by Pete, Eric
“Girl, put that back!” I squealed, embarrassed that Rudy and Vanessa and Claire and Cliff and Theo—oh, and Denise—could see the name of the video being waved in front of them: Big Tits 12. I could have sworn they stopped singing on the TV. What the hell was in that weed, anyway?
Paris swiftly put it back where she found it, just before Jesse returned with our drinks in his best plastic cups.
“What have the two of you been talking about?” he asked as Paris crawled back toward me.
“Fairy tales,” my sister answered. “Speaking of which, when are you going to call that friend so I can get some dick?”
He handed us our cups and a refilled bong, then picked up his cell and walked to the bedroom.
“I hope his friends are cute,” Paris said.
“They are. Especially Andre. If I wasn’t with Jesse, I’d do him myself. But if you’re really gonna do this, Paris, make sure you use a condom.” Last thing I wanted was for my sister to get pregnant—or even worse, get a disease from my boyfriend’s friend while she was visiting me.
“Oh, no doubt. No glove, no love,” she said as she sucked on the bong.
Jesse returned a few minutes later, smiling. “My friend Andre’s coming over, but he wanted to know one thing.” He turned to me. “Is she over eighteen?”
“Yeah, she’s over eighteen. Her birthday was last month,” I said, though I was starting to wish I’d never let things get this far.
“Okay, little sis. Me and London are going in the room for a while, but when Andre comes, give us a shout.” Jesse stretched out his hand for me and pulled me up.
“You gonna be all right?” I asked.
“I’m gonna be fine. Just leave the weed.”
“It’s right over there on the table.” Jesse pointed with a laugh as he guided me to the bedroom.
Jesse quickly undressed me, and we made love like two animals in heat. I was so high and drunk that I passed out as soon as it was over. I awakened some hours later to the worst hangover in my life.
I could feel Jesse’s leg next to mine. I tried to open my eyes, but the light from the TV in his room hurt my eyes so badly that I immediately closed them again. I tried sitting up, but my whole body ached, so I just lay back down. My stomach was knotted up, and it was difficult getting my body to move like I wanted it to. I had never felt like this after smoking weed. It must have been the Mad Dog.
Once I got the pounding in my head under control, I got brave and opened my eyes again. Once again, the light hurt my eyes, but I refused to turn away, especially after I heard the moans. I knew it wasn’t Jesse, because I could hear him snoring.
It took me a minute to get my bearings and realize the moaning was coming from the TV. I looked at the screen, only to see a big ass covered in a fishnet bodysuit, bouncing on an equally big dick. It was Jesse’s porn tape. Somebody had placed it in the DVD player.
I forced myself to get up and walk over to turn it off. That was when I realized Jesse and I weren’t alone in the bed. Paris was under the covers right next to him.
He wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, I thought as a horrifying possibility entered my mind. I reached down and pulled the covers off of the two of them, and had to hold back the bile that lurched up into my throat as my worst fears were realized. Tears welled up in my eyes at the sight of Jesse’s nude body next to my naked sister. A condom still covered his limp penis, and that just solidified the truth for me. I’d been using birth control pills for the last four months.
I didn’t even wake them. I just got dressed and left. The note that I left for Paris said that I would never forgive her and her ass could take a train home. Jesse’s note just said, Leave me the fuck alone.
As fate would have it, I met Harris in a Starbucks that afternoon, and he turned out to be the man of my dreams and the lawyer my father always wanted me to marry.
“Who the hell is Jesse?” Harris yelled, snapping me out of my horrific trip down memory lane. I was so pissed that Paris had even taken my thoughts there that I almost lunged at her again. Now I was going to have to listen to Harris question me for the next three days.
“Nobody,” I said dismissively, glaring at my sister. I would now also be forced to address the lies I’d told my husband about being a virgin when we met. I had made him wait until our wedding day before we consummated our relationship.
“Look, London, I fucked up. I was drunk and high that night. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t,” Paris argued. “Hey, look on the bright side. If I hadn’t done that stupid shit, you wouldn’t even have Mariah.”
“What is she talking about, London?” Harris asked angrily.
“Nothing, Harris,” I snapped, pointing a finger at Paris. “And you leave my baby out of this, and stay the fuck away from my husband. You’ve been warned.” I turned to walk away, only to see my father standing in the foyer entrance, with Junior standing behind him.
“What’s going on in here? Y’all gonna wake your mother,” he chastised.
“I’m already up,” my mother said from the first-floor hallway that led to her bedroom. “They were making enough noise in here to wake the dead.”
“Paris,” my father said, “what’s going on in here?”
“Nothing, Daddy. Just a little disagreement between us girls about something that happened back in the day. Nothing to worry about. It’s already over.”
Paris played with the truth so much that Daddy didn’t even want to believe her now. He turned toward me for an explanation.
“Is that true, London?”
Well, technically it wasn’t a lie, so I nodded my head, looking for a quick exit. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“I know that’s right,” Paris said. “I’m going to bed too.”
“No, you’re not,” Daddy said, blocking her way. “As soon as Rio gets here, I want everyone but London headed to the office for a very important business meeting. It’s time all of you understood what’s on the line here.”
“What about Orlando?” Junior asked.
“What about him?” Daddy replied.
When I glanced in Harris’s direction, he didn’t even try to hold back a smile. Thank goodness his mind was on something other than me and Jesse.
Orlando
15
I pulled into my parking space at the dealership at about eight o‘clock. It had been a long time since I’d slept in past seven, but I had to admit it was worth it. After a wonderful evening highlighted by some of the best sex I’d had in a long time, I’d fallen asleep. When I woke, Ruby made me this bangin’ Jamaican breakfast of salt fish, ackee, eggs, bammy, and plantains. My mom could really cook, but I swear Ruby’s breakfast was better than anything I’d ever eaten. We topped breakfast off with another round of sex that literally had us falling asleep in each other’s arms.
It was a good thing I met Ruby through Maria and Remy, because a woman like her was dangerous. If it wasn’t for that car service driver banging on the door and waking us up, I might have lain up with her the rest of the day—and I couldn’t have that. Sure, she was good at what she did, but I had to remember that when it all came down to it, she was a whore, a woman paid for her services, and nothing more. Whores came, they did what they got paid to do, and then they left. That was the deal. Laying up? Hanging around? That was for wives and girlfriends—and I don’t need to reiterate my feelings about girlfriends. No, there was no reason to even go there. Just the thought was starting to give me a headache.
I got out of my car, briefly stopping to look at Rio’s Ninja ZX motorcycle, which was parked in his spot. It confused me a little, because Rio was like a vampire; he never came out during the day, especially not in the morning. Then again, the old man did hand out bonus checks last night. I wouldn’t put it past him and Paris to sign out some dealer plates and take one of the nicer sports cars to the Tanger outlet on Long Island for a very expensive shopping spree. Jeez, what a waste of time and money. I guess I couldn’t judge them but so much, thou
gh, because it wasn’t like Junior, Vegas, and I didn’t blow a few bonus checks of our own back in the day. Only difference was that we’d spend our money at Foxwoods or Atlantic City for a night of whoring and gambling.
I’d barely gotten my butt in the building when I was met at the door by Junior, who looked irate. “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been calling you all night.”
I raised my palm to stop him from taking his rant further. “Will you relax? Can’t a brother go out and get laid? Junior, you should have seen this smoking-ass Jamaic—”
“Shhhh!” He nodded his head in the direction of the catwalk that overlooked the showroom floor. I looked up at my father, who was leaning against the railing in front of his office. He did not look like a happy camper.
“Don’t let Pop hear you saying that. Not if you want your head on your shoulders. He’s pissed.”
“Pissed about what?”
“Orlando!”
I looked up and saw the old man point at me and then at his office. Without saying another word, he disappeared through the glass doors into his office.
I turned to Junior. “What happened? What’s going on around here?”
“Man, what hasn’t happened?” he said as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. “Let’s just say you should have answered your phone last night.”
Junior was being purposely evasive, but there was no doubt in my mind that I would soon find out for myself.
When I walked into my father’s office, I saw Harris, Paris, and Rio. They were all staring at my father, who was seated behind his desk. I could tell by everyone’s expressions, especially Rio’s, that it wasn’t a happy occasion that had them all at the office at this time of morning.
“What’s everyone doing sitting around here at”—I looked down at my watch—“eight o’clock in the morning?”
“Well, at least we know his watch works,” Paris shot off. “Too bad we can’t say the same thing about his phone.”
I ignored Paris, which wasn’t hard to do. I’d been ignoring her for years. But there was more to this; I could sense it. Suddenly, I felt like I had a rock in my stomach. Jesus Christ, where the hell was my mother? She’d been a lot sicker than anyone wanted to acknowledge lately.
I turned my attention to the only person I knew who would give me a straight answer. “What’s going on, Pop? Why’s everyone look so somber—”
“Well, for starters ... ,” Harris interrupted.
I wanted to say, “For starters, nobody was talking to your ass,” but I let him finish.
“Your little sister here had a mishap with the police and had to spend the better part of the night being interrogated.” He nodded toward Paris.
“Yeah, and where were you when I called, Mr. I’m-the-New-Head-of-the-Family?” Paris snapped off again.
“That’s none of your business.” If my father wanted to know where I was, that would be different, but I was not going to entertain Paris. “But this little gathering looks like it’s for more than you getting arrested.”
Honestly, it looked like a lynch mob, and I felt like I was the one about to get lynched. I guess they’d had a chance to mull over the idea of me being their leader. Paris and Rio weren’t smart enough to orchestrate something like this so fast, so I had no doubt Harris was the ringleader.
“Almost getting arrested,” Paris corrected, rolling her eyes. “Lucky for me, my brother-in-law was around last night—unlike you—or there’s no telling what could have happened to me.”
It was time to start ignoring her again.
“Anyway ...” I turned to Harris. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had to bail her out. You’re the lawyer. What did you need me for?”
“He wasn’t the one who was looking for you.” The old man finally spoke up. He didn’t sound very pleased, and his expression matched his serious tone. “I was. Now, where the hell were you, and what were you doing that was so important you couldn’t return my call?”
“I ... I was out on Long Island, spending some time with a friend,” I tried to explain.
“Likely story,” Paris shouted.
I shifted my eyes in her direction. I swear, if she said one more fucking word ...
My father spoke up again. “They lose cell phone service out there on Long Island? ’Cause I must have left you twenty messages myself.”
Despite being all business all the time, I was entitled to be human every now and then, right? I could have a little fun. It wasn’t a crime to get laid, was it? These were the thoughts that ran through my head, but somehow, I still felt like I’d let him down.
“It fell in the water.” I dug it out of my pocket and held it up, like that would mean something to him, or anyone else, for that matter.
LC stepped toward me. “If you’re going to lead this family” —he stepped even closer—“then lead. Being a leader means you’re available twenty-four fucking hours a day.”
He made a good point, and there wasn’t much I could say, so I allowed him to continue his reprimand without interruption.
“Get your shit together, Orlando, ’cause if you can’t handle being in the big chair, there are other people willing to do the job.”
He glanced over at Harris, who smoothed out his mustache in an attempt to hide a smirk. I was sure Harris had scored every single point he could the night before, when I couldn’t be reached. I wanted to scream at all of them to cut me some slack, but I knew how immature it would make me look.
I still couldn’t understand why everyone was acting so over the top about this. I mean, sure, I should have been reachable, but it wasn’t as if my brief absence was the beginning of the end for the Duncans. Besides, I wasn’t even the leader yet. In truth, LC was still in charge.
“So that’s it? Paris has another minor mishap with the law and you’re all sitting around here like it’s the end of the world? Pop, why are you making a mountain out of a molehill? You’re acting like somebody died or something.” In the corner of my eye, I could see Junior waving his hand at his neck as if to signal me to shut up, but I saw it too late.
The old man cut his eyes toward me and stood up. Harris and Rio sat back in their chairs as if they were about to watch a fireworks show. What the hell was I missing?
“What the hell did you just say? You know what, Orlando?” LC said in this soft but still menacing voice. I recognized it as the tone he used when we were kids and he was about to put his foot in our asses. “Yes, somebody did die. And from what I hear, if you had answered your goddamn phone when Paris called, you might have been able to prevent it. So, you tell me. Is it a mountain or a fucking molehill?”
I had the right to remain silent, so that was exactly what I was planning on doing ... but I had to know. “Who died?” I asked in a much less confident voice.
LC didn’t answer me. He just sat there simmering.
Harris broke the silence. “That kid Trevor, the one Paris brought to the meeting, took two to the chest.”
No wonder they were all so upset with me. This was a beehive falling on our heads if I’d ever seen one. I shifted my eyes to Paris with one question in my mind: Did she do it? We all knew she carried a gun. No, no, I decided quickly, she obviously didn’t do it. Harris was good, but it would have taken him a lot longer to get her out of there if she had a murder charge.
“Sorry, sis,” I said. “He seemed like a nice guy.”
“Like you fucking care.” She flipped me the bird.
“Paris, not the time,” my brother Rio shouted, and she fell back in line.
“Don’t worry about it, O. I’ve got this under control. You’ve got much bigger fish to fry,” Harris said.
“Huh? What bigger fish to fry?” I turned to my father. “Pop, what’s going on?”
“I got a call from Lee last night. His people have pulled our distribution arrangement....” My father’s words faded, as if he was trying to keep his voice from cracking. He couldn’t mask the hurt and anger in his eyes, though. I hadn�
�t seen that look since he caught Rio in bed with another guy. My father had worked so hard to get us to this point. For it all to be taken away with just a phone call didn’t seem right.
“They can’t do that, can they? We spend millions with them every year,” I said.
“Seems to me that they already have,” Harris replied, and the old man nodded his agreement.
“But why? Thing are going so well. We haven’t reneged on any payments or caused them any trouble.”
“I don’t know why, Orlando, but I suspect we’re being blackballed.”
“So what are we going to do? We’ve got less than two months’ inventory.”
LC stood up again. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to find a new distributor, which is why I’m sending you to Detroit to see if you can negotiate a deal with the folks up in Dearborn and Flint. If we’re lucky, maybe Richard Coleman and the cooperative won’t hold it against us that we’ve ignored them over the past fifteen years.”
I was surprised the old man didn’t want to go himself, but maybe he hadn’t lost faith in me after all. I decided to throw Harris a bone, since he was going to be my right-hand man—whether I wanted him or not. “Why don’t I take Harris with me? I’m going to need someone to watch my back, and he’s good at picking up intel.”
The old man glanced over at Harris, then shook his head as he turned to Rio. “No, take Rio with you. He keeps talking about how valuable he is to us, so let’s see what he can do.”
I don’t think anyone in the room was more surprised than Rio—except maybe Harris, who looked like he’d just lost his best friend.
My father asked, “So, Rio, think you can handle this?”
“Uh, yeah, I can handle it,” Rio replied, rather shaky.
“LC, this is kind of important. Don’t you think this deserves a more experienced hand?” Harris asked. He sounded a little desperate, and I was sure it was obvious to everyone in the room that he felt slighted. “I’d be glad to—”
The old man turned to Harris, cutting him off mid-sentence. “No, I think he can handle it. Besides, after Trevor’s funeral, I’m gonna need you and Junior to go talk to some of our Korean friends. They’ve wanted to do business with us in the past. I’m not too keen on their product, but right now beggars can’t be choosers. You okay with that?”
