I thought making us dinner and connecting on a physical level could help us get back on track, but Roman feels like he is drifting away from me more than ever and I don’t know how to bring him back to shore.
I briefly clean myself up and open the bathroom door to face him.
“That’s great,” I reply, lying through my teeth.
He watches me with a deafening scrutiny as I head back to the kitchen.
“That’s all you have to say about it?” he asks.
I wash my hands and lay his lukewarm salmon dinner on the table.
“What day do you start?”
8
ROMAN
For most of Knox’s life, including when he was in Elizabeth’s belly, I’ve worked from home. The new and improved Roman fields calls from potential high-end clients and if I think they’re a good fit, I pass the jobs on to my partners, the King brothers. Now that their brother Stone is also working full time with us, there’s no need for me to be present at every fix, but after the last few nights at home, I realize that Joseph may be on to something. I may frustrate Elizabeth, because I’m simply frustrated with myself.
“Yo, look who’s here in the motherfucking house!” Cutter exclaims in his usual over-the-top fashion as I walk into the office of Club Lotus for the first time in months. “What did we do to earn the distinct honor of your presence?”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought you might need me.”
“Need you?” Cutter laughs. “For what exactly?”
I realize he’s only breaking my balls, but the rhetorical question stings. I know I haven’t been as hands on this past year, but this is still my business. A business that my friends have deeply benefited from.
Camden stares silently at me, no doubt trying to read my body language. He’s the master of that. He always reads the room and assesses a situation before diving into it with words or action unlike his little brother. Stone doesn’t make any snide remarks either, but walks over to shake my hand.
“Good to see you, man.”
“Same.”
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Cutter asks. “You good? Everything okay with Elizabeth and Knox?”
“Would I be here if everything wasn’t okay with my family?” I respond, probably a little too defensively.
“Oh, true dat.” Cutter smiles. “I guess you wouldn’t.”
“Heard you’ve been to Milo’s club this week.”
Camden’s comment sounds judgmental as hell.
“For a drink.”
“And what magical liquor do they pour at Milo’s that you couldn’t get here?”
“Nothing but a twelve-year-old single malt whiskey with my name on it.”
Diving into each other’s private business is not something that we do, so they simply respect my answer and we move onto another topic of conversation.
“It’s good you’re here. We got that information you wanted on Elizabeth’s friend,” Stone says. “I followed her like you asked, and she’s definitely got a problem over there.”
Elizabeth explained that the woman she sent a thousand dollars to is an old college friend who needed the money to move because her landlord was harassing her, but later was planning on returning it because the prick wouldn’t accept her thirty-day notice. In fact, he only grew more aggressive after she tried submitting it. So when she asked me if her friend might have any legal recourse against the landlord, I assured her that involving the police wouldn’t be necessary and that I could handle it with a brief conversation. It’s just one less thing I need Duchess to worry about.
“What’s his deal?” I ask.
“He’s clean as a whistle. Credit score good. Owns three of the apartments in that community. No record. Not even a parking ticket,” Camden says.
