by Carl Weber
I chuckled, finishing off my drink. “She’s not feeling the H.E.A.T., cuz. Literally. Thinks it’s going to expose us to too much collateral damage and crumble the Duncan empire.”
“Yo, after what I saw in Miami, you don’t have to worry ’bout shit! Besides, what’s the difference between your regular operation and what you’re about to put in place?” he asked.
“Nothing, other than the fact that if we’re the manufacturers, we’re gonna make the lion’s share of the money. Her problem is the fact that I’m in charge. If the mighty Vegas was running this ship, she’d be all for it,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Trent gave me a dubious look and I cleaned up my statement. “Hey, I’m not trying to put Vegas down, believe me. I love my brother, and I understand he was meant to sit in this chair. Hell, sometimes I wish he was sitting in it now. But Vegas isn’t here, and I just wish she would—”
“Stop babying you and understand that.” He finished my sentence. “I get it, cuz. Believe me, I get it. You just want Aunt Chippy to cut you some slack.”
“That’s all I want.” I shook my head. “It’s like she doesn’t recognize all the years I’ve spent busting my ass for this family. All the years in the lab are finally paying off for me, and I intend to cash in for the whole family.”
“Hey, she’s your mother, man; she’s gonna worry. But trust me, she’ll come around. Sometimes old folks aren’t ready for the new shit. Once she sees that you’re not only handling your business but making crazy money for the family and you’re safe, she’ll be the one throwing you a party.” Trent raised his glass for another toast. “Meanwhile, stop worrying about that and concentrate on this Colombian dude Rodriguez.”
“Yeah, you right. You right.” I shook off the last of my concerns about my mother and held out my glass for a refill. Trent always had a way of putting me at ease.
“So, how do you wanna play this thing?” Trent asked.
“Same way as we did in Miami, except whatever you do, don’t speak to them or act like you understand Spanish.”
Trent gave me a confused look, because he spoke and read Spanish fluently. “Why? I thought you said my Spanish would be an asset to you.”
“It will. I want you to pay close attention to what they say. People have a tendency to speak openly to each other when they think we dumb American niggas can’t understand them.”
Trent smiled. “You know what, cousin? You’re a fucking genius, ’cause that shit is true.”
“Actually, I’m not,” I said. “Vegas is. That’s something he taught me before he went away.”
“Vegas. Now there’s a man I looked up to. How’s he doing anyway?” Trent’s voice revealed the true respect he had for my brother.
“Better than most, considering where he’s at. He’s got this fine-ass Dominican madam he’s been dating the past six months or so. She’s totally head over heels for him, never misses a visit, and I’m sure she’s trying to get pregnant by him.”
Trent laughed. “Leave it to Vegas to be getting pussy on the regular even in prison. I wanna be him when I grow up—minus the jail cell, that is.”
The limo pulled in front of a huge wooden gate with ten-foot stucco walls on each side. “What the fuck are they trying to keep in there?”
“The question is, what are they trying to keep out of there?” I asked as the gates opened slowly, revealing what looked like a nature park or zoo. I mean, they literally had zebras, water buffalo, and giraffes running around.
We drove along a palm tree–lined road, which led to an enormous Spanish mansion with the most spectacular tropical garden I’d ever seen.
As we stepped out of the limo, Trent said, “Yo, O, this shit makes your Pops’ crib look like a starter home.”
“Who you telling,” I replied in awe.
We were frisked by two guys in suits who were as big as sumo wrestlers. They looked at our bodyguards and said, “They stay out here with the car.”
Trent looked a little apprehensive, but I nodded my okay. This was customary when you met in someone’s home.
We were led inside the house, where each room was more spectacular than the next. The sumo wrestlers/guards seated us in some type of animal trophy room. There had to be at least a hundred stuffed animals and heads throughout the room, and at least a dozen rugs made from animal skins. Even the chairs we were sitting in were covered with animal hides.
“I feel like I’m in an episode of Wild Kingdom,” Trent said as he looked around the room. “Tell me that lion don’t look like he’s about to jump on our asses.”
I chastised him silently with a glare, and he shut up just as our host entered the room with three other men. I’d known Señor Juan Rodriguez, one of the biggest players in South America, since I was a boy. There was much respect between our families. Señor Rodriguez and Pop had done business since before I was born, and for quite a while, Vegas and Juan’s son Carlos had their hands in a large part of the marijuana trade that came out of Colombia into New York. Now it was my chance to prove that I was worthy to carry on the relationship.
“Señor Rodriguez, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Orlando, the pleasure is mine. You have grown into quite a man. Welcome to my home away from home.” He offered his hand and we shook. “I’m not sure if you remember him, but this is my son, Carlos.”
“Yes, I remember Carlos. He cheats at checkers.” We shared a laugh. With the ice broken, I turned to Trent and introduced him. “This is my cousin, Trent Duncan.”
We all shook hands and then took seats at a table nearby. We started out by engaging in some small talk. Carlos asked me something in Spanish, and I replied, “No Española.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh. I figured since Vegas speaks Spanish so fluently that you spoke it too.”
“No, me and Trent took French in school. If you knew how to speak Creole we’d be getting somewhere.”
“I understand,” he said as a quick glance passed between him and his father. “So let us get down to business in English,” he said, gesturing for me to begin my pitch.
“Gentlemen, this is something new we’re bringing to market. It’s had phenomenal response in Miami and New York. We call it H.E.A.T. We think it’s going to be bigger than crack was in the nineties.” I handed Carlos a sample. He looked at it briefly then passed it to Juan. Their expressions revealed nothing.
“What’s our cost?” Carlos asked.
“Nothing right now,” I answered. “We’re going to give you five hundred thousand in product as a gift and let you discover its value.”
Their expressions shifted, revealing genuine shock. I kept my face neutral, holding back the satisfaction I felt.
“You’re giving it to us?” Carlos stammered. He turned to his father and spoke something quickly in Spanish before he asked me, “For free?”
“Yes. Consider it a gift from the Duncans.” I moved the case to the center of the table. Carlos opened it and smiled before speaking to his father in Spanish again. The older Rodriguez replied to his son in their native tongue.
“What’s the catch?” Juan asked. “I’ve known LC for almost forty years. He’s a fair man, honest and good to do business with, but he does not give anything away for free.”
“My father is no longer in charge of our day to day operation. I am. This is my decision.” I paused for a second to let my words sink in. “Like yours, I am sure, our family has had to change the way we do things with the times. We are giving H.E.A.T. away to create a market for the drug. It is our belief that with the contacts you have within the cartels and throughout South America, you will come back with an order of five million dollars wholesale within two weeks. And that’s being conservative. H.E.A.T. is going to be the next big thing.”
He picked up the sample again. “You feel that strongly about this?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Excuse me a second.” He turned and started to speak to his son and the other two men in
Spanish.
I glanced at Trent. He was looking around the room at the animals, but I had no doubt that he was taking in every word of their conversation.
A few minutes later, they turned back toward me, each of them with smiles. “Orlando, at this moment I am very jealous of your father. I once thought that he and I were equals, but I know now that we are not.”
His words made me tense. “Señor Rodriguez, I’m not really sure what you mean by that,” I stated honestly.
“At one time I thought your father and I both had great sons who would go far. Now I see that he has two great sons, you and Vegas. I am very jealous of that.”
I had to suppress a sigh of relief. “I thank you for that compliment.”
“We thank you for the opportunity to be part of this new venture.” He reached across the table, and I shook his hand to finalize our deal. We all knew it was a win for them, but I knew it was an even bigger win for us.
“When you return to your villa in San Juan, you’ll find that we have sent you and your men a gift of good will. Please enjoy with our compliments,” he said.
“Thank you. We will.”
I thought we were finished with our meeting, until Carlos leaned over and whispered something that made the older Rodriguez frown. Juan leaned forward and said, “Orlando, there is one thing that may hinder us from doing business.”
Definitely not what I wanted to hear. “And what is that?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t reveal my tension.
“As you know, we do much of our business with the cartels in Mexico. They have a man in the western United States. I am sure you know Alejandro.”
Just the mention of his name made my blood boil. “Yes, we know him,” I replied.
“You should talk to him. Straighten out your families’ problems at all costs. Show him some good faith, as you’ve done with us. If you don’t, he will become a problem. That I can promise you.”
I sighed, nodding my head. “Señor Rodriguez, you’re right, but there is much bad blood between our two families. Much of it is not the fault of either of us, but the Italians. Can you set up a meeting with him for us?” I didn’t know how Pop and Junior would feel about a meeting with Alejandro at this point, but I had to do what I could to salvage this deal.
“Yes, if you’d like, I can do this.”
“I’d like that very much. It’s time the Duncans and Alejandro Zuniga settle their differences,” I stated confidently.
Señor Rodriguez smiled. “You are a very smart man.”
As Trent and I stepped out into the sunshine, I could tell he was dying to speak. I raised my hand, signaling him to save it for the car. After we pulled away from the curb, Trent exploded.
“Goddamn, you are the man! That was some Scarface shit right there! Cousin, I just want you to know that I am taking copious notes so that I can get down like that.” I gave him a look. “You know. If you ever need it.”
“I hear you. So what were they saying in Spanish?”
“Nothing really. At first they were kinda skeptical; then they got all excited. The old man thinks you’re the next coming of Jesus Christ himself. Oh, and the gifts they have waiting for us are some of the finest chicks in PR. They sent one for me and each of the bodyguards and two for you. The old man told his son to make sure he sent you the twins. Whoever these chicks are, they must be the bomb, because when he said the twins, the son and the two dudes in the back started grinning. I guess it pays to be the boss, huh?”
“Maybe, but I’m more concerned about this meeting with Alejandro than I am about getting laid.”
“I hear you. Big shoes, big responsibility. But if I were you, I’d just double up what you gave the Rodriguezes and call it a day. A wise man once told me nothing makes these motherfuckers come correct more than money in the form of free product. So stop worrying, wise man, and let’s go get some pussy.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You’re right. Let’s put aside business for a minute and enjoy ourselves. I’ve never been with twins before, and it’s been a long time since I had a threesome.” We leaned back, satisfied, both looking forward to the other kind of heat about to go down in our villa.
Ruby
12
I stood over little Vincent’s crib and watched him sleep for a few minutes before lifting him out of the bed. Cradling him in my arms, I pressed my nose against his and kissed his irresistible little lips as I stared at his face. It was amazing how much he resembled his father. That fucking Orlando had marked my child with not only his caramel complexion, but also his eyes, nose, and those kissable lips too. I loved my baby more than anything in the world. There wasn’t anything that I wouldn’t do to keep him safe; however, it was getting to the point that I didn’t want to look at my own child because he reminded me so much of his father.
Where is your daddy, Vincent? And what is he up to? I thought as I carried him down the hall.
It had been almost two weeks since my phone call to Orlando, and to be quite honest, I was confused and even a little disappointed in him. I’d expected him and his family to try to make a move on Randy’s Philadelphia operation by now, but they hadn’t done anything. Guess he wasn’t so concerned about seeing his child after all.
As I made my way down the hallway, I heard Vinnie’s booming voice and then the laughter of others. I found him in the dining room, impeccably dressed in a suit as usual, standing at the head of the table. He was talking to six of my brother’s best men, who were hanging on his every word like he was Julius Caesar or something.
“When I’m in charge shit is gonna be different. Everyone is gonna have a chance to get rich, not just Ra—” Vinnie stopped and turned, obviously alerted by the sudden concerned expression on the men’s faces. “Hey, babe. I was just telling the guys—”
“I heard you. You were just telling them what you’re going to do when you’re in charge,” I spit out, furious at his blatant disrespect. Yes, I was engaged to marry Vinnie and I planned on being a great wife to him, but my ultimate loyalty belonged to my brother. “You planning on being in charge, Vinnie? Because I thought Randy was in charge. You know Randy, the guy who is protecting your ass from the rest of the Italian mafia and the Duncans.”
I turned toward the men at the table, pointing my finger at each of them, my voice thick with rage. “My brother goes down to Philly for one day to check on things and you sit and plan his demise?”
Each man around the table raised a hand or shook his head to deny his involvement. One of them attempted to speak, but I cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear it! Tell it to my brother when he returns.” I could see the fear in their faces as they rose to their feet, walking out of the room as fast as they could.
“Ruby, sweetheart, you’re taking this all out of context.” Vinnie smiled down at me. “I’m not planning any coup or anything. I just need those men to respect me. We were talking about the future, the what-ifs in life. You have to remember your brother is a wanted man for murder and bail-jumping in this country. At some point he will have to go into hiding, and I’m going to be in charge.”
“Perhaps, but that day hasn’t come yet, so stop talking about it like it’s tomorrow.” Suddenly I was nervous about everything—nervous about the possibility of Randy going to jail, and nervous about what Vinnie’s true intentions might be. Vinnie must have sensed my suspicion, because he tried to laugh it off.
“Look, I didn’t mean shit by it. I was blowing off steam. You know how I feel about Randy. He’s like a brother to me, the only family I have left. But this sitting back being the brother-in-law is hard for me sometimes. The only reason I do it is because I get to be with you.” He wrapped his arms around me and Vincent, kissing my neck. “One more week,” he breathed into my ear. “One more week and we start working on making Vincent a brother. God, I can’t wait to make love to you.”
I pulled away slightly from his reach, not entirely comfortable with his obvious attempt to change the subject. “This isn’t a joke, Vinnie, and nei
ther are my feelings. I hope you’re not marrying me just for sex.”
“You mean as opposed to you marrying me because it’s good for business?” he said with an edge to his voice.
“I’m not marrying you because of that. Believe it or not, I actually have feelings for you.”
“Well, I have more than feelings for you, Ruby. I love you. To an Italian, love is a very serious thing. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do understand, but you can’t disrespect my brother. Not in front of me or his men. Do you understand that?”
“Of course I understand, but that’s not what I was doing. You got to believe me.” He kissed me, this time taking hold of my wrist and moving it until my hand was on his crotch.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you how much I need you. I know we can’t get down to the nitty-gritty until next week, but why don’t you put Vincent down for a nap and give your future husband a blow job?”
“Vincent just woke up from a nap,” I said, pulling my hand away. Even though we were engaged, I had yet to give my body to Vinnie, and I still didn’t feel ready. As much as I hated to admit it, our engagement had in fact started out as more business than love. Until I made my peace with that—until it felt more like a love connection than a business arrangement—sleeping with him would feel like I was whoring myself. He’d been surprisingly understanding about me making him wait, but as the weeks passed since the birth of my child, he was growing more anxious for the day when I would be able to have sex again.
“Why don’t we just wait until next week when the doctor gives me the okay? I promise you, it’ll be well worth it. I don’t want to start the sexual part of our relationship half-assed.” I smiled sweetly at him, but all I got back was a scowl.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He backed away from me angrily. “I’ve been sitting around here watching these whores your brother brings around here fuck and suck every dick in the building for the past six and a half months, and I haven’t touched one of them because I’m devoted to you. I don’t think it’s too much to ask my fiancée for a blow job. Do you?” I didn’t answer, and he exploded. “This is bullshit, Ruby, and you know it!”