by Weber, Carl
“Who?”
“Never mind,” she mumbled as we reached topside, music blaring once again, but in Spanish this time. Our little Greek couple was in the middle of a heated argument now and didn’t see us. I guided her through the crowd of partygoers, grabbing a bottled water from an ice-filled tub as I moved us to a quieter location.
“When we get back to shore, they gonna pay. Best believe,” she swore in a fit of rage.
“If,” I corrected her. A lot could go wrong between now and getting off this boat. “I need you to leave this alone. We don’t need complications in a foreign country. Especially involving people with their kind of influence. Their father owns the largest construction company in Spain. Who you think the policia are going to believe, you or them?”
“Shit!” she cursed under her breath. “So you just beat their asses? I know you did. That’s the only reason they didn’t come after us.”
“Because I told them not to,” I replied as I flashed the camcorder’s memory card between my two fingers before hurling it into the Mediterranean. “Now drink that water.”
Nadja approached me, watching us closely. I could see that she was trying to figure out what was going down. I nodded my head, motioning her to keep it moving, but that just made her more determined to stand her ground.
“One second,” I told Paris as I stepped aside to talk to Nadja.
“What’s this one’s problem?” she asked, annoyed at the distraction. “I thought we were going to talk.”
“I’ll meet you for breakfast. We can go over everything then.”
“Get rid of her and we’ll talk now,” she pressed me.
“I can’t.”
“Why? It’s not like you won’t replace her in five seconds.”
“Nadja, tomorrow. I got to handle this.” I walked off, leaving her pissed no doubt. Women!
“What is this with you and these skirts? Are you some kind of gigolo?” Paris asked, half serious.
“My work and my capabilities between the sheets are two entirely different talents,” I assured her.
“You knew they were going to spike my champagne? How?”
“They were stalking you as if you were their prey after handing you the champagne. Was planning to talk you out of drinking it, but you were too fast. And probably too thick-skulled to listen to me. When they were through with you, you could’ve found yourself sold to human traffickers and never seen again.”
“Stalking. Prey. Human traffickers,” she repeated. “How you know this shit?”
“All this and I don’t even get a thanks. Why you gotta bust my chops like that, ma?” I asked her.
Her mouth dropped open wide like she didn’t have no quick comeback. “What did you just say?” she asked, looking me in my eyes for the first time since boarding the yacht.
“You heard me. Got sumthin’ against a brother?” I prodded.
“You some kinda comedian? Listen to Jay-Z on a loop or some shit? You’re good. Almost had me fooled for a minute.” She chuckled.
“Yeah, I got jokes. But my accent, it’s called growing up there.”
She stared, giving me the once-over. “Boy, getthefawkout-tahere,” she challenged.
“I’m serious as a heart attack. Marcy Projects.”
“Whoa whoa whoa! Don’t you think you’re taking the ode to Jay-Z shit a little far?” She still wasn’t getting it.
“We came up in the same hood but different times. As bad as things were back then, you makes me miss home. Furreal.” I could tell by the way her mouth softened that she finally got it.
“Then why in the fuck are you out here pretending to be British ’n’ shit?” she whispered.
“People are comfortable letting one of their own handle their dollars. If a change in accent gets me into these rich fuckers’ pockets, then . . .” I said with a shrug.
“Or panties,” she tried to diss me.
“Hey. I’m not gonna apologize for being single. Got no kids. And I do what I want, ma.”
“And you like it that way?” She stared at me for confirmation.
“I did,” I said and let the rest drop there. We both went silent after that. But before things had a chance to get awkward our Greek couple took center stage. They were in a full-blown brawl. Eleni busted her man in the head with a champagne bottle so the party was really over for them. The poor boy’s blood sprayed those unfortunate to be wearing all-white ensembles, screams and groans escaping their mouths in response. The captain of the boat ordered a crewman to have them brought ashore immediately in the smaller craft docked onside.
“Ready to get outta here?” I grabbed her hand, ready to flee.
Nadja
18
I’d spent an extra hour hitting the bag at the hotel gym. My girls had plied me with drinks and an assortment of eye candy to keep me from spiraling. There wasn’t enough type B in my personality to balance me out. I was type A squared and it took more than a few cocktails to get me back in party mode. To say I was peeved was putting a very mild slant on it. The fact that Niles dismissed me in front of that American didn’t exactly endear him to me and it was my job to have his back. I wasn’t sure what exactly was happening with that one but it wasn’t his normal modus operandi. Something had gone down with her that he didn’t want to share with me. Instead of letting me in on things, he acted really overprotective of her, which threw me. Niles and I were not only friends and coworkers, but as his employer it was my job to make sure things went smoothly. That meant no extra added drama with the revolving door of women he slept with. I couldn’t afford for him to become unreliable or distracted.
The work we did was too important to too many people, mainly my father. I was trying to prove to him that one day I could take over his business and I wouldn’t allow anyone to compromise that goal. The hardest part was getting my father to see that my sexual persuasion was not reason enough to exclude me from being in charge. One thing had become glaringly clear and that was that I had to keep an eye on Niles. One false move could topple everything I had worked to build and I wasn’t about to let that happen. My father trusted him, which in and of itself said a lot because he usually viewed his employees as easily replaceable. So for entirely different reasons we had both come to value Niles as an important asset. I needed to trust him and to know that no woman was capable of shifting his focus and loyalty away from my family.
“We have a problem,” my father’s voice rang out on the line.
“Yes, Papa.”
“That job you just handled? Well, it came with more complications than we originally thought. The contract cannot be finalized until these two other issues are addressed. One should be easy but the other is going to require a more delicate negotiator.”
“How soon does this need to be finalized?”
“Twenty-four hours would be an acceptable timeline. Like I said, the second part of the contract requires a lot more work.”
“Consider it handled,” I assured my father.
“I will send you all of the particulars via courier. Good thing you stayed in Valencia an extra night. You saved yourself the travel.”
After my father hung up I called my assistant, Navid. “Got it,” he said after getting all the particulars. “You okay?” he asked.
My assistant was always concerned about me. Why can’t I be attracted to men like him? It would make my life so much easier. Coming from the same culture, Navid and I shared the struggle of parental expectations that neither of us could live up to. Neither of us could ever tell our parents what we wanted in a mate. We each wanted what we wanted: someone who would be taboo in our culture. Because of that bond, talking to him always made me feel so much better. That’s why I had to stop myself from lamenting to my assistant about the man I wanted; so instead of going on about my broken heart and the man I loved, my only response to him asking about me was, “I’m fine.” Then I hurried off the telephone, thinking about all the work in front of me. Part of that work had to do with debr
iefing Niles as soon as possible. I picked up my phone to call him, but he didn’t bother to answer—another bad sign.
“Phone me as soon as you get this. We need to talk.” Call it instinct or just knowing him too well, but something told me he wasn’t sleeping in alone.
Paris
19
I groaned as I rolled over when the sunlight hit me. The angle of the sun had it directly shining in my eyes. The night had been brutal getting the drug out of my system; yet, Niles stayed by my side through it. The series of vomiting and sweats made me even angrier for being the fool. But once I fell asleep, I slept like a baby. Roofies are a real motherfucker.
“How long have you been sitting there?” I asked Niles, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, sporting a charcoal-gray business suit. I glanced around. Although the rooms were exactly the same, everything in here was positioned the opposite of mine.
“Not long. Slept on the couch, just took a shower. I wanted to check on you,” he answered as he patted me on my thigh.
“Thanks,” I replied. “You know . . . you could come join me. I’m feeling better. Really.”
“About fuckin’ time. And I’d like nothing better than to get with the joinin’,” he said with a wide grin. “But I have to go downstairs. Work calls. Last day of the conference and I’ve skipped out on way too much as it is.”
“Yeah. From chasin’ too many bitches around town,” I teased as I sat up. The sheet slipped away, exposing my bare breasts, which I did nothing to cover. I was buck naked and surprised by him not trying anything. Kinda pissed me off. “Well, suit yourself, homie. I ain’t gonna ruin your money game. Or tell ’em you’re frontin’ with the British shit.”
“Thanks. Appreciate that,” he said, effortlessly shifting to his phony accent for my amusement. “But I have another request of you.”
“Shoot.”
“Leave that stuff on the yacht behind you, Paris. Those two are dangerous. And I don’t need any complications in my business dealings. Or being dragged into something that’s way over both our heads.”
“Selfish prick,” I said, smacking my lips. “Why it’s gotta be all about you?”
“Because I’m all about my paper. So let it go, Paris. A’ight?” he growled, Brooklyn proudly bellowing through his lungs again. Niggas from BK was always trying to be the boss.
“Yeah. A’ight,” I agreed. Just to shut him up.
Niles leaned over and kissed me on my lips. “Good,” he said just as my phone rang. I was going to ignore it but it was a specific ring, which meant it could only be one person. I dived over to the side of the bed and grabbed it.
“This better be damn important ’cause I’m looking at the hottest piece of light chocolate in Europe.”
“The world,” Niles teased.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come back last night. I got into a little something.” Rio responded.
“So did I,” I said, still staring at Niles. “What happened to your ass, or should I say who?”
“It ain’t like that . . . yet.” Rio laughed. “I’m hella crazed. Gonna head back over to the club in a minute. Got lots to do.”
“It don’t make sense having my brother here if I ain’t gonna get to see him,” I pouted as Niles gathered his things.
“Yeah, but I’m throwing the hottest party this little town ever seen tomorrow night. You better be there.”
“You know it,” I responded
“I’ll catch you later.” Rio hung up.
“My brother,” I answered Niles’s questioning gaze before he could ask.
“That’s who I saw you with in the restaurant?”
“Yeah, ’cept he took a gig at Klub Impulso or some shit! They’re having a party tomorrow.” I smiled up at him.
“I suppose I’ll have to go with you to make sure you stay out of trouble.” Niles kissed me on the forehead.
I frowned. Did this brother want to get it or not? I got up and grabbed a robe as he hit the door. “I need to go.” I threw on my heels, letting the robe open as I stood up. Yeah, check out what the hell you’re missing, I thought.
“You making it hard for a nigga to concentrate on his work.” Niles smiled at me as he stepped into the hallway.
After I made my way back into my room and grabbed a shower I retrieved my Ruger .380 from out the air vent where I’d hidden it. Ramon and Antonio were going to get got by my hand and this, the precious bit of steel in my hand, was a start. I was loading one into the chamber when my phone rang.
“Yo, you put me in the middle of some bullshit, O,” I answered, recognizing the number.
“Paris?”
“D . . . Daddy.” I gasped, clumsily dropping my handgun onto the floor.
“How are you holding up?” LC asked. “I hear your brother made his way there too?”
“Yeah, I guess he didn’t like the idea of me being alone,” I slyly responded as I snatched my handgun back up.
“Then what ‘bullshit’ were you referring to?” he pressed, his already-deep voice deepening even more.
“Huh? Oh that,” I scoffed. “There’s a business conference going on at the same time. Bunch of old people and their money, s’all.”
“Well, maybe Orlando did you a favor. You might learn something about the value of money from those ‘old people’ as you call them. Just make sure that you and Rio stay out of trouble. Maybe with the two of you there you won’t get bored and cause trouble.”
“Daddy, I understand why you wanted me here. After what happened with Vegas and all.”
“Enough,” LC reprimanded me. I knew why he wanted me to stop there. This phone was secure, but you never know. Now wasn’t the time to be slippin’.
“Sorry, Daddy,” I humbly offered.
“Paris, we’ll talk another time. Soon. But for now, just listen to your brother. And don’t create any more problems than we already have.”
He ended so quick that I didn’t even have a chance to tell him I love him. I carried my gun over to the desk in the living room and logged on to the hotel’s Internet. Wanted to find out more about Antonio, Ramon, and the construction company their father owned. I had been taught not to give in to emotion and just wild out, but to do my research first and strike when the time is right. The Web site clicked on the local news.
The main story froze my finger atop the mouse, daring me to click away. But I couldn’t. There had been two deaths overnight in Valencia.
The sons of a major construction magnate, both dead from what looked to be apparent drug overdoses. On their yacht.
Their names were Ramon and Antonio Villaragosa. Known on the party scene. The article said that brought the total deaths in two nights of the festival season to three, the first being the accidental death of a Pakistani businessman Mr. Hamid Khan the night before.
“No fuckin’ way,” I cursed as I leaned in closer to the monitor, refusing to believe what I saw. I recognized his face as the man who I saw talking with Niles.
The connection among all three of them was . . . Niles.
Maybe Khan really did die by accident. But the other two? They were mine. And I knew he had something to do with it even if they were calling it an overdose. Did Niles pay someone to off them after we got off the boat? Of course, I never saw them leave the cabin. Maybe Niles did it himself then lied to me. Now I was really buggin’. Who was this guy?
Well, whatever. That sneaky motherfucker was gonna pay for lying to me.
I quickly finished dressing, putting my hair in a ponytail, and forgoing a nice pair of heels for some Nikes, then headed downstairs.
I took both my knife and my gun with me.
Hadn’t decided which one I was going to use on Niles, but I was sure I’d figure it out when I saw him.
Bitch-ass Brooklyn nigga. I was gonna show him how Queens gets down.
Rio
20
I rolled over to see Eduardo staring down at me. Nigga had been watching me sleeping. Hell, I knew I was fine but he was look
ing at me like he wanted to take a bite and couldn’t get enough. It would have completely creeped me out except it felt really good to be with someone I didn’t have to pretend with.
“What?” I leaned up on my elbows so we’d be face to face.
“Are you sure that was your first time?”
“Going all the way? Yep. Trust that I would know if I’d done that before.”
“How can that be? You were amazing!”
“Maybe I’m a natural.”
“But why now? Why me?”
“Luck and timing. I was ready, you were here.”
“I may never let you leave.”
“Valencia or your bed?” I laughed.
“Both. You have honored me by giving me such a gift.”
“Hey, I spent a long time following somebody else’s rules and now I’ve decided to make my own.”
“So is that why you landed in Valencia?”
“You can say that.”
“Let’s say that I’m just glad I was able to have the pleasure. I am certain I am not the first to want to get to know you better.”
“Not exactly.” I smiled, thinking of all the opportunities I put off for fear of anyone finding out the truth.
“You going to tell me more about why you decided to settle in Valencia or leave it up to my imagination? You running from an angry lover or two?” he asked, and as much as I wanted to not think about my family I decided this was the right moment to perfect my cover story.
“Well, I was bored and looking for the next thing. My sister came here for vacation so I joined her. And when I saw that your club had some whack-ass things stopping it from being the business I got my answer.”
“And your family? They’re just okay with you being here?”
“Aside from my sister I’m not really that close to my family. They’re a lot more traditional.”
“So you’ve up and left?”
“I’ve been on my own for a long time fending for myself.” I thought of the pocket full of credit cards in my wallet with bills I’d never see or have to pay. I liked this story better. It fit with my new plan to eventually own a club.
