One of my mandatory requirements was that Maria and Remy never bring me the same woman twice. I worked better when I didn’t have the distraction of a woman in my life. Don’t get me wrong; I loved women and I loved sex, but when I was in a relationship, I lived and breathed that relationship, and it usually took away from something else in my life—namely, my work. That was okay when Vegas was around, because he picked up the slack, but when he left two years ago, I made a conscious decision to step into his shoes. I cut off all the women I’d been seeing in order to concentrate on business. The problem was my dick didn’t agree and wanted no part of leaving women alone. Most women weren’t interested in skipping the romance and commitment for a roll in the hay—at least not unless they were getting paid, and that still didn’t guarantee I would be drama free.
That was when I came up with idea of using escorts and found Remy and Maria’s service. For me, these nights of pleasure were like mini vacations from the world of LC Duncan and Duncan Motors; and well, nobody wants to go to the same place twice if they have the chance to see something new, right? Of course, some people would argue that there’s no place like home, but I hadn’t found anything that felt like home yet, and I wasn’t sure if I ever would.
“Mr. Orlando, I must tell you, this is my first time doing anything like this for money. If you don’t want to see these other girls who are experienced, what chance do I have of making you happy? And Mr. Remy made it very clear that I am to do whatever it takes to make you happy. I’m so afraid I’m going to mess up.”
“You’re not going to mess up,” I said, getting up from my stool and walking around to where she was. I placed my hands on her hips. “That’s why they brought you to me. I love first timers.” I lowered my head and my lips met hers in a polite peck that turned into a passionate kiss.
I turned off the stove. The food could wait until later. It was time to sample the dessert.
LC
7
I’d been pacing around the dealership for the better part of an hour, contemplating the future of our business and family. Despite her protests, I’d finally sent Chippy home after all the children had gone their separate ways. I wanted her to ride home with Harris and London, but she’d complained so much that I relented, letting her stick around another half hour as I went over paperwork. She needed her rest, though. She’d been suffering from a bad cold that didn’t seem to want to go away, and it wouldn’t get any better with her staying out in the street with me till all hours of the night. It wasn’t like we were twenty-five anymore.
Besides, I needed time to think. I always thought best late at night, when I walked the showroom floor. No one but me could see it, but times were changing, perhaps for the worse, and it had nothing to do with me appointing Orlando to lead the family. What I was concerned about was the unknown competition I’d been hearing about through the grapevine, and the sudden tightening of shipments from our distributors. Someone was trying to muscle in on our territory and discredit us with our distributors. I couldn’t share what I had heard or felt with my family in front of Paris’s date, but it was important that we were all on the same page and that I flushed out our hidden enemy before the shit hit the fan.
“You’re doing the right thing, LC. Retirement’s the only way you can make sure this family survives. You’ve got to make them think the family’s weak, while you work from behind the scenes, like Vegas used to,” I spoke aloud to myself.
I chuckled. Listen to me. Heaven help me if I was turning into a paranoid old man. And heaven help everyone else if I was right and they came after my family or business, because paranoia and power are a dangerous combination.
“You talking to yourself, Pop?”
I looked up and saw Junior walking out of the service area. He was carrying a toolbox. “Yeah, son, I guess I am. Why are you still here?”
“I’m here because you’re here,” Junior replied calmly as he approached from across the darkened showroom floor. He began pacing the tiled floor around me, as if on guard for some unseen threat. Ever since he was little, Junior always thought he had to protect me. “Why didn’t you go home with Momma?”
“I needed to think,” I replied, adjusting the brim of my hat. “The silence does me good.”