The Family Business

“Yeah. Poor assumption, all right. You have no clue, no clue at all how hard I work,” I muttered, looking at my reflection in the car window.

He changed the subject. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I couldn’t help but notice that you and your siblings are all named after cities. What’s that all about?”

I wanted to say, “None of your fucking business, and why the fuck do you keep asking me all these dumb-ass questions?” but instead I answered with plenty of attitude, “My mother was real poor when she was growing up, and she always wanted to travel. So, after they named my brother Junior after my father, she named the rest of us after cities she wanted to see. I hope you don’t have a problem with the fact that she was poor.”

“No, no, I think it’s interesting, really. Truth is, my mom was kinda poor until she met my dad also,” he said, like I was supposed to care. “So, has she had the chance to go to any of those places?”

“Every damn one of them, and so have I.”

“Oh yeah? What did you think of Rio? I went down there as part of this National Geographic photography program when I was in high school.”

“Jesus Christ, can this motherfucker get any more boring?” I muttered under my breath.

He leaned over in my direction. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

“Yeah,” I replied, reaching over into his lap. “I said you’re boring me, and I hate to be bored, so let’s try something a little more interesting. You drive while I suck.” I unhooked my seat belt and leaned my head over into his lap to give him a blow job. Shit, maybe if I was lucky, this would finally shut him the fuck up.



London



5


After my dad’s announcement, Harris, Mariah, and I were the first ones headed home to the family compound in Far Rockaway, where my immediate family, my parents, and my siblings lived—or in some cases, kept rooms to appease my mother. I still couldn’t believe how childish Paris had been, bitching and moaning about Daddy and Momma’s decision. Not only that, but what was she thinking by bringing that boy to our board meeting? If that was me, Daddy would have wrung my neck without giving it a second thought. Well, thank God that Orlando was going to be in charge now; he’d make sure she wouldn’t get away with anything like that in the future. I just hoped he’d let Harris have a free hand in things like Daddy did, so my husband wouldn’t lose his mind.

It was pretty evident from his reaction that, like Paris, Harris was concerned about Orlando being in control. Personally, I didn’t understand what the big deal was. We were all going to get rich no matter who called the shots. Why the heck was everyone so obsessed with the power structure? Besides, none of this was even going to matter if Vegas ever decided to come home.

I glanced over at Harris, who was fiddling with his phone while he was driving. “Honey, stop texting while you’re driving. It’s dangerous. You could have an accident, and Mariah’s in the car.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said but still continued what he was doing. He finally slipped the phone on his hip, giving me a fake smile. “Sorry, sweetheart. I was just texting Orlando back. He said he has something to do and can’t meet with me at the house like we’d planned. He wants to meet after breakfast.”

“So meet with him after breakfast. It’s not like the company’s going to fall apart between now and the time the two of you eat your Raisin Bran.”

“I guess, but if I’d known that, I could have met with your father. Damn, what could he possibly have to do right now?”

“I don’t know, Harris.”

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books