The Family Business

“I’ll be there.” I slipped my BlackBerry from my pocket when I felt it vibrate. I’d received a text.

Just got some new shit in right off the boat. You were the first one that came to mind. You interested?



I lifted my head from the phone, then glanced left and right to make sure no one was within eyesight of my BlackBerry screen.

I glanced over at Harris, who was guiding my sister and niece toward the door, then replied to the text.

Damn right I’m interested. I was just given a big promotion at work and have a lot to celebrate. Give me about an hour to slip away.

The return text read, Congratulations. I’ll have my sister set everything up for the exchange.

I glanced over at Harris again. Sorry, Harris, but our little meeting may have to wait until morning.



Paris



4


I’m sorry, but I couldn’t get with the Kumbaya after hearing Daddy was leaving us—leaving me—for palm trees and sunshine. So, with Trevor in tow, I bolted out of there right after Daddy adjourned the meeting, so I could fucking breathe. There was nothing else to talk about, anyway. At least nothing left for me to talk about.

I’m sure King Orlando had a lot to say after Trevor and I were in the wind. I just didn’t understand what the hell Momma and Daddy were thinking about by leaving Orlando in charge, anyway. I swear, I loved my brother, but if he tried to put me on an allowance, I was gonna kill his ass.

“You have quite a family,” Trevor said as he drove me away from the dealership.

I guess he didn’t notice that I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. And what the fuck did he mean by “quite a family”? I wasn’t sure if he meant that shit as a compliment or sideways-ass insult. Right about now, I didn’t give a damn what he meant by it. I just wished he would shut the fuck up and drive. I needed a drink and some good music, and perhaps, if he was lucky, some dick, so I told him to head to the Jackie Robinson Parkway and good old Brooklyn.

Orlando in charge? Orlando? I could see Vegas, but all Orlando cared about were his reports and numbers. He couldn’t see the big picture, my picture. Pompous ass. He already thought he ran things, walking around like he owned the dealerships, telling me what I could and couldn’t do. Luckily, Daddy was always there to set him straight. But now? Now it was gonna end, because basically Daddy had confirmed what Orlando had always thought: that he was the king of the world—or the Duncans, anyway. Well, we’d see how much of a king he was when Vegas came home. If he ever came home.

I rolled my eyes in Trevor’s direction as I opened my phone to read a text that had just come through: You ain’t had to say bye, heifer. Despite how angry I was about everything that went down, I had to laugh at my twin brother’s text. He and Vegas always knew how to bring a smile to my face.

Sorry, bro. Had to get outta there. Going to BK for some drinks and music. Wanna meet us there? I replied.

Can’t. Got to work the club, or big bad O may fire me. LOL.

He ain’t gonna do shit! I replied.

I know. Just messin’ with you. So what’s up with your boy Trevor? Thought we were into bad boys.

I know, right? Shit, I’m still trying to decide if he’s on your team or mine.

Don’t get it twisted, sister. He ain’t on my team. If he was, I would know and would have let you know when he first walked in. I wish he was, though. He’s cute, in a preppy kinda way.

He’s kinda boring. That’s what he is. The things I do for Daddy. Listen, we need to talk about O when you get home.



“Paris?” Trevor called just as I hit SEND. From the tone of his voice, you would have thought he read my text.

“Huh?” I turned to him.

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books