by Tracy Brown
Nobles drank some more in silence. Several long moments passed this way, with both Frankie and Gillian sitting in anticipation before him. “Dusty’s missing. That’s the word on the street.” Nobles was eyeing Frankie.
“Baron didn’t have nothing to do with that.” Frankie could feel sweat forming on his brow. He hated lying to this man.
Nobles was no dummy. “I don’t believe that. And Dusty is major. He’s high profile. It’s not like nobody’s gonna notice he’s missing. Jojo is losing his mind, searching for his brother. What the fuck was y’all thinking?”
“Baron’s all right. That’s all that matters.” Frankie was walking a thin line between dry snitching and being honest with the man he loved like a father. The truth was, Baron was out of fucking control. He was doing too much, too fast, and he was beginning to feel invincible. It was working against him, and in turn it was working against the family. Baron had another dead body on his hands, and ultimately it would be Nobles who would have to make this whole thing go away. But Frankie didn’t want to get caught up in all this. All he wanted to do was make money and enjoy spending it.
“I want Gillian to take over.” Nobles laid his case out flatly. “I’m getting old, this disease is kicking my ass, and I know I can’t live forever.” He sipped his drink. “When I’m gone, I don’t want to have to worry that Baron fucked up everything I worked hard for. He’s gonna have to scale back, and I already know he’s not gonna like that. He’s cocky just like me, and when he realizes that Gillian wants in, he’s gonna fight that. I need you to help him listen to reason.”
“What?” Frankie sat forward in his seat. “How?”
“Make it happen,” Nobles said.
Frankie looked at Gillian. So that’s what this was about. Gillian was making a power move and using Frankie to accomplish it.
“I want to split everything three ways when I die.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Frankie said, waving his hand dismissively. “You still got a lot of living to do.”
“The reality of the situation is that I’m getting older. I’m not gonna live forever. And when I’m gone, I want each one of you to take an equal piece. Baron, Gillian, and you,” the old man stated.
Frankie felt both honored and guilty. “I don’t deserve that.”
“You deserve it the most.”
Frankie could feel Gillian’s gaze on the side of his face as she watched the exchange between two men she loved so much. She uncrossed her legs and sat up, growing animated. “I love my brother to death. You know that.”
Frankie nodded. “He loves you, too, Gillian. And you know he listens to you. So you could talk to him yourself and leave me out of it.” Gillian was the one person, besides Nobles himself, who could ever get through to Baron whenever he went over the edge.
“I know, Frankie. But he won’t listen to me when it comes to this. He thinks I’m not cut out for this life. But what it’s really about is that he doesn’t want to share the spotlight. You know that my brother respects you. If you make him see that it’s a good idea, maybe Baron will change his mind.”
“So what am I supposed to do to make him feel better about it?” Frankie asked, confused.
After several silent moments, Gillian shrugged. “Baron needs help, Frankie. He’s making big mistakes, and it’s gonna backfire. You know it’s true. I only told Daddy about the fight at the bar because I knew eventually somebody else would tell him. We owe it to Daddy to bring family business to him before the streets get to him first. That’s how I feel.” She looked at her father. She was telling the truth. She loved Baron, but her loyalty was to her father first and foremost.
She looked at Frankie again. “I don’t know what happened after the party,” she lied. “But Baron is putting us in the spotlight, and that’s the last thing we need. Even if he didn’t have nothing to do with Dusty’s disappearance, it looks bad. The last time anybody really saw him, he was beefing with Baron. That puts the focus on us whether we’re involved in it or not.”
Frankie was noticing several things. For one, Gillian was smarter than he gave her credit for. This was clearly a power move, designed to give her more control of the family business than she’d ever had while endearing her to her father more than ever. He also noticed that suddenly she was using the words “we” and “us” very liberally in relation to family business. And Nobles wasn’t correcting her. She had figured out a way to convince her father to let her get deeper in the game. Now she was trying to reel Frankie in as well.
“I taught Baron maybe a little too well.” The liquor was making Nobles introspective. “I taught him all about the game, taught him how to get money. But I didn’t teach him how to appreciate the power that comes with all of that. You have to have something or someone that you love more than the money. Baron doesn’t have that. He has no life outside of this one. All he knows is this family.”
Frankie shook his head. “So what’s the problem?” He held his hands up as if in surrender. “That’s what any organization wants in their leader. One hundred percent dedication. You have that in Baron.” He looked at Gillian with new eyes. No longer was she his platonic best friend with the phat ass, the one who was like family to him due to the fact that her father had practically raised Frankie. She was now a grown woman, ready to contend for her share of the family business. With a brother as ruthless and addicted to power as Baron was, that was brave, to say the very least. “Can you be one hundred percent dedicated to this shit, Gigi?”
Gillian looked at him, happy that he was still calling her by the nickname he alone had given her. Calling her Gigi was the first sign that Frankie still felt some endearment toward her. “Baron is just like Daddy. He likes to handle everything by himself. But I’ve been learning the ropes by watching my brother, my father, and you.” She flashed her pearly whites as she said this. “I know I can do it.” She didn’t verbalize it, but she knew that in order to get Baron to let her take over with no hard feelings, she needed Frankie’s help.
“I’m not thrilled about this, either.” Nobles spoke up.
“Like father, like son,” Gillian observed, smiling.
Nobles smiled back at his beloved daughter, who knew him so well. “I don’t want my baby girl to get hurt.” Nobles shrugged his shoulders. “But I worry about Baron, too. I don’t want him to wind up fucked up like I am.” He pointed to his wheelchair, which was leaning against the wall. He had been confined to it since being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis eight months prior. “All that work and stress, long hours and endless days catches up with you. And if that doesn’t do it, haters in the street will do you in. I always said that having one head of the family is stupid. When I got sent up north, we could have lost everything if Baron wasn’t ready to step into my shoes. Now that he’s in control, who will be ready to take his place when and if the time comes? If my son isn’t careful, he’s gonna be an easy mark for some young cat trying to make a name for himself. And where does that leave the rest of the family?”
Frankie nodded. He understood where Nobles was coming from. Still, he couldn’t see why he had to stick his nose into what amounted to family business. “Why do you need me to explain that to him? You could tell all that to Baron yourself.”
Gillian smirked and shook her head. Nobles took another sip of his drink before answering.
“Well, Frankie,” he said. “It’s not just about Baron. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want Baron to think I’m playing favorites. He has to think it’s his idea. But there’s another reason why I need you. I told Gillian that the only way I trust her getting deeper in this business is if you go in by her side. That way I’ll know that she’s being kept out of harm’s way.”
Frankie frowned again. “What are you talking about? Baron would look out for her. She’s his sister.”
Nobles drained his glass. “Baron looks out for Baron.” He set his glass down on the table and sat back. “Make no mistake about that.” Nobles sounded so sincere.
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nbsp; Frankie shook his head. “So, let me get this straight. You want me to convince Baron to step down and let Gillian take over. Plus you want me to walk her through that transition. Baron’s gonna flip the fuck out when he hears that. It sounds like a takeover, and I’m not trying to get caught up in all that.”
Gillian touched Frankie’s leg ever so briefly. “Please,” she said, softly. “I need to do this. We could lose everything unless we stop Baron from messing it all up. Daddy and I think you can make Baron see it your way.”
“My way?” Frankie asked. “Or yours?”
Gillian ignored the question, batting her long curly lashes instead. “You have a way of suggesting things to people and making them feel like the whole thing was their idea.”
Frankie laughed. “Do I really?”
Gillian smiled. “Yeah. You do. So just suggest it to him and make him think it was his idea from the get-go.”
Frankie laughed again. “You give me too much credit.”
Nobles shook his head. “No, she’s right.” He looked at Frankie. “You’re like a son to me, Frankie. You know that. You probably don’t realize how valuable to this family you really are.”
Frankie felt good hearing his father figure say such nice things about him. But he was still hesitant to get involved in Nobles family business. He shrugged.
“What is Baron supposed to do while Gillian’s taking over and I’m helping her take over? He’s supposed to sit around and watch from the sidelines, playing video games or some shit? And you think something that I can say will make him feel better about that? That don’t even sound logical.”
Their discussion was interrupted when Nobles’s wife, Mayra, breezed into the room. Wearing a long silk bathrobe cinched tightly at the waist, she excused herself. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said as she smiled at Frankie before turning her attention to her husband. “Baby, don’t take too long in here. Remember we have that party tonight and we don’t want to be late. You still have to decide which suit you’re wearing.”
Frankie had known the family since he was a young boy. He remembered meeting Mayra for the first time and thinking she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever see in his lifetime. Baron was eight years old when his father divorced his mother and married Gillian’s mother in the same year. Baron’s mother—Celia Parker-Nobles—was a well-educated woman from a proud lineage. She’d lowered herself, according to her family’s standards, by marrying Doug Nobles, who was in and out of prison as a result of his criminal activity. She took it understandably hard when her husband of twelve years left her and their son, and married his deceased best friend’s widow.
Mayra Leon was a beautiful Cuban woman with milky pale skin and long flowing dark hair. She had been married to Harvey Leon, one of Nobles’s dearest friends. When Harvey was murdered in a robbery, it wasn’t long before Nobles began an affair with her. That affair turned into love, and he left his wife alone with their son in their New Jersey estate and moved into a huge Westchester mansion with his new young bride.
Gillian was born a year later. Mayra went all out, buying the most expensive strollers and baby clothes, having the most elaborate christening party, decking out the nursery in their opulent home with designer trimmings. Celia, meanwhile, faded into the background and never complained or made waves. Nobles continued to pay all of her bills and expenses. In return, Celia never moved another man into her home to play father to his son. Celia was a dignified woman who saved her money for her son, invested wisely, and lived a life of quiet luxury. Gillian’s mother was the total opposite. She lived for the limelight, the glitz and glamour. Everyone warned Nobles that he would go broke trying to keep up with her. But he loved her anyway and let her do as she pleased. To this day, she spent like there was no end to her husband’s wealth, and Nobles didn’t utter a word. All he had ever cared about was that she made him happy. As long as she did that, she could have whatever she wanted. Meanwhile, Nobles saw to it that his children—his yin and his yang—grew up side by side.
Now Nobles nodded and smiled at his beautiful wife. She still made him weak after so many years. Mayra kept her body in excellent shape and wore the most expensive clothes to show it off. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Satisfied, Mayra smiled and winked at her husband. “Frankie, it’s good to see you,” she said. “Will you be there with Gillian tonight?”
Frankie looked caught off guard, and Gillian frowned since she had already told her mother that she wasn’t inviting Frankie to the party. It was moments like these that she wanted to slap her mother for starting shit all the time.
“Ma, I told you I’m going alone.” Gillian spoke through nearly clenched teeth. “Frankie’s busy.”
Frankie noticed the tension between the mother and daughter, so he decided not to point out the fact that he wasn’t busy at all that night. In fact, he had planned to go home and spend a rare night alone with his wife. But since there was a party going on, he would have much preferred to spend the evening there instead of watching Lifetime movies with Camille. Plus, he had some questions for Gillian. What was she trying to do? He wanted to know exactly what had prompted her to tell Nobles about her brother’s altercation with Dusty.
“I see.” Mayra smiled. “Well, next time then,” she said to Frankie before leaving to prepare for the evening’s big bash.
When she was gone, Frankie looked at Gillian and noticed that her posture had stiffened considerably since Mayra had mentioned the party. Gillian wasn’t about to spend a night being interrogated by Frankie. She knew that he would want answers about why she had filled her father in on the beef between Baron and Dusty. The truth was that it was clear in Gillian’s mind that her brother was headed to either prison or a cemetery. He was living dangerously. And she had learned too much from the men in her life to let her family’s hard work go up in smoke because of Baron’s foolishness. Gillian had felt for years that Frankie was her father’s true heir apparent. And she knew Frankie well enough to know that he felt ambushed by her and her father. Gillian wasn’t ready to face his many questions. Not tonight.
Nobles noticed the tension in the room as Gillian fiddled with the rings on her hands while Frankie stole glances at her every few moments. Nobles could see clearly what was happening between the two young people who sat across from him. They were falling in love, and doing everything they could to fight it. He thought the whole thing was very amusing. He certainly could not have chosen a better husband for his precious baby girl than Frankie. The problem was that Frankie was already married. And even though Nobles loved Frankie like a son, he would kill him if he ever broke his daughter’s heart.
He cleared his throat, ending the silence that had engulfed them. “Well, you two, I’m going to get myself together for tonight. Frankie, don’t forget what I said. Baron listens to you. Make it happen.”
Frankie nodded. “I’ll try.”
He retrieved Nobles’s wheelchair and assisted him into it. Greta appeared again and wheeled the old man to his bedroom while Gillian and Frankie were left standing alone in the expansive living room.
“So you know I’m not busy tonight, right?” Frankie asked, his hands tucked in his pockets.
Gillian was stuck. “Oh,” she said. “I just assumed that you’d be with Camille. You haven’t spent a night at home in weeks.” Gillian really didn’t give a damn whether Frankie spent time with Camille or not. She was really just trying to avoid his inevitable questions. “Besides, it’s just my aunt Serena’s birthday party. You’d probably be bored.”
Frankie nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.” He wondered why he resented the notion of being with his own wife as opposed to spending the evening in Gillian’s presence. He shook it off. “So you wanna tell me what all this was about today?”
She looked at him sheepishly. “Not now, Frankie. I gotta go get ready for this party.”
He knew she was just stalling, but he decided not to push it. After all, she hadn’t told her fat
her everything. So this conversation could wait one more day. Still, he wondered why she seemed to be pushing him toward the door faster than usual. A thought occurred to Frankie. Was Gillian expecting company?
“You’re going to the party with that Wall Street clown, ain’t you?” The look on his face was a mixture of suspicion and disappointment. Gillian hadn’t even admitted it yet, and already he knew her well enough to suspect that she was back together with Sasquatch, or whatever his name was.
Gillian had to suppress a smile. Frankie was clearly jealous of her relationship with the stockbroker. “He may come. Depends on whether or not he has to work late.”
Frankie nodded, secretly pissed that Gillian’s bourgeois boy toy would be with her that night. Knowing that he had no right to be jealous, he shrugged it off. “Call me later, after the party. I’ll be at home.”
Gillian nodded, following Frankie to the door. As he stepped back out into the chilly rain, Frankie put his hood on, then bid Gillian farewell and trotted off to his car parked in the driveway. She watched him jog away, missing him before he even reached his car. As he started it, backed up, and drove off, she continued to watch him—all the way down the long and winding driveway that led to their estate. Even as his car faded from sight, she found herself staring after it, the scent of him still lingering in the foyer he’d stood in only moments prior. Finally, Greta shuffled by, snapping Gillian out of her reverie, and she shut the door at last.
Fed Up
“This muthafucka thinks I’m playing!”
Misa threw her cell phone into her purse and shoved two twelve-packs of toilet tissue in her shopping cart. Her ex-husband, Louis, had just canceled on her for the third time in a row. That meant that she would have to tell her poor son, Shane, that once again, Daddy wasn’t coming for him. It also meant that, without a babysitter, she couldn’t go out tonight as she had planned. She seethed as she turned into the next aisle.