The Family Business 5 Read online

  “That’s deep,” she said. “But boarding school sounds fun. Did you have to wear the uniforms like they do on TV?”

  “Yeah, and I hated it. I hated the whole experience. I just wanted to be with my mom and have a real family,” I said sadly. “I thought I was all alone in the world until I came to live with my dad’s side of the family. I never thought anyone could show me as much love as the Duncans have. And now all I want is to hold onto it as long as I can.”

  “That’s sweet. I’m glad it worked out for you, but from my experience, family is way overrated,” she replied morosely. I could hear in her voice that there was way more to that story.

  “Vegas, can you turn some music on? These two are trying to bore me to death,” Danielle yelled out of nowhere, interrupting our conversation. A few seconds later, the sound of hip-hop music came through the speakers.

  Kia and I stared at each other, but neither of us said a word. Fifteen minutes later, we were both asleep.

  LC

  2

  “Sign here and there,” I said, marking an X next to the two places I wanted Davis Taft’s signature. He scribbled his name by both, smiling like he’d just won the damn lottery. And why shouldn’t he? He’d just signed the paperwork to purchase a $600,000 Lamborghini Hurricane.

  “Congratulations.” I extended my hand, and Davis took it with a firm grip. “Young man, you just bought yourself one of the finest cars a man can own, and in the process, scratched off one of the bucket list items of half the men in America. How does it feel?”

  “Amazing,” he replied. The man looked like he was going to soil himself from excitement.

  “Good. Let’s get you into that car.” I spotted Phil, our sales manager, and waved him over. “Phil, this is Davis Taft. He’s here to pick up the yellow Hurricane we’ve got down in service.”

  “Nice. That’s a beautiful car. Congratulations.” Phil shook Davis’s hand.

  Davis couldn’t get rid of the shit-eating grin on his face. “Thanks.”

  “Why don’t you take Davis down to service and get him acquainted with his new car?” I tossed Davis a set of keys and shook his hand again before the two of them exited. When they were both out of sight, I leaned back into my plush leather chair and pumped my fist in the air. Other than my family, there was nothing that I loved more than selling an expensive car. It was like a drug. God, it felt good to be back at work.

  “Mr. Duncan?” I was startled out of my personal moment by a light tap on my office door and a female voice. I looked up, and there was Sherry, one of our administrative assistants.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “There’s a Mr. Brooks here to see you. He was here earlier to see Vegas, but he wasn’t in, and now he’s back asking for you,” she said.

  “Brooks? Is that a first or a last name?” I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes.

  “I assumed it was his last name, but I can go—”

  I shook my head. “No, send him in. If he’s looking for Vegas, I probably know him.”

  A few minutes later, Johnny Brooks was standing in my office doorway. I recognized him right away.

  “Hey there, Mr. Duncan,” Johnny said humbly, his smile revealing a shiny gold tooth.

  Johnny was a long and lanky two-bit hustler with an unkempt beard. He used to drive trucks for us a few years back, and he wasn’t a bad guy when he was sober. Johnny had a drinking problem, and the only person who could keep him on the straight and narrow was Vegas. When Vegas went to jail five years ago, Johnny damn near fell in the bottle, and regrettably, I had to let him go. This was the first time I’d seen him since.

  “Johnny Brooks! It’s been a long time, son.” I stood and offered my hand, wondering what he could possibly want with me or Vegas after all these years. I knew one thing was for sure—he wasn’t there to buy a car. “What brings you down to Duncan Motors?”

  “Well, I’d heard Vegas was home, and I needed to see him. It’s kinda important.” He had an uneasiness to him, and I couldn’t tell if he was intimidated by me, was drunk, or both. Whatever it was, he was nervous as hell.

  “It must be for you to stop by twice. But Vegas isn’t here on the weekends. Is there something I can help you with?” I asked.

  He scratched his head, looking around like someone might walk in the room and kill him right then and there. “Nah, I probably should just speak to him about it. No disrespect.”

  “None taken.” I had a pretty good feeling why he was looking for my son. “Johnny, you looking for a loan? You need a few bucks?”

  “I ain’t gonna lie. I could always use a few bucks, but I’m not here to borrow money. I’ve got a job . . . or at least I think I do. What I need is to get in touch with your son. You think I could leave you a number? It’s real important.”

  He’d piqued my curiosity. “Why don’t I do one better? Why don’t I give him a call?”

  Johnny looked hopeful for the first time since he’d walked in my office. “Could you, sir? This is really important.” There was that “important” word again, the third time he’d said it since he walked into my office.

  “Sure.” I pulled out my phone and made the call. When it began ringing, I handed Johnny the phone and waited. I would ear hustle to satisfy my curiosity.

  “Hey, Vegas,” Johnny said, covering the phone. “It’s Johnny Brooks, man. Listen, I need to talk to you real bad, brother. Can you give me a call?” He left his number, and then finished up with, “It’s important!” There was that word again.

  He hung up the phone and handed it back, frowning. “Voicemail.”

  “Yeah, he’s out with his son today. I’m sure he’ll call you when he finishes.” I tried to play it off, but as hopeless as Johnny was, he was starting to make my Spidey senses tingle. “So, Johnny, how about a drink?”

  “Sure, that sounds good. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day,” he said.

  I stepped over to the bar located on the far side of my office. “What can I get you?”

  I was already reaching for the decanter of cognac when he said, “Coke is fine.”

  “Coke? I was gonna offer you my good cognac. You sure you want Coke?” I knew Johnny liked my cognac because he and Vegas used to sneak into my office for a taste.

  “Coke’s fine, Mr. Duncan. I don’t drink no more,” Johnny replied seriously. “It’s been about two and a half years since I took a drink.”

  Now, that surprised the hell outta me.

  “Two years, huh? That’s good, Johnny.” I handed him a can of Coke from the mini fridge. “Glad to hear you’ve cleaned yourself up.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I heard the words come out of his mouth, but I could see him eyeing the decanter as I poured myself a drink. “You sure you won’t have one?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I could hear the hesitation as he sat down in a chair across from my desk and took a sip of his soda.

  I sat down and stared in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Johnny, but you look troubled.”

  “That’s ’cause I am in trouble, Mr. Duncan.” Johnny took a long sip then glanced up at me. He had tears in his eyes. “More trouble than I’ve ever been in, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “What kind of trouble, son?” I asked.

  “The kinda trouble where you end up in a body bag,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I leaned forward in my chair, more concerned about my son than anything else. “And how exactly is Vegas involved with this trouble?”

  “He’s not, but he’s the only one I could think of to help me out of it.”

  I tried to mask my relief. “You do know I’m probably the first person Vegas is going to come to with your problem, Johnny, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Maybe you and me can figure this situation out without getting Vegas involved.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Johnny sat up for a second. I was sure he was about to tell me what was going on, but we were interrupted by Sherry.

 
; “Excuse me, Mr. Duncan. A gentleman who says he’s your business partner insists on seeing you.”

  She handed me his business card, and I almost pissed myself when I saw the company name. “Where the fuck is he?”

  “He’s in the conference room,” Sherry replied.

  “Johnny, hold tight for a second. I gotta take care of something. I’ll be right back.” I didn’t wait for a response. I was on my feet and out the door so fast. Sherry was on my heels, but I quickly dismissed her. “This is a private meeting, but if you want to do something, take Johnny down to the breakroom and get him a sandwich and another Coke. This shouldn’t take too long.”

  She stopped in the corridor and said, “Yes, sir,” as I trudged away, prepared to whip somebody’s ass.

  I stormed into our conference room. Sitting at the head of the table was KD Shrugs, a short, fat, middle-aged redneck who was as mean and ruthless as they come. He was dressed in a blazer, jeans, and cowboy boots. To his right, standing in the corner, was a refrigerator-sized redneck bodyguard wearing a Make America Great Again T-shirt. I thought about slapping KD’s fat ass for having the audacity to show up at my place, but at my age, going up against the bodyguard without shooting him could prove to be painful. It was times like these I wished one of my sons were around—or maybe even Paris.

  “Nice place you have here, LC,” KD said in his long Southern drawl. “And that secretary of yours makes a real fine cup of coffee.” He lifted up a black Duncan Motors coffee mug as if he were an invited guest. “Oh, and she’s got a nice ass, too, if you’re in the mood for a little brown sugar.” He and his bodyguard began to laugh hysterically, until I raised my voice.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “God damn, who the hell pissed in your corn flakes this morning?” KD slid a black duffle bag across the table. “Here. Maybe this’ll make you feel a little better.”

  “What’s this?” I unzipped the bag. Inside were stacks of money. Without even counting it, I knew there had to be at least a hundred thousand dollars.

  “That’s your cut for the month. Business is good. I’m thinking about buying a few more trucks.”

  “Not good enough for you to be showing up at my fucking place of business,” I growled, zipping the bag up. “We have a deal. You don’t come to my office, my home, or anywhere else I do business. Obviously, you don’t understand that.”

  “What I understand is that we have a problem.” He pointed back and forth between me and him. “So, I don’t give a shit if your black ass is having dinner with the fucking queen of England. We need to talk.”

  “Well, we’re not talking here, and I don’t give a shit if your redneck, white-sheet-wearing, cross-burning, fat ass likes it or not!” I stated in no uncertain terms. “I don’t think you want me to take this little incident to our mutual friends, do you?”

  We stared at each other for a moment, and he finally relented. “Fine. Tonight, the usual place, the usual time. Don’t be late.”

  I nodded, and without saying another word, he struggled to get his fat ass up out of the chair until the bodyguard helped him up. He picked up his cup of coffee, finished it, then walked out unceremoniously.

  Damn. This was not good.

  I took a few minutes to get myself together and figure out my next move before I returned to my office to deal with Johnny. However, when I walked through my office door, I found Sherry alone.

  “Where’s Johnny?”

  She shrugged skittishly. “He left.”

  “What do you mean, he left? I asked you to keep an eye on him. Where’d he go?”

  “I took him to the break room to get him something to eat like you asked, and on our way back to your office, he just dropped his sandwich and ran. Disappeared out the back door.”

  I was confused. “And this all happened out of nowhere? He just took off unprovoked?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it unprovoked.” She looked out of sorts, and I could see why. Between that asshole in the conference room and Johnny disappearing under her watch, I was fuming, and I was sure she could see the agitation on my face. “It all happened so fast, but as we were leaving the breakroom, we saw that man you were talking to in the conference room leaving the building. I’ll admit he’s a pretty scary-looking man, but Mr. Brooks looked more than scared—he looked petrified when he saw him.”

  “So petrified that he took off out the back way?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Sherry replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look that scared before in my entire life.”

  Nevada

  3

  “Rise and shine, everybody!”

  Dad’s yelling woke me. I looked out of the window and saw that we were pulling through the gates at our house. The last thing I remembered was Danielle asleep on my shoulder and seeing him and Marie exiting the van to go into the grocery store. I must have fallen back to sleep after that. But it was good to be home, because I was hungry, and I couldn’t wait for my dad to start grilling.

  “Damn, this is where you live?” Danielle sat up, excited.

  “Yep,” I said pridefully.

  “Y’all rich!” She leaned forward to look past me, not caring that her breasts were all over my face.

  I glanced over at Kia, who just kind of shrugged.

  “Can you give me a tour?” Danielle asked.

  “Ah, sure,” I replied, and she grabbed hold of my arm as we exited the van.

  “Nevada!”

  We were halfway to the front door when my dad shouted my name. We stopped and waited for him to catch up.

  He said, “Danielle, can you give me and Nevada a minute? Rio will take you inside.”

  Danielle let go of my arm and grabbed Rio’s, and they continued toward the house. I could see Kia hesitate, but she followed Rio when he waved her on.

  “What’s going on?” Marie eased over when she realized we’d stopped.

  “Nothing. Everything’s cool, babe. We’re just having a little father and son talk. We’ll be right inside.”

  Marie looked skeptical but didn’t protest. She gave him a kiss and then left us alone.

  Dad turned to me. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Why? What’s up?”

  He gave me a knowing look. “Danielle’s what’s up. I saw how she’s pressing up on you. She’s definitely trying to offer you an opportunity. I just wanna make sure you’re good, in case you plan on taking it.”

  “Would you take it?” I asked. “I mean, if you were me? Would you take that opportunity?”

  Dad looked away for a second, taking a deep breath. I could tell this was not the direction that he’d planned our conversation to go in. “You and me are not the same person, son. But back in the day, if a pretty woman like Danielle offered me some . . .” He hesitated briefly, then just said it: “Yeah, I’d probably have taken her up on it. But that was me. I was a little more out there than you.”

  “I’ve had girlfriends before, Dad.” I wanted to make sure he didn’t think I was scared, although there was some scariness to what we were talking about.

  “This ain’t no high school cheerleader we’re talking about, son. This is a grown-ass, experienced woman. I’ve seen grown-ass men lose their minds over women like her.”

  “I can believe that,” I replied.

  “Good, because time spent with her could be invaluable—or detrimental as hell.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Unfortunately, this is something you have to decide for yourself. Just know this: whatever you decide, I got your back.”

  Since the day we’d met three years earlier, my dad had not only proven to be a great father, but also my best friend. However, in that moment, I could tell he was finally beginning to see me as a man and not his little boy.

  “I appreciate that, Dad, but the truth is, Danielle isn’t exactly my type. She’s a little too loud and aggressive for my taste.” I took a deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong. She’s beautiful and nice, bu
t not my type.”

  “That’s kind of what I thought. Good luck getting that message across. But that being said, it’s still my job to make sure you’re prepared for anything.” He chuckled, taking out his wallet from his back pocket. He opened it and handed me a gold foil–wrapped condom. “Why don’t you hold onto this just in case? Not necessarily for Danielle, but you never know when these kinds of things are going to happen. Always better to be prepared than not. I keep a box in my top left-hand drawer.”

  I stared at it, not knowing whether to laugh from the hilarity of the moment or die from the embarrassment. After all, this was my dad handing me a condom.

  I didn’t have time to choose a reaction or even respond because suddenly, an SUV pulled up, and of all people, my mother stepped out. I shoved the condom into my bathing suit pocket.

  “What’s she doing here?” my father mumbled.

  I shrugged, putting on a fake smile and heading toward the car. I loved my mother and knew she was flying in from the West Coast to spend the week with me before school started, but she wasn’t supposed to arrive until the next day, and her being there was not a good look at all—especially since she had that angry look that usually made me find somewhere to hide because there was about to be a whole lot of cursing in Spanish.

  “Vegas Duncan, what the fuck have you gotten my son into?” she snapped, stomping toward us.

  I wasn’t sure what she was talking about because I was positive she hadn’t seen the condom . . . or had she?

  “I trusted you to take care of my son, not corrupt him!”

  “What are you talking about? We just got back from the water park,” Dad replied, shaking his head. “I told you I was taking him. Why are you tripping?”

  “You told me you were taking him—not him and a bunch of half-naked whores,” she hissed at my dad angrily. “Those women were all over my child.”

  “Stop right there, Consuela,” Dad shouted back in warning. “First, he’s not a child. He’s a young man. Second, no one was half naked or all over Nevada. You’re out of line.”