The Family Business

by Pete, Eric

  “Listen, I love you, London. Now, get back inside with Mariah and lock the doors. That’s not the best of neighborhoods. I don’t want anything happening to you before we have a chance to talk.”

  Don’t ask me why, but I hung up with a smile—before someone frightened the hell out of me.

  “Miss—”

  I screamed, turning around to find a man standing between me and the back of my car, where my daughter was sitting, watching this whole thing. He looked dirty and disheveled, but I told myself that didn’t automatically make him a bad person.

  “Miss, everything okay?”

  “No,” I said, embarrassed by being rattled. “My tire. I had a blowout.”

  “That’s too bad,” he chirped.

  At that point, I was about to show him where the spare tire was, because I assumed he was about to offer assistance. Well, you know what they say about assuming things.

  “Guess I can’t drive it off, then,” he continued as he pulled a gun on me from under his hoodie. I gazed down its barrel.

  “Please. My daughter—”

  “Will be okay if you hurry up and hand over all yer shit!” he snarled, cutting me off.

  “Mommy?” Mariah called out from inside. Thank God the man’s back was turned to her, so she couldn’t see the gun.

  “Wait a minute, baby. The nice man is going to help us.” I looked at him and pleaded, “Please ... just leave us alone. You don’t want to do this.”

  “Who the fuck are you to know what I want and don’t want? Lady, I’m losin’ my patience. Now, give up your shit!”

  “Okay. Okay, here.” I was willing to give him everything, as long as Mariah and I could walk away from this alive. I let my purse slide off my shoulder into my hand, then tossed it to him.

  “What else you got? What about that jewelry and that watch? Don’t even think about holdin’ out on me.”

  I took off my wedding ring and watch and handed them to him. “That’s it.”

  “What you got in the car? I said I want it all,” he shouted.

  “Nothing. Just my daughter.”

  “Check again, or I’ll make her check.” He glanced in Mariah’s direction. Just the thought of him going near her was enough to make me take action. I opened the car door. Behind me, I could hear him riffling through my purse with his free hand. I knew he was distracted, so I began fishing beneath the driver’s seat for something he hadn’t bargained for.

  “Mmm ... you got a nice ass.”

  I dreaded that his eyes were on me again rather than on my purse. I reached around a little more frantically for what should have been easy to find. Then it hit me—my gun wasn’t there. It was in the glove compartment, locked away so Mariah wouldn’t find it. Damn, motherhood had made me sloppy, but I had to think of something. This guy was starting to act creepier than before. “Um, my glove compartment is locked. I’m gonna need the keys out of my purse.”

  “Nah, now that I think about it, that wheel and tire ain’t that bad. Why don’t you get in? We can drive around the corner ... talk. Maybe I’ll change it fer ya. Afterwards.” I jerked up when his hand touched my ass.

  “Look,” I said, turning to face him. “You really don’t want to do this. Check my wallet. There’s—”

  “I’m already gonna get the money, lady. What I want is between your legs. Now, get your ass in the car.”

  He glanced over at Mariah, and I made a decision right then and there. I was not going to let that man rape me, especially not in front of my child, so we were about to see who was stronger. I was about to try to wrestle that gun away from him.

  I took a deep breath, but before I could move, someone rushed up behind me and bowled the fiend over. He fell against the fender of my Mercedes, busting his mouth wide open and sending the snub-nosed revolver spilling onto the pavement, along with several rotted teeth.

  My sudden rescuer, a very handsome, dark-haired white man, delivered a knee to my attacker’s ribs as he tried to scamper to his feet. Leaving his gun, my personal effects, and the teeth that no longer mattered, he fled up the avenue with his busted mouth.

  “Get the fuck outta here!” my rescuer hollered, kicking at the open air in disgust.

  “Mommy!” Mariah screamed as she tried to undo her seat belt. I rushed to the backseat, opening the door to check on her.

  “Shhh, shhh. Hey, baby, it’s okay,” I said, delivering my best smile to calm her as I brushed her curls aside. “The man fell, and this gentleman tried to help him up.”

  “I thought he was tryin’ to hurt you.”

  “No, no, baby girl. Everything’s fine. This nice man is going to help us instead. That’s all.”

  Mariah looked at the new arrival, waving at him with a warm smile. He returned her smile and waved back. I was still trying to remove my heart from my throat as the adrenaline wore off.

  “Thank you,” I offered as he handed me back my purse.

  “Glad to help. I was across the street. I didn’t think anything was wrong until I saw him going through your purse. Didn’t know about the gun until I hit him. Whoa,” he said, looking down at the ground as he suddenly realized his mortality in this situation.

  “I didn’t know this city still had Good Samaritans. That was very brave of you.”

  “My mom would be glad to hear that, but it wasn’t nothin’. I don’t like to see women in trouble,” he said with a smile. He had this rough charm about him, and he was easy on the eyes too. “You still need your tire changed, right?”

  “I guess I do. London,” I offered, suddenly self-conscious about how this mom looked after a near-fatal encounter.

  “Anthony. But my friends call me Tony,” he replied. “You think we should call the police?”

  “For what? So we can be knee-deep in paperwork and waste the next five hours? I think he already got what he deserved.”

  “Suit yourself. Where’s your jack?” he said, bending over to get a better look at the tire. I went to the trunk. “Beautiful daughter you have there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She obviously gets it from her mom,” he added with a slight change in his voice. Was this white boy flirting with me?

  As I smiled, I wondered whether I should even tell Harris or the rest of my family about this. For now, I would clear my head of such things and enjoy the view as Tony rendered assistance—while my husband was across town, once again too busy for me.

  Orlando

  19

  I hadn’t been back to my apartment since that night with Ruby. Not that I hadn’t wanted to, but I’d been busting my ass day and night trying to get a handle on things and prove myself to the old man and my siblings. I’d completely forgotten about doing anything for myself. That in itself wasn’t necessarily a problem, except that I’d been thinking about Ruby almost every day. I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head, so with the distribution deal with Alejandro well in hand, I had called Remy and set something up to relieve my sexual tension.

  “We’ve been expecting your call,” Remy had told me through the phone receiver. “We haven’t heard from you in quite a while. You’re breaking routine. That’s not like you,” he noted. “I was afraid you might have gone to another service.”

  “No, no, I’m very happy with your service. I’ve just been very busy.”

  “Ah, yes, the new promotion at work. How is it going?”

  “It hasn’t completely begun yet. I’m still in training, but even that’s not easy.”

  “I see. Well, maybe we can make you feel better....” he’d said and then we proceeded to make arrangements.

  When I strolled into the condo, the aroma coming from the kitchen was teasing my nose, much like how, in the next hour or so, the cook would be teasing my dick. I know it might seem selfish of me to be out whoring around in my condo when my family’s business was in trouble, but nobody had put in more work than me this week. I was doing the best I could, and consequently, I hadn’t had a good night’s rest, eaten a decent mea
l, or screwed in more than two weeks, and I was bound and determined to kill three birds with one stone that night.

  I quickly tried to erase the self-serving thoughts from my mind. Pussy should never interfere with blood—although I’d be a lying bastard if I said a little pussy wouldn’t give me just the boost I needed right about now. After all, what’s more rejuvenating and energizing than a little pussy? Hell, a big pussy. And thanks to Maria and Remy, whose services I could always count on, that was just what was about to go down.

  “Dinner is served.”

  Just the words I needed to hear as I turned my attention to the antidote to cure my day’s woes. Seeing her standing there in nothing but stilettos and a black-and-white lacy apron would have made any man forget his troubles and get lost in the sheer anticipation of what was to come. But I knew what was to come. I’d been there before, to that place that washes all a man’s troubles away just long enough for him to recoup and prepare for the next day’s concerns.

  “I hope you like.” Her accent was so sexy. She licked her lips, batted her eyes, and beckoned with her index finger, luring me into the kitchen. Even though I’d been there before and almost knew what to expect, I followed.

  “Allow me to get your chair, Mr. Orlando,” she said, then proceeded to pull out my chair.

  I sat and gave the spread on the table the once-over. I’d eaten an identical meal before. I hated repeating meals almost as much as seeing the same girl twice. Had I done the right thing, letting Remy send me this girl, or should I have listened to my gut? The hell with your rule, my conscience had tried to tell me.

  Ten minutes into our dinner, it got to the point where it all seemed like déjà vu. I wasn’t even taking part in the conversation anymore. Just nodding.

  “Is everything okay?” The poor girl almost looked offended that I had only picked at my meal. “The rice not good? You like sweet and sour chicken, no?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know how to make jerk chicken, would you?” I looked up at the Asian beauty and then at the native cuisine that sat on the table. I meant to keep my laughter inside, but it seeped out. Now she wasn’t almost offended; she was offended. I knew this because even though I had absolutely no fucking idea what she was saying in her native tongue, I could tell she was cussing me out.

  Once I was able to contain my laughter, I knew I had to make nice with her. The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt her feelings. Still, I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t really her fault, I suppose, but all of a sudden everything seemed so redundant. I’d never been with this particular Asian girl before, but I’d been with plenty just like her. Plenty who looked like her, talked like her, even cooked that same damn meal like her. The meal was a dead giveaway that none of them really knew how to prepare their native cuisine. Sweet and sour chicken? Come on. Even I could pull off that entrée.

  “Look, I’m sorry ...” I searched my mind for her name.

  “Candy,” she replied when she saw me grasping at straws.

  I spared her feelings by suppressing my laugh this time. Candy—so typical. Remy had even sent me another “Candy” before. I was beginning to realize just how I’d been fooling myself, thinking that my second-date rule made any difference. It didn’t matter that I never saw the same girl twice. No matter how I looked at it, it was the same broad, different name. Or in Candy’s case, same name.

  Ruby was the exception. I’d never met any woman like her before. I had never even given one of Remy’s girls a second thought after our night together, but I’d given Ruby more than just a second thought. I’d given her a fraction of my mind, and in order to reclaim my full sanity, I knew exactly what I had to do.

  “Candy, you are a wonderful, beautiful young lady. And a hell of a cook, I’m sure.” I had to soften the blow, didn’t I? I had to place a soft pillow over her head before I pulled the trigger to blow her brains out, so to speak. “But this isn’t gonna work.”

  “Save it, asshole.” Her accent was gone. She stood up from the table in a huff. “I don’t need to hear the speech about how it’s not me, it’s you, and you don’t know if you can do this, blah, blah, blah.” She slammed her chair into the table. “And Maria said you were one of the good ones. Huh. You waste time is what you do.” Her accent was back—a little. “You still pay. Just know that,” was the last thing she said before she exited the kitchen to go change.

  “I’ll call Maria and let her know to send the car service for you,” I shot over my shoulder as she proceeded to curse me out.

  The escort service was one of the first numbers, after my family members’, that I’d programmed into speed dial when I got my new phone. I pulled it out now to make the call.

  “Orlando. How’s our favorite client?”

  “Remy, my man,” I replied. “It’s all good, but look, check this out. I’m going to need you to send the car for Candy a little earlier than scheduled.”

  “Oh?” He sounded disappointed, nervous even. “Is everything okay? Was something wrong with your girl?” I could hear him flipping pages in the background. “She wasn’t a repeat, was she? Damn it, I told Maria to always make sure you never get the same girl twice. Look, I’ll send you someone else. Just let me—”

  “No, listen, Remy. Everything is fine. Candy is fine. She wasn’t a repeat. You guys are on the J-O-B,” I explained. “But, Remy, if you don’t mind, you can send me someone else.”

  His voice was now a mixture of excitement and relief. “No problem. We have this half-African princess that does this thing with her—”

  “Look, Remy, I’m sure she’s the finest the motherland has to offer, but I kind of have a special request.”

  “Anything, anybody for you. Just name it.”

  I couldn’t believe I was about to say the words that eased out of my mouth. “Ruby. Send me Ruby.”

  There was crazy silence on the line, and it made me uncomfortable. Finally Remy said, “But you never see the—”

  I had to cut him off. I didn’t have an appetite for my own words. “Remy, man, when the driver comes for Candy, just make sure he drops off Ruby.”

  I thought everything was settled, until Remy informed me, “Ruby is no longer with us.”

  It took a few seconds for his words to register before I could ask, “What? Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry, Orlando, but you were Ruby’s first and last. She said this line of work didn’t suit her, after all.”

  I felt ... hell, I didn’t know how I felt, but it wasn’t good. “Remy, I have a craving for the Caribbean beauty by the name of Ruby. You get paid to cure my cravings. Need I search for a new chef?”

  “No, no, no! That won’t be necessary. I’m sure we have another island girl who will suit your needs just—”

  I was cutting Remy off for what was hopefully the last time. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, Remy. I want Ruby. Get me Ruby. Money is and never has been an issue.”

  There was a sigh from Remy. “I’ll do my best, Orlando.” He didn’t sound too convincing.

  “Do better than your best, Remy. Get Ruby here by tomorrow.” I ended the call, knowing that if Remy didn’t make this happen, I’d be cutting him off, all right—and hopefully finding Ruby on my own.

  LC

  20

  My wife walked into my office and sat down on the small sofa, smiling for what seemed like the first time in weeks. You could always tell just how the Duncan family was doing by her mood, and this day, well, this day was good all the way around. We’d gotten our first shipment of cars from Alejandro earlier that day, and my ’57 Roadster was due at our Long Island City warehouse sometime the next day.

  To top that off, Chippy and I were going to be receiving a lifetime appreciation award from First Jamaica Ministries for all the charity work she’d done for underprivileged children. I really didn’t want to take any of the credit, since all I did was write a check. She and London had done the work, but she insisted that I accept with her because we were a team.

  “Daddy, you
have a phone call on your private line,” Paris said from my office door.

  “Thanks, baby girl.” I reached for the phone.

  “Paris,” Chippy called, giving our daughter a disapproving look. This prompted me to hesitate before hitting the talk button to connect the call. “Don’t you know how to use the intercom?”

  “Yeah, Ma, I do,” Paris confessed, “but the view’s so nice at this end of the hall today, I decided to walk down and tell Daddy about his call.”

  Both Chippy and I were shaking our heads as Paris walked slowly back down the hall. We heard her stop at the next office, where Orlando was having a meeting with Miguel. He’d flown in from California the night before to supervise the first shipment of cars and to make sure the Roadster was delivered unharmed. It was pretty obvious that he was the view Paris was talking about. I just didn’t understand why my daughter kept putting herself out there like some common slut. She was by far the most beautiful of all my children and could have any man of her choosing if she decided to settle down.

  Frustrated, I hit the button, connecting the call.

  “LC Duncan,” I spoke into the phone.

  “Greetings, LC, my friend.” It was Alejandro. I would know his raspy voice and thick accent anywhere. “I call with great thanks for the payment, and with well wishes for our continued business. I also would thank you for the hospitality you have shown Miguel. He’s mentioned quite often what a wonderful time he has had in your city. In fact, it was his diligence that insured that the Roadster will be delivered tomorrow.”

  I had to smile. Miguel must have really wanted that Bentley I hinted at during his first trip to New York. That was a good thing, though. The more he was in tune to my needs and wants, the better. Now, if I could only keep him away from my daughter.

  “Glad to hear that, Alejandro. Even though things have been strained between us, I’m glad we’re able to do business again,” I stated in the spirit of the moment.

  “As am I, my friend. Let this be a new beginning. No longer competitors, but partners of a sort. I look forward to making much money with you, my friend.”