by Tracy Brown
“She runs it, but Daddy was handling the financial aspect of everything. And it was going well. Mommy was happy, the restaurant was getting great reviews, a few celebrities stop through from time to time, all that. But you know that Daddy’s getting old.”
Frankie was the one who let out a sigh now. He hated to acknowledge the fact that Nobles was aging. Lately, he was forgetting things, and that had never been like him. The multiple sclerosis was definitely taking its toll on Nobles. “Yeah. And?”
“He’s too proud to tell his son that he can’t handle some things. I think he’s too proud to tell you, too. You know you’re like a son to him. I think it’s some man thing. Like a pride thing.” Gillian peeked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. She turned back to the mirror and began applying her smoky eye shadow. “Anyway, he called me into his study and told me that he wanted me to take over my mother’s books at Conga. You know that I was a business major at Columbia, so it was no big deal for me. But I noticed little errors here and there. Shit that Daddy would have normally never missed. I saw that he was starting to forget things and it was costing us. So it was good that I took over. Then he let it slip to Baron in a conversation that I was doing the books at the restaurant.”
“He forgot that Baron didn’t know?” Frankie was aware that Nobles’s memory had suffered as a result of the MS.
“Exactly. And once Baron found out, he didn’t make a big deal out of it. After all, it is my mother’s business and I’m her child. It’s natural that when Daddy was ready to pass on responsibility for it, that it would go to me. The thing is, right after he found out about that, he came to me for a loan.”
“A loan? Against the restaurant.” Frankie was shaking his head. That could only mean one thing. That Baron had exhausted all or most of his own cash and was desperate. That’s the only reason Frankie could imagine for Baron to go crawling to his sister for money.
“Exactly. Talking some bullshit about an investment. I saw right through it so I made him tell me the truth. He owes Jojo money.”
Frankie frowned. “Baron owes him money?” He thought about the beef between Baron and Dusty at the club recently. Frankie had been on the dance floor with Gillian, having a great time, when all of a sudden there was a fracas at the bar. Frankie wondered now if that argument had erupted as a result of the money Baron owed Dusty’s brother, Jojo. And if that was the case, Frankie no longer felt that Baron was right for murdering Dusty. This meant that the beef with Jojo would inevitably escalate to heights none of them wanted.
“Yes,” Gillian said. “His gambling is out of control, and he messed around and wound up owing Jojo a lot of paper. He’s my brother, so I gave it to him.” Gillian moved on to the other eye, switching her BlackBerry to her other hand.
“How much?” Frankie asked.
“Fifty-five grand.”
Frankie’s eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” She shook her head. “I gave it to him with the promise that he would get it back to me in thirty days. Well, I still haven’t gotten that money back, Frankie, and that was almost three months ago. I know he’s losing money elsewhere. He has to be. And I’m not gonna sit by and let him fuck up what our father built through so much blood, sweat, and tears.”
“I don’t understand,” Frankie said. “Baron doesn’t seem like he’s suffering. He’s still dealing with me on the same scale that he always was.” Baron was one of Frankie’s most consistent customers in his drug-distribution business. So far, he hadn’t scaled back on the quantity of his purchases, so this new revelation of Baron being in debt surprised Frankie. Baron was known for having the flashiest cars and the biggest chains, and for buying expensive things that no one else could afford. “He’s still buying out the bar when we go out. Shit don’t seem to be that bad for son. Maybe he’s just doing that shit to you because you’re his little sister. You know what I’m saying? He feels like he doesn’t have to pay you back because you’re lil sis.”
Gillian shook her head and frowned, hating to be dismissed as weak for any reason. “It’s not that, Frankie. I’m telling you that Baron is about to fuck it all up. He never paid Jojo back the money he owed him. And now he’s responsible for Dusty’s murder. This shit is gonna draw too much attention to us, Frankie. That’s why I need to take over. I need for Baron to back off and let us salvage whatever is still left of our business.”
“I hear you, Gigi.” Frankie lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He thought about all that Gillian had told him.
“Baron is on the verge of ruining everything. He’s out there making some real enemies for this family. We don’t need that right now. Not with Daddy in a wheelchair and me living alone uptown and Baron out in the middle of the woods in New Jersey by himself. This is not the way shit is supposed to be, with us looking over our shoulders for Jojo because nobody has the heart to tell Daddy that Baron has real beef out there. We need the goons at everybody’s houses right now. Baron should be making sure that happens. But he’s not. He’s out drinking and partying and carrying on like nothing is wrong. And I can’t call the shots. Not until my father puts the stamp of approval on me.” She paused as she pulled out her mascara. “But you already have Daddy’s stamp of approval.”
Frankie smirked. “So you’re using me.”
She smiled as well. “I knew you would say that.” She finished her makeup and began to take the rollers out of her hair. “I’m not using you, Frankie. But I do need you. I’m not ashamed to admit that.”
Frankie was momentarily breathless. “What do you need me for, Gigi?”
She placed the last roller on the dresser and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Oh, if only he knew. “I need you to help me ease the reins out of my brother’s hands. I need you to help me run this when that happens. And I need you to be patient with me while I’m learning.”
Frankie was nodding, although Gillian couldn’t see that through the phone. He wondered if there was more that she needed, more that she was leaving out.
“So will you help me?” she asked, as she slipped on her plum-colored BCBG minidress.
Frankie sat up and scratched his head. He rubbed his hand across his face and took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said. “You know I can’t say no to you.”
Gillian smiled, wishing that Frankie were going with her to tonight’s party after all. But then she figured it was for the best. Everything happened for a reason. She knew that the more time she spent with her “best friend” Frankie, the deeper she was falling for him. She slipped her feet into her A.B.S. heels and retrieved her diamonds from a velvet satchel in her purse, then put on her earrings and bracelet, opting not to wear the necklace that night. She didn’t want to steal the spotlight from her aunt. And, looking in the mirror, she realized that she was flawless without the necklace. She left it lying on her dresser and began to fill her purse with the usual contents. “Thanks, Frankie. I appreciate you so much.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Frankie laughed. “Why did you call me before the party instead of after, like I said? You didn’t want me to know what time you wrapped things up with ole boy?” Frankie couldn’t help prying.
Gillian laughed. “Is that why you told me to call you after the party? So you could check up on me and see what time I was getting home from my night out with Sadiq?”
Frankie was stuck for a minute. “Never answer a question with a question.”
Gillian laughed, and Frankie pictured her face. He loved the way she looked when she laughed. “I gotta go now. I don’t feel like hearing my mother’s mouth tonight about me being late.”
Frankie reluctantly agreed. “Have fun,” he said. “Call me af—”
“In the morning,” she finished his sentence for him, smiling. “Good night.” Gillian hung up the phone and Frankie chuckled to himself.
He walked to the bathroom, turned the shower back on, and undressed completely. As he climbed inside and let the steam engulf him, he couldn�
��t erase the image of Gillian’s radiant, smiling face from his memory.
Meanwhile, Gillian was breathing a sigh of relief. She was happy to know that Frankie had her back as she prepared to pry the family business out of the hands of her reckless brother. It gave her a sense of security to know that Frankie was within close reach at a time like this. Her boyfriend, Sadiq, never dabbled in her family business. And Gillian would never share the intricate details of her family with him. Sadiq represented everything that was legitimate in her world. He was straight-laced, successful, wealthy, and he was safe in a different way than Frankie was. Frankie represented a familiar safety. He knew all that there was to know about her life as heiress to a large criminal empire. There were things that didn’t need to be explained to him about how she felt and what she was dealing with day to day. Sadiq, on the other hand, was safe in the sense that she didn’t have to worry about cops and feds while she was with him. He was different from what she was accustomed to.
As she headed out the door, she smiled to herself, thinking about how lucky she was. She was surrounded by strong men who treated her like a princess. And she was about to take her place at the head of the family where she belonged—with Frankie right by her side.
Food for Thought
September 3, 2007
“Damn! This is how you throw a cookout!” Toya was having a ball. She stood peering at the table brimming with burgers, sausages, hot dogs, chicken, ribs, salads, corn on the cob, and even shrimp skewers. A nearby table was filled with bottles of all kinds, while a cooler held nonalcoholic drinks for the kids and nondrinkers.
Camille was busily playing hostess to a large crowd of her and Frankie’s family and friends. It was Labor Day weekend, and Frankie had convinced her to host a barbecue at their huge home. Normally, Camille loved opportunities like this when she could show off a little and enjoy one of her favorite pastimes—eating. But today their usual intimate gathering had turned into a big extravaganza. Frankie was using this event as an opportunity to network and to introduce Gillian to some of the movers and shakers in the business whom she had never gotten the chance to meet before. It was his way of slowly increasing her visibility and status in the crew. Nobles, Mayra, Gillian, Baron, and the entire crew were there, along with many folks Camille was meeting for the first time. She had no idea what her husband’s motives were for having a gathering this large, but she went along with the program and tried her best to make him proud. Camille’s family was there also—Misa, little Shane, and their mother, Lily, were in attendance along with a few of Camille’s cousins. But the overwhelming majority of the attendees were Frankie’s peeps, and Camille was working overtime to impress them.
She smiled at Toya and told her to enjoy herself. Dominique stood glaring at her daughter, who was clad in a white bikini and denim shorts over by the pool. She had peeled off her T-shirt the moment they arrived. Dominique hated that Octavia had worn that outfit, but she had promised her daughter that she could wear whatever she wanted on the weekends since she was forced to wear a school uniform five days a week. With all the men present today, Dominique was regretting that promise more than ever.
Camille invited the ladies to help themselves to whatever they wanted. Then she glanced over at Frankie. He was sitting at a table playing spades with Baron, Misa, and Gillian, surrounded by a crowd of people both familiar and unfamiliar to Camille. Toya saw her friend looking forlornly in her husband’s direction and couldn’t resist. “Damn! She’s even his spades partner?”
Camille rolled her eyes at Toya and walked to the drink table to pour herself a stiff one. Dominique nudged Toya and frowned at her. “Would you cut it out? Stop rubbing salt in her wounds. At least for today. She looks so stressed out trying to make sure everything’s perfect.”
Toya shrugged and led the way over to a table not far from the card game. The two of them sat down and dug in to their meals. Dominique watched as Camille made her rounds, greeting neighbors and shooing kids away from the hot grill. She stopped at the table where Nobles sat with his wife, and flashed a smile as she ensured that they were comfortable and had everything they needed to enjoy themselves. Next, Camille walked past the huge in-ground swimming pool to make sure that the children were playing safely under the supervision of Frankie’s brother, Steven. Steven was living in their one-bedroom rental at the rear of their property. He had been laid off from his job and eventually ran out of money to pay his rent. When he was finally evicted, he showed up on Camille and Frankie’s doorstep and they had taken him in. That had been nine months ago, and Steven still had no job and no job prospects. Camille was losing patience, but Frankie seemed not to notice that his brother was freeloading. Steven ate up all the food, ran up the electric bill, and slept all damn day. When he woke up, he lounged around watching talk shows and smoking weed. Camille tried not to complain to Frankie about it, though, since she didn’t want him to think that she was intolerant of his family.
She spotted Dominique’s daughter, Octavia, splashing through the water in her teeny bikini. Camille noticed a few men who should have known better than to ogle such a young girl standing around and watching her. She shook her head and kept it moving. After all, Octavia was Dominique’s problem. She had her hands full as it was, trying to keep tabs on Frankie. Finally, she headed over to the grill and thanked her cousin Peanut for doing such a great job with the food. She looked around and saw her mother stepping in the name of love with one of Frankie’s crew members as the song blared from the deejay’s speakers. Camille shook her head and kept on walking.
Satisfied that everything was running smoothly, she made her way over to the table where Toya and Dominique were devouring the delicious ribs. Camille was holding a big cup of Absolut in one hand and a beer in the other, and she looked genuinely bothered by all the pressure she was under to keep the party going.
Dominique decided to break the ice. “Camille, this is a great barbecue. Everybody is having fun.”
Camille swigged the Absolut and swallowed hard. “Thanks.” She looked around and noticed Frankie and Gillian slapping each other five after a good hand in their card game. “I’ll be glad when it’s over,” she said.
Dominique laughed. But Camille seemed dead serious.
“Misa,” Camille called to her sister. Misa put her cards down and looked in Camille’s direction. “Where is Shane? I haven’t seen him.”
Misa waved her hand as if Camille was being overprotective. “He’s running around here with all the rest of the kids. He’s okay. Steven said he was keeping an eye on him.” Misa went back to concentrating on her card game.
Dominique sipped her beer. “Who is Steven? Is that Misa’s boyfriend?”
Camille shook her head. “No. Misa doesn’t have a boyfriend. Steven is Frankie’s brother, the parasite who takes up space in the guest house and pays nothing. He’s a fucking bum.” Camille said it so matter-of-factly that both of her friends were surprised.
Toya cocked her head to the side in amazement. “Mrs. Bingham? Are you cursing and using unladylike language?” she teased.
Camille shrugged her shoulders. “He is! That son of a bitch sits around all day long doing nothing. He has no job, no hobbies, no motivation whatsoever. He’s a bum.”
Toya smirked. “Cool. He can hang with Jamel when he gets home from Sing Sing,” she joked. “He won’t be doing a damn thing with his time, either.”
Dominique stopped midchew and shot an evil look at Toya.
Camille couldn’t help but laugh. “See, Toya. That’s why I love you. Even though you can be mean sometimes, you never fail to cheer me up.”
Toya was happy to hear that. She smiled at Camille. “With a house this grand, honey, you shouldn’t need cheering up. If you ever want to sell it, I will get you the sun, moon, and stars for a home this magnificent.”
Camille nodded. “It is a beautiful place.” She took a deep breath and looked around at her lovely home, grateful for all that she took for granted sometimes. “Fr
ankie and I bought it when we were young and just starting out. My mother used to work as a home health aide on this side of the island, and at the time all the homeowners in this area were white.”
“They still are,” Toya observed. “I peeped that while I was parking my car out front. You gotta be the only black family on this block.”
Camille nodded. “We are. But there’s an Indian family that moved in a few doors down. That wasn’t how it was back then. When I was a kid, you wouldn’t see a brown face living anywhere near this side of the island. Sometimes I would come with my mother to visit the old lady that she cared for. When we would pass this house, I swear I would feel goose bumps. Even as a little girl, I knew that I wanted to own this house one day. I remember back when I started dating Frankie and we got married, he was working so hard that I rarely saw him. But he was making money . . . so much money. And one day, he came home and told me that he was sick of living in our small apartment and it was time for us to get a house. Well, all I could think of was this place. I told him about it and he said that he would get it for me because he could tell that it would truly make me happy. And wouldn’t you know it, the previous owner was some Mafia type who got sent to prison, and the wife could no longer afford it on her own. It was priced way out of our range, but we made an offer anyway. The next thing we knew, they accepted our offer and we’ve been here ever since. It was like divine intervention.”
Dominique smiled at her friend. Camille seemed to glow as she described the good old days when she and Frankie were just starting out. “It seems like your life is a fairy tale, Camille. You’ve got the man you wanted, the house you always dreamed of, cars, clothes, diamonds . . . you’re very blessed.”