by K'wan
The only logical choice to succeed Chancellor, then, was Lolli. She had spent as much time studying under her father as Ghost had. She could play the boardroom just as well as a street corner. Lolli was skilled at closing both deals and caskets. The soldiers respected her. She deserved the crown, but in order to even be able to throw her hat in the ring, she would have to first show her father that she was a capable leader. This was exactly why she’d come to Ridgefield Park.
Nefertiti parked the Navigator along the sidewalk of a large redbrick house. Balloons decorated the front yard and doorway. The sounds of children playing in the backyard was audible even in the car. Nefertiti turned to Lolli in the backseat and said, “You sure this is a good idea?”
“Nope,” Lolli answered, sliding out from the backseat and onto the front lawn. She paused to look at her reflection in the SUV. She was dressed conservatively that day: a pink blouse, heels, and a black shirt that was tight enough to show off her curves without making her look like a slut. Not something she would normally be caught dead in, but she wanted to make a good first impression. With her hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing no makeup, Lolli could’ve easily passed for a schoolteacher—her desired effect. She wanted to appear as nonthreatening as possible.
She walked up the path and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, she heard the lock clank. When the door flung open, Lolli was greeted by an older Black woman wearing a maid’s uniform. “May I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m here to see Alderman Porter,” Lolli said in the most pleasant voice she could muster.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but he’ll see me. Tell him it’s Lauren King.”
The old woman gave her a leery look before disappearing inside the house. A few minutes later she returned wearing a sour expression. She opened the door wider and smiled falsely. “Right this way, Ms. King.”
The maid led Lolli through an expansive living room that boasted a huge fireplace with beautiful paintings hanging on the wall above it. Upon close inspection, Lolli determined that the works were authentic. She had received a degree in art from Arizona State University, which usually proved to be as useful as a flaccid penis. Yet it had taught her how to tell the difference between a forgery and a real piece of art, a skill that occasionally served her well.
Lolli trotted behind the maid down a long hallway, sneaking glances through the windows into the backyard. About two dozen kids ran around the property playing games, while a pop star, whose name escaped Lolli, stood beside a photo booth taking pictures and signing autographs. Lolli had seen photos of Porter’s primary residence on the Upper East Side, but this mini-mansion in New Jersey had come as a surprise; not too many city officials kept second homes in Jersey. Lolli was no financial wizard, but based on what she knew about what her father brought in working as a city official, the alderman seemed to be living well above his pay grade.
The maid escorted Lolli into a room at the end of the hall, which Lolli assumed was the alderman’s office.
“Have a seat. Alderman Porter will be with you shortly.”
After the maid disappeared, Lolli acquainted herself with the office. Framed photographs of Alderman Porter with other elected officials were displayed on the bookshelf, which dominated an entire wall. She moved to the desk, where she picked up a family portrait that sat next to his computer. In their matching sweaters and Colgate smiles, the Porters looked like the typical all-American family. When her eyes landed on the young man standing to the right of the alderman, she almost dropped the photo. She brought it up to eye level to get a better look. The boy’s skin was light, with only the faintest hints of melanin, but he stood out against the rest of the family’s pure white skin. His lack of resemblance to any of the other Porters suggested that he wasn’t a biological child, yet there he stood among the older children like a proud son. Lolli had thought she knew everything there was to know about Alderman Porter—apparently, she’d been wrong. His home appeared to be rich with secrets.
“Ms. King,” a voice called out from behind her. She quickly set the photo back on the desk and twisted around. Dressed in a white polo shirt and khakis that stopped just short of his white tennis shoes, Alderman Porter stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest. He was an older man, but still quite good-looking. He had thick silver hair and clear green eyes.
“Good afternoon, Alderman Porter,” Lolli said, approaching him and shaking his hand.
“It was a good afternoon until Sally told me we had a party crasher,” Porter replied, squeezing her hand a little too firmly. “I’ve got nearly thirty kids running amok across my property and the goats in the petting zoo are making short work of my Kentucky bluegrass, so let’s make this quick. What can I do for you?”
“Please forgive my intrusion, sir. I have a pressing piece of business to discuss and I’m afraid it’s time sensitive.”
With his hand, Porter motioned for Lolli to continue.
“Well, as I’m sure you know, my father is throwing a birthday party for my mother tonight. The event is actually twofold. At the party he’ll also be announcing his intention to run for Brooklyn borough president. The plan is to—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Alderman Porter cut in. “I know all about Chancellor’s little coming-out party. I’m going to tell you like I told your brother C.J. when he asked: I have no plans to support your father’s run.”
Lolli wasn’t surprised. She’d heard as much from Ghost but wanted to try her hand anyhow. “May I ask why not?”
“You want the politically correct answer or the truth?”
“The truth is the only answer I would respect,” Lolli said.
“Quite frankly, I just don’t like your father.”
Lolli knew that her father and Alderman Porter weren’t besties, but she was unaware of any malice between them. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir.”
“Then let me clarify it for you. Your father is a criminal.”
Lolli felt a tingle shoot up her spine. “Alderman, I wouldn’t insult your intelligence by trying to deny something we both already know. My family has a less-than-pristine background, but over the last two decades my father has been working very hard to wash away some of the dirt of our forefathers.”
Alderman Porter laughed. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Lollipop. You can dress a pig in a suit but that won’t make it not a pig. Your father may have everyone else fooled with his silver-lined speeches and charitable acts of kindness in the American ghettos, but I know a devil when I see one.”
Lolli could’ve reached out and socked the alderman in the mouth, but she worked hard to keep her composure. “And here I was under the impression that you were a friend to the King family.”
“I was a friend to your grandfather, Edward. He was a man who understood how things worked.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let me give you a little history lesson. When Edward King ran things, he made illegal money but he kept it under the radar and within his own community. It was easy for us to turn a blind eye to his dealings because they never overlapped with our interests. Then here comes your father with his big ideas and political ambitions. He’s sticking his nose in things that don’t concern him.”
“I don’t understand,” Lolli said. “When he was up for the seat on city council, you were one of his biggest supporters.”
“Because he paid me handsomely to smile and stand next to him in for a couple of photo ops. I never expected him to actually pull it off. We let him have his little victory, but now it seems he has his sights set on bigger game. If we let him get elected borough president, who knows what office he’d set his eyes on next.”
Realization hit Lolli like a brick. She tiptoed toward Alderman Porter, dropping her innocent posture. “So, this is all because you think my father is going to oppose your run for mayor when the time comes?”
Porter chuckled. “He’s welcome to try. Droppin
g off cash in greasy chicken bags might’ve worked in getting him on the city council, but I’m not sure how well that’ll go over in a mayoral election.”
Lolli ignored the insult. “My father is no threat to your political aspirations. In fact, he’d probably be more of a help than a hindrance in your mayoral bid. He has a lot of sway with minorities and that can translate to a whole lot of votes. Chancellor King is a man who understands the importance of having friends and always makes sure to take care of his own.”
Porter laughed again. “How, by dropping off briefcases of money stained with the blood of innocent people? No thanks, I’ll take my chances on winning the election on my own when my time comes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a party to get back to.”
Lolli resisted the urge to break his jaw. Instead, she simply said, “Thank you for your time.” As she moved to the door, a thought struck her. She stopped and turned toward the alderman. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you love your children?”
Alderman Porter’s eyes flashed with anger. “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”
“No sir. It’s simply a question. I’m sure you love your kids more than anything, and they feel the same way about you. Your children would move heaven and earth to see you get what you want. We King children feel the same way about our father. Just some food for thought.”
Porter’s face turned beet red. “You got some balls coming in here trying to muscle me, little girl! At first, I was just going to ignore the invitation to your mother’s party, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to attend, eat the fancy food you provide, and gorge myself on expensive champagne until I’m too drunk to stand. Then, when your father extends his hand to me in friendship, I’m going to spit in it!”
“Be careful, Alderman,” Lolli hissed. “There’s power in words, and you might want to watch yours.”
“And you should stay in a woman’s place! I’m not some sniveling peckerwood in a suit who shits his pants at the site of a little blood. Before I lived in this big house, I came up in a cold-water flat off East Tremont. My mom fed six of us off of a welfare check that she had to fistfight with my drunken father not to take every month. Long before I walked the halls of an Ivy League university, I got my education on the streets. I don’t scare easily. So you can go and tell the so-called king of Five Points that I got no problem wallowing in the mud with him if it comes to that. If anybody in my family so much as twists an ankle on a broken sidewalk, I’m going to hold him personally responsible and come at him with everything I got. I will call in every favor owed to me and rain a shitstorm of hellfire down on all you little ghetto birds in that cesspool that you call a kingdom. Am I making myself clear, Lollipop?”
Lolli smiled and edged closer to the alderman. “Crystal.”
When Nefertiti heard the Porters’ front door swing violently open, she looked up from the text message she was sending. Lolli was storming toward the car, her face rumpled with anger. Nefertiti thought she could make out wisps of smoke rolling over the top of her boss’s head. She didn’t have to ask how the meeting had gone.
“That piece-of-shit cracker muthafucka!” Lolli shouted, slamming her fists into the back of the passenger seat. “How dare he talk to me like my name isn’t Lolli King!”
“I take it he didn’t go for your pitch?” Nefertiti said.
“I barely got two words out before he was dismissing me like some common washerwoman.”
“I knew it was a bad idea coming down here to talk to him without getting your father’s permission first.”
“I’m not Ghost. I don’t need to ask Daddy’s permission before I take a shit!” Lolli spat.
“Well, the man said no. Maybe it’s best we leave it alone, at least for now.”
“You know me better than that, Nef. The good alderman and I will speak again, and the next time it’ll be in a language that he better understands.”
CHAPTER 7
“So, you still need me to handle that for Uncle Chance?”
Monster asked. He navigated his Mercedes G-Wagon through the thick traffic crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Nah, it’s already been taken care of,” Ghost said from the passenger seat, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.
“I wish I could’ve gotten my hands on that snitching muthafucka. I would’ve made sure he died slow and painfully,” Monster said. “Who did you get to handle it? One of them young boys from LES?”
“It’s taken care of,” Ghost responded. “That’s all that really needs to be said about it.”
Monster was not only Ghost’s cousin but also one of his most trusted soldiers. They had done plenty of dirt together when Ghost was still in the streets. When Chance bumped Ghost into upper management, he had made it clear to his oldest boy that it was important for him to keep his hands clean. Chance wouldn’t take it well if he found out that Ghost had recently executed a man on a public street. Ghost had been careful about it, but still. The less people who knew about his indiscretion, the better.
“You been kinda short all day,” Monster said. “What’s eating you, G?”
“Nothing, man. Just got a lot to do before I get ready for this function tonight.”
“Speaking of that—how come I didn’t get an invitation?” He’d never truly admit it, but Monster was in his feelings about not getting invited.
“Ain’t your speed,” Ghost said, flipping the page of his paper.
“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s a family gathering and I’m family … ain’t I?”
“Of course you are, but there’s more than meets the eye with this little shindig. My father is using my mother’s birthday to get everybody together to ask for their support in his political campaign. It’ll most likely be a roomful of old people in stuffed shirts, discussing things that men like us have no interests in.”
“Men like us or men like me?”
Something in Monster’s tone caused Ghost to close the newspaper and give his cousin his undivided attention. “Something on your heart, Cuz?”
Monster turned to look at Ghost. He thought about keeping quiet, but figured that if he wanted an answer to the question that had been nagging him, it was best that he was direct with it. “The streets are talking, dawg. Word is that Uncle Chance is about to give up his seat at the table to pursue this political shit.”
“You know the streets is a two-faced bitch. Can’t trust nothing she says,” Ghost replied with a chuckle.
“Which is why I’m bringing it to you instead of letting my imagination run away with it.”
“I thought it was my job to analyze my father’s decisions, not yours.”
“You and I both know that I couldn’t care less about what goes on in the palace. I’m just worried about how his decision to step down is going to affect the common folk, such as myself. The King family won’t lose much sleep if the streets run dry, but some of us aren’t fortunate enough to have a legitimate business to fall back on.”
Ghost didn’t miss the dig and responded in kind: “And whose fault is that? I’m constantly drilling it in all you niggas’ heads the importance of being able to clean your money up. Shit, I even put a few of the homies through school when they wanted to go. I’ve extended the same opportunities to each and every man who flies under the King banner, but how many have taken advantage of it? The problem with most of y’all is that if it doesn’t get you high, suck dick, or look good on Instagram, y’all ain’t interested.”
“Not everybody is as skilled as you at wearing two faces,” Monster capped.
“Fuck you mean by that?”
“Meaning how you can dance between a roomful of sweettalking white people and a group of killers and not miss a beat. I don’t mean no disrespect either. All I’m saying is that whatever move Uncle Chance makes, I don’t wanna be one of the niggas left out in the cold.”
“Cuz, how long we been running together?”
“Sinc
e we were punk kids.”
“And have I ever seen you go without?”
“Nah, Ghost. You always made sure I was in position to earn my keep.”
“And that will never change. Regardless of which way my father swings on all this, I’m gonna always make sure you’re well fed.”
“Teach a man to fish,” Monster muttered, but Ghost missed it.
The rest of the ride into Brooklyn was spent in relative silence. Every so often Monster flashed Ghost a look, but Ghost was too focused on whatever was running through his mind to notice. He had a million and one things to do before the party, and still more to do afterward. In truth, coming all the way to Brooklyn to solve Christian’s problem was cutting into time that Ghost really didn’t have to spare. In the end, though, showing up to this next meeting would be worth it. Helping his young protégé close this deal would be crucial to what Ghost was planning for the future.
They finally arrived at their destination, a small restaurant a few blocks from the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The windows were all boarded up due to the renovations that were supposed to be going on, before the landlord had forced them to stop working. Things had been fine when the owner of the building thought Ghost would be the tenant, but that changed when he found out that it would be Christian instead. When Christian had shown up with the bank check, expecting to sign the lease, he was unexpectedly turned away. The landlord refused to sign the lease until Ghost came to see him personally. From what Ghost understood, it had something to do with Christian’s eccentricities, but Ghost reasoned it was likely a play for more money. Well, if this dude thought he could hustle Ghost, he had another thing coming.
“Fucking Tinkerbell,” Monster grumbled under his breath when he saw Christian standing out in front of the spot waiting for them.
