The Family Business 3 (28 page)

When the sedan rolled to a stop in front of the school, I didn't wait for the driver to exit. Instead, I scrambled down the remaining brick steps and up to the car window where I tapped on it with my fingernails. Through the tint, I could make out a silhouette that had to be my daddy's.

As the passenger lowered the window, the driver exited and went about gathering my bags to place in the trunk.

“Hello, Paris,” the voice said, taking me aback that it wasn't my daddy's.

“Orlando,” I muttered dryly at the recognition of my brother, clad in a navy blue suit with shiny O.D. cufflinks that adorned his crisp white cuffs. “Where's Daddy?” I asked as he discarded a cigarette out the window while blowing smoke out his nose. Orlando was trying too hard to fit in with the cool and the chic out here. He had a woman seated on the side of him who looked to be Italian and probably didn't speak a lick of English. I guessed it was a high-priced whore whom he'd arranged to spend time with. I paid her no mind.

“Well, hello to you too,” he replied with a grin certainly meant to piss me off.

“What do you want?” I asked my brother as the driver slammed the Citroën's trunk shut then opened Orlando's door for him. Bitch was getting cold and they wanted to play games. As Orlando exited, he allowed the driver to place his wool overcoat on him like he was a stone-cold pimp. The brunette stayed inside the car, never daring to look at me.

“C'mon, take a walk with me,” Orlando said with a motion of his head.

The Citroën slowly trailed us in the distance as me and my brother strode along the lake on Quai Phillippe-Gaudet. As a little Smart car buzzed by, even I had to admire the postcard beauty of this town. But this was cutting into my free, time and Orlando wouldn't come all the way here just to take a stroll with me.

“Why aren't we on a G5 by now?” I pressed Orlando, who'd been much too quiet.

“Because you're not going back home.”

“Huh?” I said, stopping dead in my tracks. “Oh, that's some serious bullshit!”

“At least not this time,” he added, taking two more steps before looking back at me. “You know London's at the end of her pregnancy?” he said as both of us resumed walking, albeit much slower this time.

“Yeah. So?” I spat out, irritated at Orlando's mention of my older sister.

“Your sister's having some health issues, Paris. LC wants you to wait. Just stay away for a little while longer. Until the baby's delivered. Every time somebody mentions your name it's like her blood pressure spikes or something. You can see it in her eyes. Pop knows how y'all two are when you're together.”

“London's still upset about that ex of hers? Damn. That didn't mean shit and I was younger back then. 'Sides, she should be thanking me for saving her from his lame ass.”

“No. It's not just London's issue with you,” he said, pausing to ensure our car was still trailing us. His disdain and disgust for that whole mess back when I'd visited London in college, especially my part in it, still showed. “Things are also unsettled over the stuff that went down with Vegas.” He mentioned my second-favorite brother and the family peacekeeper. “Delicate times.”

“And you're just swooping in to take over for the throne, ain't ya?”

“Your feelings for me aside, you need to shut the fuck up and listen,” Orlando growled. “Instead of coming home this trip, we want you to stay in Europe. Got a resort for you in Spain. Five stars . . . just how you like. Sun and fun, so it's right up your alley. But try to stay low-key. We have enemies all over, so we don't need you broadcasting who you are. Reservations are under ‘Paris Wimberley.'”

“Spain, huh? And if I choose to go home instead?” I pushed, challenging my older brother. Fuck. I'd already planned my first twenty-four hours back home. Me and Rio were gonna get fucked up, go clubbin', then compare notes on the men we'd selected for the night. Thoughts of spring break were what got me through these last few months. But now?

“This was LC's decision. So he would be very disappointed in you,” Orlando replied, meaning Daddy would go ape shit and cut off my funds. Or worse. “Any more smart aleck questions?” my brother added after gauging the look of fear on my face.

“Yeah.”

“What now?” he said gruffly as he motioned our car over to pick us up.

“Can I get a new wardrobe?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

Orlando frowned, consternation etched on his face as he no doubt wanted to object. “No! You've supported the rising stock prices for high-end designers long enough. Deal with it,” he bellowed.

“Then you wouldn't mind me telling LC how you're spending your money on this trip . . . and at home. At least I have some material shit to show for my money. All you have are memories of nasty cum stains on some fake-ass titties bought by the last john,” I said, setting his ass straight.