The Purple Don

by Solomon

  “Yeah. What about him?”

  One of the Chechnyan bosses. It’s like three of ‘em in L.A. that carry all the weight, but on the street, he’s the top dog.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know they ain’t no joke. So if they the target, it won’t be easy.” Bone predicted.

  Joey looked at him with a curious smirk.

  “What are you sayin’ man? You can’t handle ‘em?”

  Bone lit his cigarette.

  “Lucky for both of us, we never had to find out.”

  “Until now,” Joey added.

  “Depends on what’s in it for us.”

  Joey waved his arm around the immediate vicinity.

  “The drug scene in Hollywood’ll be ours. Exclusive. The only stipulation is that all the X comes from my people and through my people.”

  Bone eyed him.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Coke, weed, whatever. It’s totally your call. Personally, I wouldn’t touch it. X’ll make you rich, and right now, it ain’t on the radar. By the time it is, you can cash in, a millionaire.” Joey explained, remembering Seth’s assessment of the situation.

  Bone contemplated his words as he smoked his cigarette. He flicked his ashes into the tray.

  “What are you askin’ of us?”

  “Certified killers. No lightweights, no questions asked. They work for me, but they answer to you. So any discrepancies, I hold you accountable,” he told Bone, looking directly in his eyes.

  Bone shrugged.

  “Fair enough. So when do we get started?”

  Joey sat back, glanced up at V.I.P. again. His eyes and Maria’s met. She gave a wink. He smiled.

  “We already have.”

  Joey let Bone and Animal take the main limo, because they picked up a bevy of chicks, while he and Enrico took the other limo.

  “So, whaddya think?” Joey asked, slouched and wide-legged in the back of the limo.

  Enrico sat diagonally across from him.

  “I think they’re a fucking youth gang that can’t be trusted,” Enrico answered.

  “I don’t have to trust ‘em, just control ‘em.”

  “How?”

  “What else? Money. With the money they’ll be makin’, I’ll keep ‘em too busy to fuck up. And if they do, I’ll handle it,” Joey assured him.

  Enrico nodded.

  “As for you, can you work your magic at LAX?” Joey asked.

  Enrico cracked a cocky grin.

  “I haven’t seen an airport where I couldn’t.”

  “Good, because we’re expanding: Chicago, San Fran, Texas and every college town in between. Before we finish, every college kid in America will know what X is,” Joey predicted.

  “Not a problem,” Enrico replied, glancing at his watch. “Listen, drop me at the hotel. My flight to Miami leaves at eight.”

  “Not yet. We’re supposed to meet with the girls and compare notes. Half an hour, tops,” Joey told him.

  Something in Joey’s tone made Enrico look at him, and for the first time during the ride, realize that he was alone with Joey. It was the first time since the rape that they had been alone, and Enrico wondered to himself why he wasn’t feeling more anxiety than he was. There was no question that he feared Joey, but his greed and ambition kept him in his orbit.

  Not to mention a few other things…

  Joey read his mind through his expression.

  “Does being alone with me make you uncomfortable, Enrico?” Joey questioned, but his tone told Enrico he was toying with him.

  “What kind of game are you playing, Joey?” Enrico retorted.

  Joey just watched him for a moment then asked, “You ever think about that night?”

  Enrico didn’t answer, but his glare did.

  “And what’s the first thing that comes to your mind? Revenge?”

  “Believe me, Joey, every dog will have his day.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.”

  Several moments later, they arrived at Joey’s condo in Hollywood Hills. Enrico looked at the darkened facade. No lights were on. He looked at Joey.

  “I guess they ain’t here yet,” Joey answered before Enrico asked.

  “Then drop me off at my hotel,” Enrico responded, eyeing Joey directly.

  The driver opened Joey’s door.

  “You’re here now, right? Might as well wait,” Joey answered nonchalantly as he left the car.

  In that moment, after Enrico paused and climbed out of the car, they both knew…

  “Will that be all, Mr. Diamanti?” the driver inquired.

  “Yeah, Bill. Thanks, we’re good.”

  The driver got in and drove away, as Joey and Enrico climbed the stairs and went inside.

  As soon as they entered, Joey reached to turn the lights on, but Enrico stopped him with a trembling hand.

  “No…leave them off,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself for the remark. He wasn’t ready for the light.

  Even in the dark, he could feel Joey’s smile.

  “What you do in the dark…” he remarked, letting his voice trail off as he reached for Enrico, embracing him around the waist and pulling him close to his body.

  “The truth is, you never stopped thinking about that night,” Joey surmised, whispering in Enrico’s ear.

  “And I hated every thought,” Enrico gritted, hating to admit it but feeling a burden being lifted at the same time.

  When Joey bent him over the couch and slid his rock-hard dick inside him, the pain almost made Enrico’s knees buckle. But once he got past the pain, he knew things would never be the same.

  “So what do you think?” Joey asked Te Amo as she drove.

  They were driving along Wilshire Boulevard in a brand new, black convertible Porsche 964 Turbo.

  She shrugged.

  “It’s okay.”

  “Okay?” he echoed with an incredulous chuckle. “I paid $70k for this thing! I give it to you, and all you can say is, okay?”

  “I said ‘thank you’ didn’t I?” she retorted, adding with arrogance. “Besides, I already have one of these.”

  “Yeah, but not in L.A.” he shot back.

  She cracked half of a smirk, but her attitude stayed firmly in place.

  Joey knew she wanted him to ask, but instead just toyed with her emotional game.

  “I tell you what: we take it back and you can get whatever you want. How’s that?”

  Unable to contain it any longer, she turned to him at the light and said, “You bit him, didn’t you?”

  The way she framed the question and the wording she chose made Joey laugh out loud. His laughter irked her even more.

  “You’re a fuckin’ asshole,” she spat.

  “Whaddya mean, did I bite him? Am I a fuckin’ vampire over here?”

  “You know what the hell I mean, Joey.”

  “Of course I know. I’m just sayin’…” he shook his head. “It’s no big deal, okay? He wanted to be bit.”

  She shook her head as she pulled away from the light, shifting gears with aggression. She couldn’t put her finger on why the thought of Enrico being with Joey bothered her. But when she went to Joey’s apartment and found Enrico there, she just…knew. Was it the look Enrico gave her? A look that revealed much as he groveled in the guilt he felt? Or was it that she sensed that this was more than a game to Joey? She didn’t know. But one thing she did know was that she didn’t wear jealousy well.

  “The other night…was that the first time?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Because I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she replied.

  “Why not?” Joey pressed.

  “It’s…It’s bad for business,” she answered, saying the first thing that came to mind, so she wouldn’t have to say the real reason.

  Joey chuckled. “Now I see where you get your green eyes from.”

  “Fuck you,” she seethed, close to eruption.


  ”I thought that’s what we were talking about?” he remarked, loving the game but realizing it was time to throttle back. He changed the subject. “Speaking of business, run the situation down to me again. I want to wrap my head around an angle.”

  Te Amo looked at him, knowing what he was doing, but she let it go for the time being.

  “Bone basically had it right. The Chechnyans control the drug scene in the L.A. club circuit. Not so much the coke—because the Nicaraguans have that—but the designer shit, definitely. There are three main Bosses: Sergei, Yuri, and Vladimir. Vladimir is the biggest of the three.”

  “So we kill the heads,” he surmised, nodding to himself.

  “But it won’t be that simple. All three keep a team of bodyguards, so getting close is out, unless of course you’re a woman,” she suggested.

  “And we’ve got plenty of those.”

  “Exactly,” Te Amo agreed then glanced at him.

  “So you gonna get your hands dirty?”

  “I’ve got Sergei eating out of my hand already. Of course, that might mean I go a little further than usual, but at least he’ll go out with a bang, huh?” she giggled.

  Joey frowned up.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Whaddya mean ‘with a bang’? You gotta buff the guy to kill ‘em?”

  The tables had turned, and Te Amo jumped on it instantly.

  “What does it matter? As long as we get the mark, right?”

  “We’ll get ‘em, just not like that,” he replied, poker-faced.

  She suppressed a smile.

  “How, Joey?”

  “Send another broad on the team.”

  “He likes me.”

  Joey glared at her.

  “Don’t play with me, okay? The cock sucker’s a nobody,” Joey growled. “If we have to, we’ll wait until he goes into the club and burn it to the fuckin’ ground.”

  Te Amo laughed.

  “Really, Joey? Kill everybody, just to get one guy?”

  Joey shrugged.

  “What can I say? They shoulda been in church,” he said, and even though he smirked, he was dead serious.

  Te Amo laughed harder.

  “I love you too, Papi. Now who’s jealous?”

  He waved her off, dismissively.

  “Fuck outta here; I’m just sayin’…I don’t want nobody touchin’ you,” he admitted.

  “How do you think I feel?” she quickly retorted.

  “Yeah, well some things I can do, and you can’t.”

  “Fuck you! Same rules.”

  They argued all the way to Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles, but by the time they got their order and sat down, they were laughing again. Neither could explain the chemistry between them. It was crazy, so it made them crazy.

  Toward the end of their meal, they heard a girlish voice call out, “Joey?”

  They both looked up and saw the redhead from the New Year’s Eve party approaching with a buxom brunette behind her. When Joey recognized who it was, he smiled politely and rose from his seat to hug her.

  “Hey, how you doin’?” he greeted, unsure of the girl’s name.

  Reading his tone, she smiled knowingly and said, “Leslie. Leslie Emerson, from New York. Remember?”

  “Right! I’m not too good with names. Your face? Well, that I could never forget,” he charmed with an impish grin.

  Both girls giggled.

  “Thank you,” Leslie remarked side glancing at Te Amo, more so to size her up. But then she recognized the face and got wide eyed. “Te Amo! Oh my God, it’s a small world! Joey, I didn’t know you knew Te Amo!”

  “Yeah, small world,” Joey remarked, while Leslie bent over and gave the still-seated Te Amo a hug.

  “Oh my God,” she gushed, straightening up. “Imagine the odds! How long have you two been out here? Have you been out partying? Te Amo, it’s nothing like you’re used to, right?” Leslie rapidly spat, her demeanor clearly juiced up on coke.

  Joey stole a glance at Te Amo; she gave him a sarcastic response on the sly.

  “Where are you guys, anyway? We have to get together. So much is happening for me, Joey, and I have you to thank! Remember that commercial you helped me get?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Liar,” she giggled. “Anyway, the Marty Latrell saw me in it, and he loved me! Now, I’m in his new movie!” she exclaimed then hugged Joey again.

  “Hey, textbook Hollywood story, huh? That’s beautiful,” Joey remarked.

  Leslie gasped and got wide eyed then said, “I just had a great idea! Marty’s showing the movie he just finished on Friday. Why don’t you two come with me? It would be great, and Marty would love you, Joey! Who knows? Maybe there’s a Hollywood story waiting for you!”

  “I’m camera shy, but who knows? Might be fun. I’ll be there,” Joey agreed, his agile mind seizing on an angle he just recognized. Leslie wrote down her number and gave it to him then kissed him on the cheek.

  “Call me for sure!”

  “But of course,” Joey replied, as the two females walked away. He looked at Te Amo. “That’s your brain on drugs.”

  “Where do you know her from?” Joey casually questioned as they walked to the car.

  “Miami. Club-hopping,” she lied.

  Joey let it go without comment.

  Marty lived in a breathtaking marvel of modernity. His mansion hugged the precipice on which it was built, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The waves licked and crashed along the base of a cliff 50 feet below—hard enough to send the ocean spray spritzing across your face in Marty’s backyard where he set up a tent, almost revival-like to showcase his latest release. He was fresh off a blockbuster, so many of Hollywood’s A-list royalty, actors, and directors were there to play to his ego. White-jacketed waiters weaved around air kissers and whispered daggers, as the narcissistic collective nursed their self-esteem.

  Joey and Leslie arrived just before the showing began. More eyes were on Joey than on the screen. Even amongst the A-listed, his natural confidence brought out their insecurities—especially among the guys—though not exclusively. The women would swoon in his presence, while he sat back and enjoyed the attention.

  After the showing, several actresses couldn’t wait to approach…

  “Leslie, where have you been hiding this one?”

  “You have to introduce me to your friend.”

  One middle-aged producer—who clearly resembled Bette Midler—bluntly asked, “How much do you charge?” She assumed he was an escort.

  Joey chuckled and replied, “For a lady as lovely as you, no charge.” Then he kissed her hand.

  He said it to be charming; she took it as an offer. She handed him her card.

  “Whatever day that’s good for you,” she added, then walked away.

  Joey pocketed the card and said, “I think I’m gonna love Hollywood.”

  Leslie giggled.

  “I think that Hollywood already loves you,” she added, before taking his hand and saying, “Come on, let’s find Marty.”

  After mingling and moving through the spacious backyard, she finally caught up with Marty in his cathedral-ceilinged living room. He was talking to two Japanese businessmen.

  “Marty,” she sang. “There you are.”

  She led Joey through the crowd and Marty turned to her with an exasperated look on his face.

  “My dear…what is your name again?” he asked impatiently, as he returned her hug and air kiss.

  “Leslie.”

  “Yeah right, Leslie. I’m terribly busy.” He started to turn away, until he looked up and saw Joey. The rest of his sentiment was swallowed as he gasped, “Oh my God, you are beautiful!”

  Leslie beamed.

  “Marty, meet my friend Joey. Joey, this is my producer, Marty Latrell.”

  “Please say you are the angel of death and you have come to take me away,” Marty flirted viciously, not knowing or caring how Joey would take it.

  Joey chuckled at the irony, because Marty didn’t know how
right he was.

  “Not yet,” Joey winked.

  “Then whatever it is, the answer is yes!”

  Joey and Leslie laughed.

  “Who’s your agent?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Have you ever been in front of a camera?”

  “Never even caught on tape,” Joey cracked.

  “Joey’s not an actor, Marty.”

  “But he must be,” Marty replied, looking at her like the God had spoken. “Or else that would be like Picasso never painting, or…or Bach never composing. His beauty can’t go to waste! I would love to have you,” Marty remarked, curling the ‘L’ in love with his tongue and pausing provocatively mid-sentence, before adding, “in my movie.”

  Joey gave him a subtle look, but chuckled and replied, “I already have a day job.”

  “Quit,” Marty shot back. “I’ll make you a star.”

  “Sounds tempting,” Joey charmed.

  “Then let me tell you more,” Marty offered. He turned to Leslie. “You don’t mind if I steal him, do you?” Then, without waiting for a reply, he and Joey walked off.

  Marty introduced Joey to some of the movers and shakers in Hollywood, with comments like “Meet my next star.”

  “This is the guy that’ll make people say, ‘Who is that dreamboat?’”

  After the who’s who tour, Marty remarked only half-jokingly, “Say the word and we’ll take my plane, wreck it, and get stranded on a deserted island.”

  “The end?” Joey quipped.

  “No. Happily ever after,” Marty countered, and they both laughed. Once the laughter subsided, Marty added, “But really, Joey I could give you a real future in this town.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls, but let’s do this. I’ma give you a coupla days to have your people look me up. Then we’ll talk again, okay?” Joey proposed.

  Marty’s eyes got bigger, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh my God. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

  Joey shrugged good-naturedly, even though he had had enough of being paraded around like a piece of meat.

  “Not at all. I just want you to know that you’re dealing with a little more than just the flavor of the month.” He winked, adding, “I’ll be in touch.” Then he walked away.