“Tell me you have a plan.”
“Plan for what?”
We pulled up to our destination and I fixed my jacket, making sure everything was in place. The driver walked around to our side of the car to open the door.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Kace said. “Do you have a plan to win Goldie back?”
The door to the car opened, and I was greeted with an onslaught of press. Before stepping out of the car, I turned to Kace and said, “I always have a plan.”
Adjusting my tie, I stepped out of the car with Kace following me close behind as I weaved my way through the press, who found it necessary to shove microphones in my face every chance they got.
When George called me this morning about a press conference for Lot 17, I was more than accommodating because I wanted everyone to know about my plans for the space. What I wasn’t looking forward to were the questions involving my father and Rex Titan.
After the police invaded Masquerade, they were granted access to the inner workings of their business, their books, and everything involved with their bank accounts. Some city elites were brought down, and their reputations were tarnished, but what I wasn’t expecting was for Rex and my dad to have a lot more hidden in their closets than I thought.
When I sent Zane into Masquerade, I knew we were going to expose the prostitution ring Rex and my dad were running, but I never expected for them to be exposed for embezzlement and a grand Ponzi scheme that didn’t only affect some of the people of New Orleans, but also citizens around the country.
The findings were complete news to me, but when I thought about it, it all made sense. My dad wasn’t good at managing his money, which is why he was so desperate to obtain Lot 17; it was going to set up a lucrative business for him, using the people’s money and the business model of the Lafayette Club, but with a perverted and highly illegal twist.
Investigations were still underway, but for right now, my dad and Rex were facing charges for prostitution, embezzlement, and fraudulent investments. Pretty much, they were sitting pretty on some prison time. I was looking forward to the day they would pay their much-deserved dues.
George met me in the back of the room where the press conference was being held. We shook hands, and I could tell by the small smirk on his face that he was a very happy man.
“George, you’re looking well,” I greeted him.
“Mr. Colby, good to see you on such a joyous occasion.” He glanced over and saw Kace and stuck out his hand. “Mr. Haywood, a pleasure.”
“Hi, George. Good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still hanging around with this guy,” Kace said, while gripping my shoulder.
“I could say the same about you,” he smirked.
“He pays me. Have to milk the cow as much as I can.”
“Milk the cow?” I asked, while raising my eyebrow.
Kace just shrugged, making George chuckle to himself.
“It’s good to see a friendship likes yours stay intact. I’ve seen so many friendships dissolve throughout the years.”
“I’m too invested by now to let go,” Kace responded, being more playful than usual.
“Don’t let him fool you,” I cut in. “The man is obsessed with me.”
George threw his head back and laughed. “Never a moment with Jett Colby when he isn’t full of himself.”
“Why, George, was that a dig at my personality?” I acted offended.
He patted my cheek and said, “Never, my boy, only affection.”
“Mr. Colby, are you ready?” someone asked, who was helping run the press conference.
Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head and walked toward the lights of the stage.
The room was full of press with cameras, microphones, voice recorders, and columnists with poised pens, just waiting to take notes and ask questions. They looked like hungry vultures, and I was about to feed them the meal of the century.
George informed me before the conference that I was supposed to address the press with my own statement, and then take questions afterwards. It would be pretty simple, and thankfully I was seasoned when it came to handling the press, so if they started to become too invasive, I would be cutting the press conference short. There was only so much I divulged, and right now, I knew my personal life was up for attack, since my father was looking at such serious charges.
The room fell silent as I approached the podium. Lights shone down on me, blocking out most of the faces in the crowd, making it easier to recite the speech I’d spent the morning memorizing.
“Good afternoon. Thank you all for taking time out of your day to be here with me. As you all know, Lot 17 is a prime location in this great city of New Orleans. I’ve been very zealous at making it known that this property has been of great interest to me. Last week, I was awarded the property through a bidding process and can now tell you how ecstatic I am about acquiring the property. I am known in this city for my real estate investments and business prowess, but I’m afraid I have been quiet when it comes to my philanthropic work. I’ve done this because I don’t believe in gloating about my charity work. I am in a position where I can spread my wealth, and I believe doing so in silence is a proper way to conduct business, but there are times when you need to talk about such charity work to bring the community together, to make the citizens of New Orleans a cohesive force. That being said, I’m here to announce my plans for Lot 17.”
Taking a second to let my words sink in, I paused and then continued.
“Lot 17 will belong to the community, to the children of New Orleans, to those in need of second chances. I plan on making a park with ball fields, soccer fields, walking paths, and a community center, where we will offer free classes ranging from exercise to art for members of the center. Membership will be free to the citizens of New Orleans; all we ask is that you keep the parks clean, you encourage each other, and stay positive. We want to encourage kids and adults to explore different avenues of recreation, whether it be cooking, painting, or even joining a team. It’s time to give back to the community, the same community who raised me from a baby to the man I am today. I want every family in this city, no matter their social standing or race, to have a chance to grow and experience life in a way they might not have without the community center. I am announcing the plans for Lot 17 because I want to engage the community, ask for volunteers, and help spread the word about the new opportunities we will be offering to the city of New Orleans. Thank you for listening to me today; are there any questions?”
The room erupted as press raised their hands and shouted out their questions. The moderator of the conference called on individuals to ask questions.
The first question came from a brown haired man with glasses. “How will this community center be funded?”
“Funding won’t be an issue…that is for me to worry about, and me alone.”
“Does that mean you will be funding it yourself?”
Annoyed with his question, I answered curtly. “Yes, next question.”
“Mr. Colby, when do you foresee the community center opening?”
“By the end of the year, hopefully by fall. I’ve been in communication with multiple contractors in the city, making sure they know what kind of priority Lot 17 will be. They are well aware of my time line. I have full confidence we will be seeing a community center soon.”
The moderator called on an elderly gentleman in the front, who had been chewing on his pen for the whole conference.
“Mr. Colby, can you release a statement on the investigation your father is going through?”
That was quick, I thought to myself, as I geared up for the question.
“My father and I have been estranged for years now. He’s conducted business in a way I didn’t want to emulate, so when I was eighteen, I separated myself from him. I believe in the judicial system and know that if the findings in the way my father has conducted business are correct, then I expect for him to be punished appropriately.”
“D
id you know about his embezzling and Ponzi scheme?”
“Like I said, my father and I have been estranged since I turned eighteen. I was unaware of his financial status and the inner workings of his business. Next question.”
“Mr. Colby, you are known to have a strangled relationship with a Mr. Rex Titan. Are you happy to see the recent findings of the way he conducted business?”
“I find it improper to talk negatively about relationships I have with other individuals in a public setting.”
A blonde raised her hand and asked, “Is it true you and Miss Keylee Zinc are engaged?” The local gossip magazine. I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“Miss Zinc is a wonderful woman, but we are just friends. Any rumors about Miss Zinc being connected with me romantically are just that, rumors. Our relationship is a strictly platonic one.”
“Are you in a relationship with someone else?” she asked, pressing her luck.
“I don’t believe that is the media’s business. I am a private man and would like to stay that way. If there aren’t any other questions about Lot 17, then I believe I will end this press conference.”
Before I ended, I answered a few more questions about Lot 17, and then thanked the press one more time before taking off. Kace stood on the side of the stage, waiting for me, with his hands in his suit pockets and a smirk on his face.
“Community center?” he asked with a questioning brow. “I thought you were just going to make a park.”
“Plans changed,” I said, while I thanked the assistant who handed me a bottle of water. Both Kace and I walked toward the waiting town car, said our goodbyes to George, and took off.
“When did your plans change?” he asked, once we were settled in the car.
“The moment I lost Goldie. I knew I had to make some changes in the way I conducted business. The Lafayette Club isn’t the same without her, and I need to give the girls other opportunities.”
“What do you mean?” Kace asked, concerned.
“I’m closing the club.”
“What about the girls?”
“They will work at the center, teaching the children and families, while they still pursue their education. I don’t want to expose them any longer. With this new business venture, I can have the members of the Lafayette Club become donors to the center. We will still allow meetings to be conducted in the Toulouse Room, but the girls won’t be performing anymore. Those days are over.”
“I see,” Kace said, while looking out the window. His silence said it all; he was worried about his place in the club.
“Don’t worry, if you accept, I would love for you to manage the center and offer exercise classes to the community, including boxing.”
Kace’s head whipped around and his jaw was slack as he stared at me for a second.
“Are you serious?”
“Very much so. Your talent and services are better used in that capacity. You have so much to offer young teenage boys who might be lost. I have the utmost confidence in the fact that you can make an impact on these boys.”
“Wow,” Kace responded, while rubbing his chin. “I didn’t see that coming. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll take the job.”
“How the hell can I say no to that?” he smiled. Silence fell between us as Kace looked at me seriously. “I have to say, Jett, I couldn’t be more appreciative of your friendship. You’ve been there with me through everything and never once judged me. I would be lost without you.”
“I feel the same,” I admitted. Kace nodded and smirked. I jabbed his shoulder and said, “I can’t believe you were going to cry back there.”
“I wasn’t going to cry,” Kace replied, offended.
“Oh, please, I saw the tears in your eyes.”
“Fuck you,” he laughed. “God, you’re a dick.”
Laughing, I nodded, as I looked out the window. This was my city, the place I was born and raised, the place where I grew into a man, the place I met the love of my life, and now that I’d settled my business affairs, it was time I settled my personal ones, because to hell if I was going to let go of the best thing that ever happened to me.
20
“Uptown Funk”
Goldie
“No, you’re getting it all wrong. You have to bend first, stick your ass out, and then snap up,” I instructed both Diego and Blane, who were standing in front of me with giddy looks on their faces.
“I don’t get it,” Diego said. “Can you show us one more time?”
“It’s not like you’re making a penis out of a can of worm meat and dental floss,” I said, while getting in position.
“Worm meat? Is that even something?” Blane asked, his voice thick with his Australian accent.
“Possibly,” I giggled. “Would you eat it?”
“What would I get if I ate it?” Blane asked, eyeing me up and down.
“What do you want?” I said, losing my balance; damn alcohol was going to my head.
“I think you know what I want,” Blane replied, while licking his lips.
Oh, fuck, did I know. The man had been relentless ever since he found out Jett and I were no longer together. He made his feelings for me quite clear and wasn’t shy about them. He said when he knew I was still attached to someone, he respected my space, but apparently to him, I was fair game now.
Diego had been more than accommodating when it came to helping us both out. I went back to assisting Diego at his club, like I had before I left to try to save my relationship with Jett, what little help that was. The rooms were almost fully painted and my work was really coming together nicely with the overall theme. Diego was pleased, and that was all that mattered to me.
I’ve kept to myself most of the time, because frankly, I didn’t want the boys to see me cry over a guy who I wasn’t sure ever really truly cared about me. It was embarrassing. But Diego only let my personal exile last a couple of days; he didn’t feel that wallowing in self-pity was a productive way to conduct my days, so that’s why I currently found myself almost twisted off my ass, teaching Blane and Diego how to pole dance.
“Back off, Blane,” Diego said, while pushing him away. “If Goldie is going to bone anyone here, it’s going to be me. We have history,” Diego winked at me.
“There is no way she would fuck you,” Blane laughed. “Not with that prissy dancing you do around stage.”
“Prissy?” Diego asked while standing tall.
Prissy was the last word I would use to describe Diego. For Cirque du Diable, Diego was the ringmaster, the man who sat center stage, directing all the acts that were conducted. He was the grand MC with a body that would make your lady folds weep, eyes that would have you orgasming on the spot, and a kind of control that would have you dropping to your knees, asking him what he wanted.
Blane gestured toward Diego and said, “Yeah, you’re prissy.”
“Watch it, bro, your livelihood is being held on by a thread right now, and I can fucking snip it so fast,” Diego said with a grin.
Nodding, Blane said, “Aw, I see. So you’re going to hold the fact that you gave me a job, a fucking awesome job, by the way, and a place to stay over my head?”
“Pretty much,” Diego laughed.
“As long as I know up front,” Blane laughed as well. “Still, doesn’t mean you get to fuck Goldie. She’s up for grabs. That’s how I see it.”
“There is a no fraternizing with other employees policy here,” Diego stated, while crossing his arms.
“Soo, wouldn’t that mean you’re shit out of luck as well?”
“I’m exempt,” Diego smiled.
“No fucking way. If you’re banging the employees, then so can I. It’s only fair. Don’t you want a fair work environment for everyone? Make your employees happy?”
“Not really. I’m a slave driver. I don’t want anyone happy unless my dick is inside of them,” Diego winked at me.
“Hmm…does that mean I need to bend over?” Blane asked, as
if he was contemplating a hard math problem.
“Nah, opening your mouth is perfectly fine.”
“Why am I listening to this?” I asked, as I started to walk away, but Blane stopped me with a muscular arm to my waist. He pulled me into his chest and leaned down to my ear.
“You can’t tell me you’re not affected by me.” I could hear the mirth in his voice, and all I wanted to do was smack that stupid grin off of his face.
Moving in with Diego was a smart move on my part because I could continue to paint and earn money while I tried to figure out what my next step in life was going to be. I also felt safe in his club, like no one could harm me. The only problem was, I was living with two of the most flirtatious men I’ve ever met. Kace and Jett were the complete opposite; they didn’t show many emotions at all…they didn’t show their feelings. They had mastered the art of emotional detachment, making it impossible to understand what they might be possibly thinking in their gorgeously brilliant minds, but not Diego and Blane. They would lick me as I walked by if I let them.
But, even though Jett and Kace didn’t voice their emotions, I could see it in their eyes, especially Jett. He would lighten up when he saw me walk into a room, his eyes would become sinister when I would tease him, and he would soften when I needed him to.
I guess that didn’t matter now, though, because even though I thought he might have loved me, what it came down to was, he didn’t trust me. Never once had I given him the impression that there was any other man but him, but he couldn’t see that; it was as if he had blinders on and he only saw what he wanted to see.
I can’t live my life like that. I refused to live my life like that, but now that I made that decision, I was hurting. I couldn’t lie about it; I was fucking hurting.
“Hey, where did you go?” Blane asked.
“Sorry, just thinking.” I pulled away and grabbed another drink from Diego. Too many heavy thoughts during a fun time with friends.
“Thinking about Jett?” Diego asked, while pulling me into his chest.
“No,” I lied.