Absolute power, p.6
Absolute Power, page 6
“Where to?”
“Let’s go get you a driver’s license.”
“I don’t have the documents I need.”
Imani tapped on her purse. “I have them.”
“How did you get them?”
“Remember, I’m the one who put your stuff in storage.” She paused to observe the look on his face. “I took your important papers, and I put them in a safe-deposit box. I knew we’d need them today, so I got what we’d need from the bank last week.”
Brock took a second to think of all she had done for him. “Thank you for looking out for me while I was gone. I mean that.” Your father should have come to see me. Or better yet, your sexy ass could have come to see me. “I appreciate it.”
“I told you, this family owes you a debt that we can never pay. So it’s me that appreciates you.”
“We could go around this circle for the rest of the day.”
“We could, but let’s not.” She smiled, and he breathed it in.
When they got to the tax collector’s office for Brock to get his license, he took a number and they sat down to wait for it to be called. Whereas earlier that day they were searching for something to say, now they were chatting away about the legitimate business she ran and her expansion plans, as well as their mutual interest in guns. And, of course, there was running commentary about some of the people around them. Although she couldn’t see it yet, their body language said that Imani and Brock were connecting as she hoped they would.
“Where to?” Brock asked once he was licensed to drive.
“You know how to use a navigation system?”
“I haven’t been locked up that long,” he said and looked at the dashboard. “But why don’t you show me how to use yours?”
“Because you have no idea how to work it.”
“Right,” Brock said. They smiled at one another, and Imani showed him how to use the system as she set it for the Luxury Private Charters office on Heckscher Drive. The other company office was on the other side of the city, on Lakeside Drive, near the Ortega River.
“I imagine your father told them about his plans for me.”
“Apparently. He was hoping that you would get out and say, ‘Put me in coach.’”
“The plan was for me to pick up where I left off.”
She didn’t answer at first, because she wasn’t sure what her father’s plan for Brock was. Like her father, Imani wanted Brock to stick around, and even more so now that she was feeling him on more than just a physical level. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she finally said.
“What’s that?”
“He knew that when you got out, you would want to put it all behind you and say that you were done. But he thought that eventually, you would change your mind.” Imani told him this in the hope that it would draw him in.
“He told you this?”
“My father tells me everything I need to know to do what I have to do for our family.”
“I see,” Brock said. Because you run things in this camp. “So what do you think?” he asked, because since Imani ran things, her opinion was the only one that mattered.
“About what you’re gonna do?”
“Yes, what do you think I’m gonna do, boss?”
“I told you not to call me that,” she said, smiling, because she liked the way he looked and sounded when he said it. “I don’t think that you will change your mind.”
“Why not?”
“You impress me as a man who once you make up your mind, you stick to it . . . unless you see a reason to change your decision, of course.”
“Of course.”
Imani adjusted her position in the seat so she was looking at Brock. “But I do think that as time goes on, you’ll decide what you want to do and you’ll work yourself into it.” She turned away and looked out the window. “But I don’t know you as well as my father does.”
“That will change,” Brock said confidently, because he planned to get to know everything about her. “I mean, since I’ll be driving for you and your father for a while, we’ll get to know each other better.”
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you,” Imani said as they arrived at Luxury Private Charters of Jacksonville. “I think that I can learn a lot from you,” she added just to keep it professional.
Chapter Twelve
Luxury Private Charters was founded by Hughbert Mosley as Mosley Charter Service back in the days before Hughbert met Saulo Lorencio. When Mr. O took over the business in the eighties, he changed the company’s name to Luxury Private Charters of Miami and the expansion began. Under the old man, the charter business was nothing more than a front for other activities, but Mr. O had a vision and transformed the business into a customer-focused private jet, boat charter, and limousine service. When he married Julia, she took over as operations manager, and she formed several strategic relationships with the finest operators throughout the world to provide an extensive network of quality operators and give customers access to every size and type of private jet, both domestic and international.
But that was before they got run out of Miami and had to sell the business. Now that they had relocated to Jacksonville, which wasn’t as big a market as Miami, Imani’s focus was on rebuilding the business. She still had access to the network of operators that her mother had built, so they had been able to transition their international business. With that established business still in place, Imani had taken some of the proceeds from the sale of their Miami business and bought two Cessna Citation M2 jets for use in both businesses. Then she had acquired a couple of yachts, got them in the water and earning, and then she had bought a fleet of limousines. Her current focus was on the feasibility of buying another jet for local charters, though she toyed with the idea of sticking with the established network of operators to provide aircraft for that area of the business.
When they arrived at the office building, Brock got out and opened Imani’s door. She held out her hand for him to help her out of the car. He took her hand and felt its warmth and didn’t want to let go. Imani allowed her hand to linger in his as she took a step away from the car and walked alongside Brock, fighting the urge to keep holding his hand.
You’re trippin’, she thought as he opened the front door and held it open for her.
“Good morning, Imani,” the receptionist said as she came in with Brock.
“Morning, Serena.” Imani looked around the room, and seeing that they had everybody’s attention, she decided to save some time. “Everybody, this is Brock Whitehall. He’ll be driving for my father and me.”
“Hello, everybody,” Brock said and followed Imani to her office.
“Hello again, Mr. Whitehall,” a woman said when she nearly bumped into him in the hallway.
“Good morning, Ginger,” Brock said, surprised to see her in a striped linen shirtdress and not in her driver’s uniform.
Again? “That’s right. You picked him up from the airport,” Imani said. “Anyway, this is Ginger Wright. She’s our fleet manager.”
“I thought you were a driver,” Brock said.
“I started out as a driver, and I love to drive, so every once in a while, I’ll take the VIP clients. And you, Mr. Whitehall, are the very definition of a VIP.”
“Okay, enough of that,” Imani said.
Knowing what a man-eater Ginger could be, Imani took Brock’s hand in hers, and she pulled him into her office. Brock felt a chill come over him when she touched him.
“Good to see you again, Ginger,” he called, and Imani closed the door behind them.
Imani had just sat down at her desk when Hareem burst into her office. He knew this got on her nerves, but that was why he did it. And she would always say, “Don’t you know how to knock?” as her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t you know how to knock, Hareem?”
“I do,” he said and tapped on the door. “Happy now?”
“What do you want, Hareem?” Imani asked.
“I need to talk to you,” Hareem said, and he glanced over at Brock, who sat in the chair in front of Imani’s desk.
“Hareem Mosley, Brock Whitehall,” Imani said. Hareem had been hearing larger-than-life stories about Brock ever since he’d come to live with his father.
“So you out, huh?” Hareem was not impressed.
“Free man and talking about it,” Brock said, and they shook hands.
“Would you excuse us for a minute please, Brock?” Imani asked angrily.
Brock stood up. “No problem.” He left her office and closed the door behind him.
“What’s he gonna be doing?” Hareem asked, because he didn’t need or want Brock in his business.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Me? What I do this time?”
“Me and Daddy both told you to make Diamond come to you.”
“I am. I went by the house this morning to talk to Daddy about it, like he told me to, but he was asleep, so I didn’t bother him!” he shouted, but Imani shook her head and kept her cool.
“Then tell me why I woke up to news about a house on fire and a triple murder?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hareem said, smiling slyly. “I was with a lady friend of mine last night.”
“You really do think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
Hareem said nothing.
“Would you like me to tell you which of your people were involved?” she said.
“Go ahead, Ms. Know-It-All.”
“Pyromaniac Martel was calling the shots, and Jamarcus and Devonte were with him.”
Since she was absolutely right—Martel was a pyromaniac, had been since they were kids, and Jamarcus and Devonte were there with him—Hareem said nothing.
“I told you once and I’m gonna tell you again, be careful not to start a war that you are not ready to fight.”
Chapter Thirteen
“And I said I didn’t have shit to do with it!” Hareem shouted and stormed out of her office and past Brock, who was talking to Ginger.
“Don’t mind him.” Ginger giggled alluringly as Hareem marched out of the building and slammed the front door. “That happens all the time.”
After Hareem left the office, he got in his Dodge Charger Hellcat and sped away. Although he loved her and she loved him, there were days when he couldn’t stand Imani, and this was one of those days. He hated that she treated him like he was stupid and didn’t know what he was doing. As far as he was concerned, he knew exactly what he was doing. But there was no talking to Imani, and his father wasn’t much better.
“If they knew what they were fuckin’ doing, we wouldn’t have got run the fuck outta Miami!” Hareem shouted at the top of his lungs as he sped up Heckscher Drive. “I’ma do this my way and show both of them that I’m smart! Smarter than her ass!”
His phone rang at that very moment, and he looked down at the display. It was Imani calling to smooth things over, like she always did.
“Fuck you, Imani! I got shit to do,” he muttered and kept driving toward I-295.
A few minutes later, he dialed Martel’s number. His right-hand man picked up right away.
“Where she at?” Hareem asked, wasting no time. He was looking for his ex-girlfriend, Lucinda Thompson, whom everybody called Loonie. She was the current girlfriend of Kevin Hedrick, another of Diamond’s dealers.
“She’s at Adventure Landing, by the beach,” Martel reported.
“You got eyes on her?”
“Nope. But Devonte’s on her.”
“All right,” Hareem said, and then he ended the call and called Devonte. When Devonte answered on the second ring, Hareem said, “Where she at?”
“Playing miniature golf.”
“She alone?”
“Nah. She’s with some other women. They all got kids with them,” Devonte informed Hareem.
“Kids’ playdate, huh? I’ll be through there,” he said and ended the call.
When he got to I-295, Hareem got on and headed for Beach Boulevard, on his way to Adventure Landing, a small amusement park that featured such attractions as Shipwreck Island Waterpark, miniature golf, laser tag, and the Wacky Worm Roller Coaster. There were batting cages, an arcade, and go-karts, and you could even feed alligators at Gator Alley.
After Hareem pulled in the parking lot at Adventure Landing and parked, he called Devonte once more. Devonte picked up.
“Where you at?” Hareem asked as he got out of the car.
“Still at miniature golf.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Hareem said and headed that way. When he got there and found Devonte, he immediately asked, “Where she at?”
Devonte pointed.
There she was, at the fourteenth hole, with her mini club in hand, lining up a shot. He looked around for a woman with a baby carriage. There were a couple of carriages, but one woman in particular was holding on to the handle of her carriage like it was a matter of life and death, while the other was sitting on a bench, with the carriage next to her.
That’s her baby, Hareem thought, staring at the first carriage.
“That’s her,” Hareem said aloud, his voice low, and then he casually worked his way over to a spot from where he could get a look at the baby.
Look at her. She is beautiful, Hareem thought when he caught a glimpse of the baby.
“Hareem? What are you doing here?” Loonie asked when she finally caught sight of him.
“I came looking for you.”
Her fists hit her hips. “How did you know I was here?”
“I guess you forgot, I know everything.”
“Right. You probably got Martel or somebody following me,” Loonie said and got her carriage from the woman who was watching the baby for her.
“And what if I do have somebody following you? This is the only way I can get a chance to talk to you.”
Loonie smiled. “What you want to talk to me about?”
Hareem pointed to the carriage. “I want to talk about her.”
“What about her?”
“About her being my daughter.”
Silence fell between the two of them. When Hareem smiled; so did Loonie.
Exasperated, Hareem broke the silence by saying, “What? Did you think I wouldn’t find out, just because you ran home to your mom’s in Palatka?”
Loonie smiled again. “What makes you think she’s yours?”
“Look at her. She looks just like me,” Hareem insisted.
“Just because she’s light-skinned don’t make her yours,” Loonie said and started walking. But Loonie knew that the baby was his daughter.
Hareem caught up with her and pointed at the baby as they walked. “You’re right. But what we can do is go to Any Lab Test Now on Atlantic, and we can settle this.”
Loonie looked at him, Hareem looked at her, and each seemed happy to be with the other as they walked together.
“What happened to us, Loonie?”
Loonie stopped, the blissful look on her face disappeared, and she faced him. “You started fuckin’ that skinny bitch, Cynthia, behind my back. Or you were fuckin’ me behind her back? I don’t know. Either way, you’re a liar and a cheater.”
Hareem hung his head. “You’re right. I did that, and I’m sorry. Sorry because I let you get away.”
“You didn’t let me do shit, nigga. I left your lying ass.” She went and sat down on a nearby bench.
At the time, Loonie had thought that she was falling in love with Hareem. She had thought that in him, she’d found somebody that understood her and accepted her for who she was, a somewhat high-strung, yet easygoing woman who was sometimes silly, but serious minded and determined. She’d liked that he was not trying to make her into the woman he wanted her to be. He had had her wide open for him when she found out about Cynthia, and that was why it had hurt so bad.
Hareem came and sat next to her, and she looked at him. Although Loonie still felt the hurt, seeing him again after all the time that had passed let her know that she still had feelings for him.
“I found out I was pregnant about a month after we broke up,” Loonie said as Hareem looked between her and the baby.
“That why you ran to Palatka?” Hareem asked as he waved to the baby.
“I ran to Palatka to get away from your lying, cheating ass,” Loonie said angrily, and then she paused, because her anger served no purpose at that point. She took a breath. “But by the time that I found out that I was pregnant, I had already gotten with Kevin. When I found out, I told him, and he got all excited and shit, thinking it was his baby, so I just went with it.”
“But you know that’s my baby, right?”
“We still getting a DNA test,” Loonie said quickly. “But yeah, she’s your daughter.”
“What’s her name?”
“Her name is Omeika Alondra Thompson,” she said, leaning forward to reach into the carriage and pick up Omeika.
“That’s a pretty name,” Hareem said, thinking that he was glad that Loonie hadn’t given his baby another man’s name, as she handed him his daughter. He was instantly overwhelmed by emotions that he had never felt before. Hareem was holding his daughter, blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh, and he couldn’t be happier.
“This is your real daddy, Omeika,” Loonie said to the six-month-old baby girl.
“Hi, Omeika. I’m your daddy,” Hareem said as his phone rang. Hareem held Omeika in one arm while he got out his phone and looked at the display. “I need to take this,” he said, and Hareem handed Omeika back to her mother. “What’s up?”
“You said to let you know if Marko came up short again this week,” Chub said. “So I’m letting you know before I go kill this nigga.”
“Hold up. Where you at?”
“At the crib.”
“Sit tight. I’m coming.” Hareem was about to end the call, but then he added, “And, Chub, that means you don’t do shit until I get there. Understand?”
“I got you, Hareem. I’ll be right here waiting for you,” he said, and Hareem ended the call.
He looked at Loonie. “I gotta go handle some shit. But I still want to talk to you. Can you get away tonight?”
