The Family Business

“Stop that! Stop that right now!” Councilman Sims shouted. When he grabbed his chest, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. “Mr. Grant, I think it’s about time the two of you left.”


“I completely understand,” I said as I snapped out of my trance. I grasped Paris by her shoulders and led her away from Trevor’s casket. I gave the boy’s parents a final nod as I maneuvered my dazed and emotional sister-in-law past the other visitors, who were still gawking. From the snippets of conversation I heard as we passed by, I realized that, much to my chagrin, a few recognized her as the ubiquitous socialite that she was.

Leaving the confines of hallowed ground, we stepped back outside into the chilly, damp air. “What the hell were you doing in there?” I snapped, turning Paris around to face me. I wanted to push her down the stairs in frustration for pulling a stunt like that.

“Paying my respects and giving these people what they wanted—answers to their son’s death. What did it look like?” she replied, her numbed state giving way to her typical demeanor. Obviously, her incoherent babbling had been a show for Trevor’s parents. “I don’t think they wanna ask me any more questions now, do they?”

“It looked like you were creating a scene and adding to those poor people’s misery. Your father told you—”

“Hey! Hey!” Paris exclaimed as we walked down the stairs toward the parking lot. “He’s my daddy, not my master. Maybe you should learn that, brother-in-law. Then again, if you had, Orlando wouldn’t be the one running things, would he?”

Now, that was hitting below the belt, and I wanted to punch her for it.

I stopped and turned to her at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re not going to taunt or shame me into thinking or behaving like you, Paris. Have some damn decency. Maybe your sister is right about you.”

“Whatever. Maybe my sister is just as bad as me—or worse.” Paris smirked, rolling her eyes.

She was purposely trying to bait me. Everyone in the family knew London and I had been arguing the past few days over this Jesse guy she’d dated and never told me about. I still couldn’t believe she’d had me thinking I was the only man she’d ever slept with for all these years.

“Anyway, all this death and sadness has me feeling all chilly. I need something to warm me up. Wanna get some coffee—or better yet, a drink?”

Before I could answer, a man’s loud voice interrupted us. “Harris Grant, why does someone always have to die for me to run into you?”

I turned to the voice, recognizing the impeccably dressed Vinnie Dash right away. Vinnie was my law school rival at Georgetown. We graduated first and second in our class. Unfortunately, I was number two, something he would never let me live down. Funny thing was that regardless of my second-place status, he’d been trying to get me to come to work for his family’s business for years.

I gave him a polite wave, hoping he wouldn’t make the trek down the stairs. Of course you know he did, and a lump formed in my stomach as he approached. I discreetly turned to Paris. “You better get out of here. This is business, and he’s very close to the press.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Like I said, I need a drink,” Paris replied. She walked out of earshot just as Vinnie loped up to me, grinning from ear to ear as he offered me his hand.

“What? Now you’re following me?” I asked, taking his hand.

“No. Coincidence. Or maybe just karma,” he said, taking a sip of the coffee he was carrying in his free hand. Two of his employees walked behind him, pretending to be disinterested. “I’m paying my respects to the Sims family, just like you. Well, maybe not just like you.” He laughed. “Duncan’s kid can’t stay out of trouble, huh?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books