded his head noncommittally.

  “What’s that mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Hey, let’s focus!” He had the gall to reprimand me.

  By the time he left I knew he’d be ready for the job. As soon as he walked out the restaurant that chick he was with on the boat stepped in, searching for someone. I followed her out in time to see her watching Niles getting into a cab.

  “You missed him, whore,” I wanted to scream but she jumped onto a scooter in hot pursuit. Shit, this was not good. Whatever the fuck was going on with them it had to end. And quick.

  Paris

  22

  I rushed outside just in time to see Niles taking a cab. I could’ve let it go, but I still wanted to confront him about what happened on the yacht with the Villaragosa brothers. There seemed to be more to this guy and I wanted to find out what it was.

  As the taxi cab pulled out onto Calle de Eugenia Viñes and took off, I raced to the edge of the street behind it. A scooter rental service for beach cruising was open at the curb, and since I was rocking my Nike active wear, I decided why the hell not.

  “Pronto! Pronto!” I hissed to the elderly gentleman in the straw hat as I put on my sunglasses and waved a handful of Euros at him, cutting in front of about three people. He mumbled some instructions to me in Spanish, telling me when to return the Vespa and some other shit, but I’d paid him too much to bother listening. I gunned the throttle and scooted into traffic.

  Remembering my training from finishing school, I stayed back several car lengths. Wasn’t hard to do as I couldn’t get much speed out of the scooter anyway. Lucky for me, the cab I was tailing took it leisurely. At first, I thought they might be going to the airport, but that wasn’t the case. Niles’s cab instead left Valencia, travelling northwest into the countryside. After about forty minutes I was beginning to get bored with the slow-speed chase. I almost turned around and went back to the hotel, but I sucked it up and stuck it out
, telling myself I would be a fuckin’ tourist and at least enjoy the nice scenery. If Niles was leading me out here just to hook up with some local, I might kill both of them just on principle.

  It looked like Niles’s destination was a town called Lliria. At least that’s what the last road sign said before the cab slowed and pulled off beside a tiny cantina. Afraid of being noticed, I continued down the highway. I pulled over beside a bunch of other Vespas parked outside a sports bar just down the road.

  From my Vespa, I watched the cab pull out and continue past me. I started up my Vespa and resumed my chase. Around one of those sudden, winding curves, I was startled when I came upon the cab stopped in the road for no apparent reason. With no other traffic to distract him, Niles would probably recognize me, so I swiftly ran the scooter off the road and into the minor brush alongside. Turning off the motor, I laid it down and crouched low next to it.

  Peering from the tall grass, I watched Niles exit the cab with his briefcase then hustle out of sight up the hill and into the thick growth.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered to myself as the sputtering cab turned around and drove past my hidden position. Picking the scooter up, I got back on the road and began cautiously walking it toward where I last saw Niles.

  “Niiiiiiiles,” I sang, trying to be somewhat sexy. I knew my hair had to be kinda messed up from the humidity and sweat. “I know you saw me. And I don’t scare that easy, so you can come out now. Unless you’re naked, that is. Then I can come find you.”

  Niles didn’t reply. I came to the spot where I saw Niles enter the woods. There was a fresh, barely visible trail that went up the hill.

  “You better not jump out and scare me, boy,” I sang as I prepared to follow the trail, glad I wasn’t wearing anything expensive.

  Not a peep came from him.

  I removed my .380 from my purse and slowly moved up the trail. My senses were heightened. I was looking and listening for anything that might tip me off to Niles’s position. I wasn’t liking the feeling I was getting. Something just wasn’t right.

  Without warning a loud, echoing shot not of my doing rang out. From its sound, it had to be a high-powered rifle. Either this area had hunters or that shot had something to do with Niles. Going on pure instinct, I raised my gun, ready to fire back. I spun around 180 degrees, making sure nobody was running up on me. The sounds of an engine revving and racing further confused me. I was trying to pinpoint exactly where all of these sounds were coming from. Snapping branches and creaking metal brought my focus back to the hill in front of me. There was an old Jeep rumbling down the hill, coming dead at me. It was going to run me over and there was nothing my little cap gun could do about it. With no time to spare, I dove to the side and rolled clear just in time. Worse than almost killing me, Niles was behind the wheel.

  The barely controlled Jeep shot past me on its descent, taking a final bounce before landing on the highway, sparks flying from underneath it. It just missed crushing my scooter as Niles corrected and sped away back down the road.

  “Niles! Wait!” I yelled but he didn’t stop. Now I was intrigued. I had to find out what he was doing here and why he was in such a hurry.

  I was mashing on the throttle, picking up speed on my descent, almost to the main road when a trio of black Audi sedans streaked across my path.

  “Shiiiiiit!” I screamed out.

  Reacting as fast as I could, I hit the brakes and laid the scooter down, going into a slide. The black Audis had moved on, all heading in the same direction as Niles’s Jeep. There was no way I was going to catch up to Niles now. I hopped back on the scooter and made it to the main road. It was a T-shaped intersection, left or right my only options.

  I could’ve taken a left and returned to Valencia and given grandpa back his rental, but I don’t live life safe. I’m a Duncan. Besides, it would serve Orlando right to send me somewhere I could die. Daddy would kick his ass.

  I twisted the throttle and made that right. A mile down the road, when I figured I’d definitely lost them, I saw the Audis. Where the road split to the right, smoke poured from under the wrecked hood of one, the back of it smashed in also. Just beyond it rested another one flipped on its side. The skid marks in the street were Niles’s doing, no doubt. Seeing the shape of the skid marks I assessed that he must’ve faked taking the road to the right then slammed on his brakes, causing those two to wreck before jumping the curb and continuing on the road to the left. So Niles was not only a playboy hustler, but a stuntman.

  In the air, I could still smell the fresh rubber and antifreeze as I passed them: two bloodied men in black suits, staggered about, cursing and screaming; two more huddled around a cell phone, while another appeared dead.

  It wasn’t them that made me nervous, but the fact that there were three cars in pursuit and only two Audis accounted for. Somewhere ahead, the chase was still on.

  My gas was getting low as I headed deeper into the countryside, dodging the occasional broken taillight piece or shell casings. They must’ve been bustin’ serious caps, getting closer to him. But I hadn’t seen any blood or Niles’s body yet.

  Paris, don’t be stupid. Daddy didn’t raise you to be stupid. Just turn around before you get stranded out here . . . or worse, I thought. Guess I could be hardheaded to a fault because I pressed on.

  Off the tiny road, I spotted a trail in the gravel with two separate sets of fresh tire tracks. Would’ve smooth driven past if this thing had any speed. I turned off onto the trail, which led to a bunch of buildings that looked like an old settlement or something. It had long ago been deserted and now only held graffiti, memories, and maybe homeless people if this country had some. I figured somewhere in the middle of the buildings were Niles and whoever was in the Audi. The dust I began to kick up could be seen, so I decided to go in on foot. I removed my gun and knife from my purse and camouflaged the Vespa near the road as best I could.

  The closest building afforded me shelter once I got to it with no one trying to take off my head. I eased my way around its perimeter, trying to figure how best to conduct my search without somebody getting the drop on me. I had no idea of the numbers involved or even why they were after Niles. But I wasn’t stupid. Whatever he was involved in was bad. Most of those thoughts disappeared when a barrage of gunfire broke out a few buildings away. Fuck it. There was no time for being a stealth bitch today and, besides, guns blazing was probably more fun anyway. With a smile I rounded the corner and took off running, ready to unload on whomever I chose.

  I found the Audi with its engine running just beyond the third barely standing building. Its driver was still behind the wheel, but his ass wouldn’t be driving anyone anywhere. What was left of his head and skull looked to have been shot through the windshield of the A8 with . . . a high-powered rifle.

  I found all the remaining parties making nice inside the last building, a mixture of wood and clay. Stepping over another dead body in fine Italian loafers just outside its entrance, I snuck up behind a group of three that had Niles cornered, heckling him in Spanish as they eased from different spots and slowly approached the large tractor tire at the far end of the building he was using as a shield. Niles probably chose to make a stand here because anything beyond would be open space for at least a quarter mile. Sheer suicide with the odds and ammo against you no matter how fast you think you could run. Niles didn’t know it, but I was gonna do what I could to even those odds a little bit.

  Either go hard or go home, bitch, I thought as I unzipped my Nike jacket a bit and messed up my hair. And I was a loooong way from Jamaica Queens. Crazy. The one thing I remember most was having to pee when I stood up and went with something that didn’t make a bit of sense.

  Niles

  23

  “Help me! Help me! He . . . kidnapped me.”

  I looked up, shocked to see Paris enter screaming. She staggered wearily inside, announcing herself to the three men in loud English. Shit! I didn’t understand why she was here or who could have
kidnapped her. What have I done? I poked my head out and locked eyes with her for a minute. I motioned to the door, prodding her to run. None of the men had bothered to fire their weapons yet. I couldn’t risk her getting hurt. Then one of the guys approached her. She fainted straight to the ground. I knew if I took one step toward her to help they’d spray me with ammo. The guy bent over to help her and she jumped up, and shanked him with a single thrust beneath his rib cage. Her move shocked me so much I almost fell out and let myself be exposed.

  I could have sworn I saw her smile at him as she pulled out her blade. Another guy sprang to action. He shifted his gun away from me and aimed it straight at her. She picked up the corpse, using it as a shield; then she drove both of them as fast as possible toward the one wielding the shotgun. I kept the last guy distracted once I realized that she could handle herself. Fearing more for his safety than that of his friend, the gunman finally let off a shot. The force smashed into them, but the human shield took the brunt. Poor guy couldn’t get another round chambered before Paris and the dead guy fell atop him.

  He started screaming and yelling in Spanish. She scurried like a little rabbit over the dead body sandwiched between them and pointed a nice little Ruger. Placed the barrel against his right eye and let off a fatal trigger squeeze, bringing her total body count to two in under a minute. Boo-yah.

  I saw the third guy take aim. Just as he prepared to shoot I came flying through the air off the large tractor tire, wielding these two curved blades that look like fangs, one in each clenched fist. I couldn’t let anything happen to her. For a second, I just hovered there high above. I came down upon him with a thud and drove those things into the poor man’s chest from behind. As soon as they dug in, I yanked them upward and back, ripping and tearing all they’d dug into. The man screamed as if his soul were being removed—arms just a-flailing as all control to them was severed—and dropped to his knees. With simultaneous flicks of my wrists, I removed the blades from the sobbing, wounded man’s body, then brought them across his back in an X pattern before slashing each across the man’s exposed throat. The instant silence was more disturbing than the man’s screams. Amid the outward spray of blood, I removed the 9 mil from the newly departed’s hand just as the body fell over dead.