The Family Business

“I head back to L.A. in the morning, but I will be back a few days before the first shipment.”


I patted him on the back. “Well, let me see you out, then. I have an apartment nearby that you’re free to use, if you’d like. Anything else you need while in town, just let me or Orlando know. My son Rio owns a club that I think you might like also. You have our numbers, and we’ll be sure to answer,” I said, cutting a look at Orlando.

Outside my office, I led Miguel to the showroom floor, while we waited for Orlando to double-check all the facts and figures of our agreement. Miguel was drawn to the black Continental GT instantly, peering in its windows and admiring its powerful lines as he circled it.

“You like?”

“I love it. It’s beautiful,” he gushed, his eyes ablaze. “Se?or Alejandro does not deal in such expensive European cars as you. He is more comfortable with domestic brands and Japanese cars, as you know.”

“When you’re ready for one, come see me. I’ll let you have one at my cost,” I said with a smile. Even though I wasn’t actively involved in sales these days, the allure of a potential deal still gave me a rush.

“You are most generous, Senor Duncan.”

“Daddy, here are those purchase orders you asked for,” Paris said as she approached us. This could’ve waited, but at least she was following my instructions and being productive in the office until she was needed.

“Thank you,” I said curtly, letting her know I was still busy.

She hadn’t noticed Miguel, who was now seated inside the Bentley, and broke into a wide grin when she did. His smile for the car was now devoted to my daughter, as he tried to discreetly check out her body.

“That’ll be all, Paris. Go check on Orlando to see if he’s done back in my office,” I directed. She moved on, but not before eyeing Miguel a final time and flicking her hair. I could’ve sworn she had a little extra bounce in her step.

Once she disappeared around the corner, I leaned over and placed my arm across the roof of the Continental GT, peering inside.

“Miguel, that’s my daughter,” I offered, not sure if he was aware.

“Yes, sir,” Miguel responded, trying to be nonchalant about the obvious rise she’d gotten out of him a minute ago.

“This car, you can have one day. Matter of fact, once this deal goes through, maybe I’ll give it to you. We’ll call it a finder’s fee. But my daughter, you can’t have. Comprende?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” I said, looking him dead in the eye as I gave him a fatherly pat across his chest. “Because if you touch her, I’ll kill you.”



London



18


I walked out of Queens Village Montessori School, holding Mariah’s hand, styling and profiling like I owned the place. With the tuition I was paying them for Mariah to go to school there each week, I probably should have had Daddy buy the joint, because it would have been cheaper.

I’d picked her up a little early in hopes of using her as an excuse for stopping by the office and running into Harris. We’d been arguing nonstop since he found out that he wasn’t my first lover. I’d hurt his ego pretty bad. He hadn’t come home from the office before midnight for the past few nights, and he was out the door before seven every morning. I was hoping that bringing Mariah by the office to see him would be enough of an olive branch for us to at least talk. We had a fund-raising dinner with my parents in a few days, and I did not want my mother or father picking up on just how bad things were between us.

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books