Orlando
19
I hadn’t been back to my apartment since that night with Ruby. Not that I hadn’t wanted to, but I’d been busting my ass day and night trying to get a handle on things and prove myself to the old man and my siblings. I’d completely forgotten about doing anything for myself. That in itself wasn’t necessarily a problem, except that I’d been thinking about Ruby almost every day. I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head, so with the distribution deal with Alejandro well in hand, I had called Remy and set something up to relieve my sexual tension.
“We’ve been expecting your call,” Remy had told me through the phone receiver. “We haven’t heard from you in quite a while. You’re breaking routine. That’s not like you,” he noted. “I was afraid you might have gone to another service.”
“No, no, I’m very happy with your service. I’ve just been very busy.”
“Ah, yes, the new promotion at work. How is it going?”
“It hasn’t completely begun yet. I’m still in training, but even that’s not easy.”
“I see. Well, maybe we can make you feel better....” he’d said and then we proceeded to make arrangements.
When I strolled into the condo, the aroma coming from the kitchen was teasing my nose, much like how, in the next hour or so, the cook would be teasing my dick. I know it might seem selfish of me to be out whoring around in my condo when my family’s business was in trouble, but nobody had put in more work than me this week. I was doing the best I could, and consequently, I hadn’t had a good night’s rest, eaten a decent meal, or screwed in more than two weeks, and I was bound and determined to kill three birds with one stone that night.
I quickly tried to erase the self-serving thoughts from my mind. Pussy should never interfere with blood—although I’d be a lying bastard if I said a little pussy wouldn’t give me just the boost I needed right about now. After all, what’s more rejuvenating and energizing than a little pussy? Hell, a big pussy. And thanks to Maria and Remy, whose services I could always count on, that was just what was about to go down.
“Dinner is served.”
Just the words I needed to hear as I turned my attention to the antidote to cure my day’s woes. Seeing her standing there in nothing but stilettos and a black-and-white lacy apron would have made any man forget his troubles and get lost in the sheer anticipation of what was to come. But I knew what was to come. I’d been there before, to that place that washes all a man’s troubles away just long enough for him to recoup and prepare for the next day’s concerns.
“I hope you like.” Her accent was so sexy. She licked her lips, batted her eyes, and beckoned with her index finger, luring me into the kitchen. Even though I’d been there before and almost knew what to expect, I followed.
“Allow me to get your chair, Mr. Orlando,” she said, then proceeded to pull out my chair.
I sat and gave the spread on the table the once-over. I’d eaten an identical meal before. I hated repeating meals almost as much as seeing the same girl twice. Had I done the right thing, letting Remy send me this girl, or should I have listened to my gut?
The hell with your rule
, my conscience had tried to tell me.
Ten minutes into our dinner, it got to the point where it all seemed like déjà vu. I wasn’t even taking part in the conversation anymore. Just nodding.
“Is everything okay?” The poor girl almost looked offended that I had only picked at my meal. “The rice not good? You like sweet and sour chicken, no?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to make jerk chicken, would you?” I looked up at the Asian beauty and then at the native cuisine that sat on the table. I meant to keep my laughter inside, but it seeped out. Now she wasn’t
almost
offended; she was offended. I knew this because even though I had absolutely no fucking idea what she was saying in her native tongue, I could tell she was cussing me out.
Once I was able to contain my laughter, I knew I had to make nice with her. The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt her feelings. Still, I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t really her fault, I suppose, but all of a sudden everything seemed so redundant. I’d never been with this particular Asian girl before, but I’d been with plenty just like her. Plenty who looked like her, talked like her, even cooked that same damn meal like her. The meal was a dead giveaway that none of them really knew how to prepare their native cuisine. Sweet and sour chicken? Come on. Even I could pull off that entrée.
“Look, I’m sorry ...” I searched my mind for her name.
“Candy,” she replied when she saw me grasping at straws.
I spared her feelings by suppressing my laugh this time. Candy—so typical. Remy had even sent me another “Candy” before. I was beginning to realize just how I’d been fooling myself, thinking that my second-date rule made any difference. It didn’t matter that I never saw the same girl twice. No matter how I looked at it, it was the same broad, different name. Or in Candy’s case, same name.
Ruby was the exception. I’d never met any woman like her before. I had never even given one of Remy’s girls a second thought after our night together, but I’d given Ruby more than just a second thought. I’d given her a fraction of my mind, and in order to reclaim my full sanity, I knew exactly what I had to do.
“Candy, you are a wonderful, beautiful young lady. And a hell of a cook, I’m sure.” I had to soften the blow, didn’t I? I had to place a soft pillow over her head before I pulled the trigger to blow her brains out, so to speak. “But this isn’t gonna work.”
“Save it, asshole.” Her accent was gone. She stood up from the table in a huff. “I don’t need to hear the speech about how it’s not me, it’s you, and you don’t know if you can do this, blah, blah, blah.” She slammed her chair into the table. “And Maria said you were one of the good ones. Huh. You waste time is what you do.” Her accent was back—a little. “You still pay. Just know that,” was the last thing she said before she exited the kitchen to go change.
“I’ll call Maria and let her know to send the car service for you,” I shot over my shoulder as she proceeded to curse me out.
The escort service was one of the first numbers, after my family members’, that I’d programmed into speed dial when I got my new phone. I pulled it out now to make the call.
“Orlando. How’s our favorite client?”
“Remy, my man,” I replied. “It’s all good, but look, check this out. I’m going to need you to send the car for Candy a little earlier than scheduled.”
“Oh?” He sounded disappointed, nervous even. “Is everything okay? Was something wrong with your girl?” I could hear him flipping pages in the background. “She wasn’t a repeat, was she? Damn it, I told Maria to always make sure you never get the same girl twice. Look, I’ll send you someone else. Just let me—”
“No, listen, Remy. Everything is fine. Candy is fine. She wasn’t a repeat. You guys are on the J-O-B,” I explained. “But, Remy, if you don’t mind, you can send me someone else.”
His voice was now a mixture of excitement and relief. “No problem. We have this half-African princess that does this thing with her—”
“Look, Remy, I’m sure she’s the finest the motherland has to offer, but I kind of have a special request.”
“Anything, anybody for you. Just name it.”
I couldn’t believe I was about to say the words that eased out of my mouth. “Ruby. Send me Ruby.”
There was crazy silence on the line, and it made me uncomfortable. Finally Remy said, “But you never see the—”
I had to cut him off. I didn’t have an appetite for my own words. “Remy, man, when the driver comes for Candy, just make sure he drops off Ruby.”
I thought everything was settled, until Remy informed me, “Ruby is no longer with us.”
It took a few seconds for his words to register before I could ask, “What? Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, Orlando, but you were Ruby’s first and last. She said this line of work didn’t suit her, after all.”
I felt ... hell, I didn’t know how I felt, but it wasn’t good. “Remy, I have a craving for the Caribbean beauty by the name of Ruby. You get paid to cure my cravings. Need I search for a new chef?”
“No, no, no! That won’t be necessary. I’m sure we have another island girl who will suit your needs just—”
I was cutting Remy off for what was hopefully the last time. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, Remy. I want Ruby. Get me Ruby. Money is and never has been an issue.”
There was a sigh from Remy. “I’ll do my best, Orlando.” He didn’t sound too convincing.
“Do better than your best, Remy. Get Ruby here by tomorrow.” I ended the call, knowing that if Remy didn’t make this happen, I’d be cutting him off, all right—and hopefully finding Ruby on my own.
LC
20
My wife walked into my office and sat down on the small sofa, smiling for what seemed like the first time in weeks. You could always tell just how the Duncan family was doing by her mood, and this day, well, this day was good all the way around. We’d gotten our first shipment of cars from Alejandro earlier that day, and my ’57 Roadster was due at our Long Island City warehouse sometime the next day.
To top that off, Chippy and I were going to be receiving a lifetime appreciation award from First Jamaica Ministries for all the charity work she’d done for underprivileged children. I really didn’t want to take any of the credit, since all I did was write a check. She and London had done the work, but she insisted that I accept with her because we were a team.
“Daddy, you have a phone call on your private line,” Paris said from my office door.
“Thanks, baby girl.” I reached for the phone.
“Paris,” Chippy called, giving our daughter a disapproving look. This prompted me to hesitate before hitting the talk button to connect the call. “Don’t you know how to use the intercom?”
“Yeah, Ma, I do,” Paris confessed, “but the view’s so nice at this end of the hall today, I decided to walk down and tell Daddy about his call.”
Both Chippy and I were shaking our heads as Paris walked slowly back down the hall. We heard her stop at the next office, where Orlando was having a meeting with Miguel. He’d flown in from California the night before to supervise the first shipment of cars and to make sure the Roadster was delivered unharmed. It was pretty obvious that he was the view Paris was talking about. I just didn’t understand why my daughter kept putting herself out there like some common slut. She was by far the most beautiful of all my children and could have any man of her choosing if she decided to settle down.
Frustrated, I hit the button, connecting the call.
“LC Duncan,” I spoke into the phone.
“Greetings, LC, my friend.” It was Alejandro. I would know his raspy voice and thick accent anywhere. “I call with great thanks for the payment, and with well wishes for our continued business. I also would thank you for the hospitality you have shown Miguel. He’s mentioned quite often what a wonderful time he has had in your city. In fact, it was his diligence that insured that the Roadster will be delivered tomorrow.”
I had to smile. Miguel must have really wanted that Bentley I hinted at during his first trip to New York. That was a good thing, though. The more he was in tune to my needs and wants, the better. Now, if I could only keep him away from my daughter.
“Glad to hear that, Alejandro. Even though things have been strained between us, I’m glad we’re able to do business again,” I stated in the spirit of the moment.
“As am I, my friend. Let this be a new beginning. No longer competitors, but partners of a sort. I look forward to making much money with you, my friend.”
“I’ll toast to that.”
“Good. Maybe we can share a bottle or two of some of my best tequila. If I can get you back out here to L.A., mi amigo, maybe I’ll arrange for some sexy ladies, like we used to do. I remember that time with me and you and those four señoritas from Cozumel. Those were the days, huh?” He laughed loudly.
I glanced at Chippy, happy that I didn’t have this on speakerphone. “I’ve gotten a little too old for that, Alejandro, but thank you for the offer. These days, I’m just a ‘community’ sort of guy who enjoys time with his family. I don’t really travel much anymore outside of New York. Like how you don’t leave the West Coast, eh?”
“You got me there. I guess at the end of the day, we’re both just kings captive in our own little castles.”
“Good way of putting it,” I commented, thinking of the world beyond my castle walls that awaited me and Chippy down in Florida. “We’ll talk further once we take delivery from your men.”
“We most certainly will. Best wishes to your family, my friend,” Alejandro stated, presumably with other thoughts kept to himself for another time.
“Yours also,” I replied, then disconnected the call.
“Do you trust Alejandro?” Chippy asked.
“Have I ever, sweetheart?” I answered. “You know how it is. Same as it’s always been. Every man for himself, or in this case, every family.”
“Except the competition has never been this fierce. There’s no loyalty in business, and you’re not the sexy young man I fell in love with.”
I chuckled at her latter comment. “There was somebody before me, and there will be somebody after me. Alejandro can say whatever he wants. He has plans to take over our territory. He’s just using this as a way to get his foot in the door. That’s why I’ve been readying Orlando.”
“But Orlando’s not you. He’s his own man. He’s going to want to do things his own way.”
“And he’ll have that freedom. But if he plans on making wholesale changes ... too much, too soon, he’ll have to answer to me. A lot of people, beyond our immediate family, depend on what we’ve established here, sweetheart. This isn’t just a business.”
“I know, baby,” Chippy stated as I stood up to give her a hug. “But to say I would mind having you all to myself would be a lie.”
Our embrace was cut short by Paris, coming to inform me of a call from Harris.
“Sorry to bother you, LC,” Harris said when I answered. “But did you take care of London’s problem?”
“No. I never heard from her,” I replied. “But I’ve been on the phone with Alejandro in L.A. Maybe she spoke with Junior.”
“No, I called him first. He never heard from her either. Shit.”
“Is something wrong? What was she supposed to talk to me about?”
“Oh ... nothing major. She had a flat tire and I had a meeting, so I couldn’t get to her in time. I told her to call for someone over there to come out.”
Just as I became concerned, I heard the familiar laughter of my granddaughter coming from the showroom floor.
“Was Mariah with her, Harris?”
“Yes. Why?”
“They’re here. No need to worry anymore,” I assured him.
“Good,” he said with a deep sigh over the phone. “Just have her call me later.”
London came down the hall, walking past the window to my office. She looked unfazed to my eye, which made me feel better. As the door cracked open, Mariah stormed in ahead of her.
“I see you, Grandpa!” Mariah shrieked, full of youthful innocence and glee. She ran behind my desk and jumped into my outstretched arms. As I hugged her, I reflected on how grateful I was that London had provided me with such a lovely and caring grandchild, my only one. In stepping down from her responsibilities around here and marrying Harris, London had given me an even greater gift than her mere talents.
“Is everything okay? I just got off the phone with Harris,” I said to London.
“Oh. Yeah. Everything’s fine. I had a flat—my front tire. I have the spare on now. One of your men is going to put on a new tire,” my daughter answered as she embraced her mother.
“Mommy had two guys help her. But the stinky, dirty one left,” Mariah said, smiling at me with a fresh missing baby tooth evident.
“Is that so?” I looked to London to elaborate.
“Uh-huh,” my granddaughter continued, volunteering what she knew in her own unique way. “He hurt his mouth and went home. And the nice one that Mommy likes stayed and put on the good wheel for us.”
“Oh, really?”
Chippy asked this time, with a sly grin on her lips.
“Just somebody who helped, that’s all,” London replied with an equally sly look adorning her face. This wasn’t like London. Paris, maybe, but definitely not London.