Momma gave me an “are you for real?” look. “His feelings are hurt? About what?”
“Well, to be honest, your announcement of Orlando being in charge was kind of a hard pill to swallow for a man who’s usually in the loop, y’know. You could have at least told us you planned on picking Orlando to run the business.”
My mother cut her eyes at me. There was something behind the look, but she quickly composed herself and held back whatever it was she’d been thinking. Instead, she took the diplomatic approach.
“Baby, I want both you and Harris to know we weren’t trying to hurt anyone’s feelings. You know how your father feels about your husband. We didn’t even tell Orlando about our decision until we announced it to you all. Why? Do you have any problems or doubts about his ability to lead?”
“No, no, I don’t have anything against Orlando. I think he’s a good choice, but, I mean, Harris does have a law degree, and he is Daddy’s right-hand man. I mean, you can make an argument—”
My mother cut me off quickly. “An argument for what? London, is this about Orlando being the right man for the job or the fact that Harris wasn’t chosen?”
“Both. I love my husband and my brother, but I just wanna make sure my husband got a fair shake. He’s a very bright man, Momma.”
“To be honest, we gave Harris considerable thought, but in the end we thought Orlando was the right one for the job. Truth is, he’s the only one of you, other than Vegas, who’s got the stomach to get his hands dirty—except maybe Paris, and she’s too young and impulsive right now to assume a true leadership position.”
“Too stupid is more like it,” I spat, rolling my eyes at the sideways compliment my mother gave my little sister.
Of course, my mother stared me down like I’d done something wrong. “Despite her impetuousness, Paris is the best at what she does for us, London. She never questions LC whenever he tells her to do something. She just gets it done. And she’ll continue to do that for Orlando once we’re gone.”
“Oh please, Momma. Only reason the little slut doesn’t question Daddy is because she’s afraid he’d cut her off.”
My mother slapped my leg like I was a child. “London, why do you hate her so much? The two of you are sisters. Why do you have to be at odds?”
“Humph. Ask her,” I replied snidely.
My mother’s expression hardened. “I have, and she tells me it’s nothing. I don’t believe her any more than I believe you. What the hell happened between you two?”
I shrugged. “Just leave it alone, Momma, please. It’s not worth it. Paris is just childish, and she doesn’t know how to keep her legs closed. You know that.”
“Maybe so, but she’s still your sister.”
“That was by design, not by choice. Believe me when I say it. Paris is going to tear this family apart one day. Mark my words. She just does not know how to avoid trouble.”
“She’ll grow out of it, baby.” She reached out and touched my face, looking at me with concern. “Speaking of marks, what happened here?” She gently massaged the place where Harris had slapped me.
“Nothing.” I pulled away from her. Jesus Christ, please tell me Harris didn’t bruise my face. If Daddy saw that mark and figured out that Harris had done it, he’d throw him out of the business or, worse, kill him with his bare hands.
“That ain’t nothing. You’ve got a bruise on your face,” my mother stated. “How did that get there?”
“Oh, that?” I touched it gently. “It’s nothing. Mariah kicked me when I was putting her to bed.”
My mother hesitated before speaking, staring at me as if she could read my thoughts. “Oh, really? Is that so?” I was sure she didn’t believe a word I said. It was time to get as far away from her as possible so I wouldn’t have to lie to her anymore.
“Y’know ... I think I’m going to find my husband. Good night, Momma.”
“Good night, London. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I could feel her eyes on me as I walked away.
Paris
9