Carl Weber's Kingpins

by Marcus Weber

  Paige collapsed into Antonio’s desk chair. Her head pounded. This feeling of helplessness was familiar, and Paige had always told herself she would not be in this predicament again. But, here she was. She picked up her cell phone and stabbed at the buttons. This time she tried Antonio’s best friend, Rich. Nothing. Paige blew out a hard breath. She stormed out of the office and into her kitchen.

  “Where are you? What have you done?” She tossed her phone onto her counter and ran her hands through her hair. She needed something to take the edge off, but she didn’t drink. Paige yanked open the built-in wine cooler that she usually only opened when she had company. She looked inside and read some of the fancy names on the bottles. She grabbed a bottle of Sweet Walter Red, a cheap, sweet red wine, probably the only wine she could stand to drink since she hated the taste of alcohol. Michaela had chastised Paige for even having the eight-dollar bottle of wine in a wine cooler housed in a mansion kitchen. Paige examined the bottle for a few minutes, thinking. She had better get used to drinking cheap wine, since now she was broke now. Was she broke?

  With trembling hands, Paige poured a full glass of the deep burgundy wine and took a big gulp. She winced. Even the sweet stuff didn’t taste sweet.

  Paige wanted to call her mother, but it was late, and her mother would know she was upset. There would be so many questions. Her mother had a keen sixth sense when it came to Paige’s drama, but not much else where Paige was concerned. When Paige was younger, being a wife was the only thing her mother expected of her. Her mother would say, “Marriage is a woman’s purpose.” She fed that into Paige’s little head from the time Paige could say the alphabet up to the part where most kids turned the letters into a sing-song that sounded more like ELA-MEN-OPEE than L, M, N, O, P.

  “Paigey,” her mother would say. “You’re so pretty. Those gray eyes and that long, sandy hair will get you the richest, most handsome husband when the time comes.” All through high school, her mother obsessed over who Paige had a crush on and who she dated more than she did. Paige never let her mother know how much anxiety the constant badgering about marriage had brought her. And her mother certainly acted as if she didn’t notice the bouts of depression, when Paige would retreat to her wing of their estate for days at a time without eating, bathing, or going to school.

  Paige stared into the bottom of her empty glass. She realized that she’d lived her entire life for other people. First her parents, then Michaela, then Antonio, and now Antonio and Christian. She didn’t have anything of her own, not even experiences. Everything she’d experienced in life had come from other people. Paige had attended the finest schools, traveled to mystical places around the world at a young age, taken music lessons, dance lessons, starred in debutante balls, and never wanted for anything thanks to her parents. Paige’s fun years could be credited to Michaela. Paige would’ve never snuck out of the house, partied (oh, and did they party), experimented with weed, backpacked around Europe, and had fun, sneaky, exciting sex out of wedlock, if it weren’t for Michaela. Even finding the joy in parenthood had been thanks to Antonio. Paige had suffered the worst bout of postpartum depression after Christian was born, but Antonio’s constant urging and support helped her get over it. She’d eventually snuggled up to her baby boy, inhaled his scent, and formed a bond with him that she hadn’t thought possible. Everything. Everything Paige did in life had depended on other people. Even now, she co-owned everything with Antonio, and she stood to inherit the rest. Nothing was hers and hers alone. Not even her son. The thought of how empty her life was made her take the wine bottle to the head this time.

  She thought about her son. Her first son. The one that she had lost in the stress of Antonio’s indiscretion. Just like a man, she thought, only thinking about himself. They were so young at the time and unmarried, and the stress of her reputation being at risk, as well as the cheating, almost put her in the hospital. But when Antonio showed how much he loved her, it felt like nothing else mattered, and she recovered. She could remember the day five years ago that she told Antonio she was pregnant. She had bought a pair of baby Air Jordans that matched his favorite pair. When he came home and saw, he almost cried.

  From that moment on, Christian was their world, both Paige and Antonio. A perfect reconciliation of their relationship. He looked so much like his daddy that she couldn’t look at him and not think of Antonio. With his dark curls and brown skin to match, he seemed to have the best of both of them. He had a laugh that would fill the house, and he was fast, so fast that Antonio wanted to put him on a court already, but she had said no. She thought that one day he would be a tall, gangly sixteen-year-old like Antonio, that then he could follow in his father’s footsteps. But for now, he was still her baby, her redemption after the first initial heartbreak she had suffered. Even tonight as he spent the night at Michaela’s, she missed him.

  “What do you have without him? Who are you without them?” she murmured, speaking to the sketch on the bottle of a woman and little man in a French beret. She took another swig of wine. Her insides warmed up, but she didn’t feel better. She was mad at the tears sliding down her face. She’d let this happen. It was her fault.

  “You need your own career. Your own money. You need control of your life. Take control of your life. To hell with everyone else.” That sounded practical as she said it, but Paige didn’t even know where to start. How does one go from being a kept little girl to a kept woman, and suddenly stand on her own? Paige hugged the bottle of wine to her chest, tucked her legs under her, and curled up on the couch in her family room. “That’s it, Paige. Take control of your life.” The thought, easier said than done, crossed her mind right before she fell into an anxious sleep.

  Chapter 3

  Living Up To It

  Antonio took a deep breath before he turned the doorknob and entered the house through the garage. His legs felt heavy as lead, and his eyes like someone had thrown a handful of sand in his face. He’d prayed all the way home that Paige was upstairs in Christian’s bed asleep, which was what she usually did when she was mad at him. It would make things easier for him. He needed a mental break.

  Antonio looked down at his watch, and it was 2:30 in the morning. He knew his wife well enough to know that she’d be thinking the worst. For the second time in less than 24 hours, dread loomed over Antonio until he felt like someone had thrown a black bag over his head . . . over his life for that matter.

  Antonio crept through the family room, taking care not to make too much noise. In the darkness, he didn’t see Paige until she was on him.

  “Where have you been? Why did you take all the money? What is wrong with you?” Paige came out, screaming and pounding her fist against his chest.

  Antonio stumbled back a few steps. “Wait, Paige. Shh.”

  Paige swung her arms wildly, and her voice cracked with anguish. “You had me looking like a fool in front of everyone! How could you?”

  “Shh.” He wrapped her up in a tight bear hug. “Paige, calm down.” He struggled with her.

  “Get off of me,” she yelled through gritted teeth, fighting against his strong grip.

  “Calm down. Let me talk to you,” he said, feeling her strength waning.

  “How could you?” Paige collapsed against his chest, finally worn out. “Why?” she whimpered.

  “I know you’re upset, but I can explain everything.” He held her and guided her over to the couch. He could smell the wine on her breath. He knew she could smell the whiskey on his.

  “What did you do?” Paige asked, her voice trembling.

  “I thought I was doing the right thing, Paige. I swear I did.” He released her and hung his head. “I told you that I made some investments. Well, what I didn’t tell you was that they were with Rich.”

  Paige’s head shot up. “What?” Her voice was thin and reedy like a sick person’s.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m telling you, shit was solid. I researched it. I swear I did. It was a hedge fund that had
outperformed all others. The money was going into several different businesses. It was a good deal. What I thought was foolproof.”

  “And?” Paige asked, lowering her face into her hands.

  “It fell apart. I put everything into it, and it fell apart.” Paige sucked in her breath and fell against Antonio’s shoulder again. He could feel her trembling. He’d lived poor before, but Paige hadn’t. His stomach churned. He’d ruined their lives. He hated to disappoint her like this. Again.

  “And, I can’t find Rich. Whatever was left, he’s gone with it.” Antonio felt a sharp stab in his chest as he said the words. All the way home, he’d promised to be honest with Paige. No more lies. Not even to protect Rich, like he’d done so many times in the past.

  Her shoulders rose and fell with an “it figures” and “I told you so” shrug.

  Antonio had been friends with Richard Durn since they were kids. Rich was the person who’d gotten him through his years growing up in the projects without so much as a scratch. Rich would fight all of Antonio’s battles. He was of the streets. Everything about the streets was in Rich’s blood. He had been there for Antonio through his struggles in life, including the death of his mother. Antonio had always felt an unbreakable sense of loyalty to his best friend and didn’t want to admit that he recognized what others had been telling him for years: Rich was trouble. Rich had ridden Antonio’s coattails the entire time Antonio played in the NBA. Others, including Paige, would tell Antonio that Rich was an opportunist, but Antonio was blinded by his loyalty to his friend. Even when it was obvious.

  * * *

  Antonio had just wanted to get lunch. Rich, as usual, was late. They weren’t at a fancy restaurant, but somehow Rich still managed to be underdressed, in his overly baggy jeans, bedazzled T-shirt, and inexplicable winter coat. Antonio was almost annoyed, but Rich cracked that same smile he always did, and his anger vanished in the nostalgia of their friendship. Rich was more a brother than anything else.

  “Sorry, man, I got caught up handling some business,” Rich said in the way he always did, where Antonio knew he was lying but preferred not to know anyway. He poured himself some water and drank it all in one gulp.

  “No worries, I was just chilling, I don’t have shit else going on,” Antonio paused, his nerves getting the best of him, “I don’t know if you’ve heard yet—”

  Rich cut him off. “I already know. You know I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he said while flagging down a waiter and opening a menu, everything one swift motion. He looked at the menu while Antonio sat quietly, angry his friend seemed so nonchalant about his world ending.

  “So, you’re just not going to—” Antonio started before Rich cut him off again.

  “Chill, my guy. I found a way to fix your problem,” Rich replied before hearing the question, knowing that he was annoying Antonio by not letting him talk. He smirked. “See, when I heard that you had been dropped, my first instinct was to go fuck up that dumbass manager of yours, since he clearly doesn’t know what the fuck he doing, but then I thought, do Antonio even care about ball that much? We getting old.”

  Antonio scoffed. He knew his body was at this peak, and that his career ending had more to do with the politics of it all and less about his prowess on the court.

  “I told you all those years ago that marrying that little daddy’s girl was going to come back and bite you in the ass,” Rich had to pause to order his food, and Antonio took his chance.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Rich? Just say it,” Antonio said before his friend could open his mouth again. This is how things often went between them. Rich knew that he would not be living the life he did without Antonio, but Antonio knew that he would not be living the life that he did without Rich’s support throughout their teen years. They were both completely and totally indebted to each other, and for Rich that meant that he could talk to NBA star Antonio Roberts any which way he wanted.

  “I have an investment opportunity for you,” Rich said, leaning back in his chair and putting his fingers together like some sort of Bond villain. Antonio almost laughed out loud.

  “Nah, get out of here, man, you know I don’t fuck with that life. Keep it.”

  “Listen, you trust me, right?” Rich leaned forward in his seat. Who knew Antonio better than he did?

  “You know I trust you with my life, but my money is something else,” Antonio shifted in his chair. He didn’t like thinking that his status had pulled him away from that boy who used to post up in his living room all those years ago.

  “Alright, say less, but, at least listen to what I have to say. This isn’t just me, this isn’t just you, there is a whole mess of other investors moving capital in my direction. Or at least they want to. The money is there and ready, but I’m not Antonio Roberts. People don’t trust me the way they trust you.” Rich was talking slower and slower, and Antonio could feel where this was going.

  “Rich—”

  “Listen, if you don’t trust me—if you really don’t trust me—look at the portfolio for the company,” he reached into his puffy jacket and pulled out a slightly bent manila folder that he must have had under his arm the whole time. Antonio was surprised by his friend’s preparedness. Usually when he came to ask for money, he only brought his flashy smile and his knowledge of Antonio’s guilt for getting out of the hood.

  Antonio looked through the documents that Rich laid out on the table. And for the first time began to seriously consider that maybe he was on to something.

  “Listen, Paige ain’t the one to be broke and struggling, you know that. Your son deserves better than you did, you know that. Make this move, preserve your future.”

  Antonio was still flipping through papers. He knew from the moment that he met Paige that as much as he loved her or as much as she loved him, nothing compared to the way money ruled their lives. It didn’t matter if it was his lack or her surplus. Either way, it was an important part of their relationship. Where else was he supposed to get the money Paige needed to live her life now that the one thing that had him on the come up was gone?

  “I’ll think about it,” Antonio said. Rich smiled.

  * * *

  Paige’s voice brought Antonio back.

  “Okay, so you invested some and lost it, but you took everything out of the bank and shut down the credit cards.... Why?” Paige sat back up, her face stony. She needed answers, he could tell.

  Antonio sighed. “I had to, Paige. There were other investors. These people invested in the company just on the strength of me, my name, my star power. But when this happened,” he shook his head. “The claws came out. The investors called me to a meeting this morning, and they were demanding their money back. Rumors were flying. They were saying it was all a Ponzi scheme and they were going to take me down. I tried to explain to them that I was in the same position as they were, if not worse.” The words fell from Antonio’s lips like big, heavy cinder blocks.

  “Ponzi scheme?” Paige repeated. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hands shook.

  Antonio closed his eyes and cleared his throat to keep it from completely closing on him. He felt like he was telling his wife he’d betrayed her all over again.

  “How much did we lose?” Paige asked, sternly.

  “Millions.”

  Just like the people he’d convinced to invest in Rich’s business venture, Antonio had lost millions. His last. Their last. Practically everything they had for their future.

  “It was my name on their contracts. Rich had drawn up the company’s ownership papers and filed the licenses. We were listed as partners on everything, but it wasn’t an equal partnership. On paper, I owned 80 percent of the company. I didn’t even know it until one of the investors literally threw her contract in my face.”

  Antonio’s head throbbed thinking about it. That same irate investor happened to be the niece of a high-ranking federal agent. She had let Antonio know that if he didn’t return her money immediately, she and all the investors would b
e going to her uncle’s office before the end of the day. He’d be in trouble with the Feds, on top of losing everything.

  “That’s why I had to gather up all the cash that I could, including the cash advances on the cards. I had to save my ass, Paige. I’m in way deep.”

  “So, we’re broke, and you’re in legal trouble?” Paige asked, her eyes stretched in disbelief.

  “I’m going to fix it.”

  “Oh my God,” Paige gasped.

  “Look, I have enough cash on hand to take care of the bills for a couple of months until I can make the money back. We’ll have to cut back on the extra stuff.”

  “But how, Antonio?”

  “Don’t worry. I will take care of it. I always do,” he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her closer to him. Paige was stiff against him, her anger, fear, and disappointment like a force field between them.

  “Trust me.” He stroked her hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to us.” He kissed the top of her head. He moved slightly so that she would have to face him.

  “I love you.” He gently ran his thumb down her cheeks to wipe away her tears. “Do you hear me? I would never let you go without.”

  Paige closed her eyes. Some of the tension in her features eased. She looked like a wounded soldier surrendering.

  Antonio leaned in and kissed her.

  Although her body was tense, Antonio knew how to set things straight between them. It had worked so many times in the past.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he ran his hands up her shirt.

  “Me too,” Paige sighed. She didn’t fight him away.

  “Just give me a chance to fix it,” Antonio whispered, pulling her shirt over her head.

  Paige made a mousy noise as Antonio moved lower and tugged her pants over her hips, then past her ankles.