Page 1 of Don Caselli

1

Landon Caselli

Wale playedlow over the speakers throughout my penthouse, as I sat at my desk that overlooked Central Park. My desk faced the view of the infamous park that was stolen from us, just like everything else in this country.

I listened to Wale rap about wanting a Black Bonnie, as I continued to pull reports for Case House. The reason Menace sent me to fucking college twice was so I could spend every top of the month pulling fucking reports for our businesses and making sure they were secured.

As I clicked send to the portal, I leaned my head back on my office chair, pulled my glasses off my face and took a deep breath. Since graduating, this was mostly all the fuck I had time for. I didn’t have classes anymore, so Menace figured I could take more of the load off the family’s accountant.

He didn’t trust him.

If he had a valid reason other than the fact that the man put steak sauce on his steak, then I would have been ready to ride behind his reasoning.

The sun was starting to set over the park, letting me know that my workday had officially ended. Fuck any calls from business partners overseas and our accountant the minute he went to double check the work I uploaded to the portal. I didn’t give a fuck about doing anything tonight but drinking and chilling.

Looking at my watch, I shut down my computers and pushed away from the desk. The six hours I sat there, I hadn’t consumed anything. My stomach growled as my feet shuffled across the light wooden floors as I made my way to the kitchen.

The massive kitchen was chef grade with top-of-the-line appliances. Features that made a nigga like me happy. I loved to cook and get lost in fucking around in the kitchen. Time was always the problem. My kitchen didn’t get used often because I was too busy with school or other shit. Aside from that, the only signs of fresh produce was usually every other week when I received the delivery from Case Farms. The organic vegetables were delivered to all of us, and most of the time they went bad because I didn’t have time to cook.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy cooking. Time was always working against me, so by the time I made it home, the last thing I wanted to do was cook a meal. If I wanted to catch a slight mood, I would light a spliff, cook, and zone out to my music.

Grabbing a fresh Granny Smith apple, I took a bite and leaned against the counter while I scrolled through my phone.

The happy birthday text message I sent earlier was still unread, only saying delivered. Exiting out of my text messages, I went to the second call on my log, and pressed the name, while I continued to eat my apple.

“What we looking like tonight?” Beans answered the phone, already knowing the timing I was on.

Since graduating, I had more free nights where I didn’t have to cram and study for different exams. Nobody was holding myhand or forcing me to a desk to study. The only thing that kept me focused on school was Menace. I didn’t want to envision the look on his face if I had to tell him I wasn’t graduating.

“Shit, I’m trying to see what you on. Eating a fucking apple in the damn dark I’m so bored.” I chuckled.

“Sounding like big bro’ over there. You cool?” Beans snorted.

I shook my head because Menace loved the fucking dark. Always said it calmed him, but when I was younger, I used to think he did it to scare me. I would come down for a drink of water and that nigga was in the living room sitting in the dark, playing with his hands.

“What you about to get into? Still handling shit for Mens?”

“Nah. It’s all handled. Greene texted me. She at Tiny’s for Kennedy’s birthday dinner.”

When I heard Kennedy’s name, I was more interested in the conversation. There was only one spot I wanted to hit tonight, and it was Tiny’s.

“She invited you?”

Beans snickered like I told a fucking joke. “Nigga, she told me… mean she want me there. Kennedy invited her to have dinner with her girls.”

“Messy bitches.” I couldn’t stand the bitches Kennedy hung around. Granted, at least three of them were Case House girls. They were forever leading her down the wrong path, and not because they worked for Case House. I didn’t care how they got their money, because the more they popped they pussy, the more the Casellis ate.

“Yeah, but you infatuated with their best friend so get dressed… we heading there tonight. Always some shit at Tiny’s.”

I wasn’t going to fight him on that, especially since I texted her ass this morning and never received a response. “Bet.”

Every bad bitch went to Tiny’s for dinner and drinks on their birthday. It was a social club and restaurant. Everyone kneweverybody, and you had to be making a certain kind of money to even be invited.

Any bitch or nigga in that bitch was getting to the money. Music was always loud, and velvet booths were available if you wanted to catch a vibe alone or with your significant other. The tables were always crowded with bottles upon bottles and food scattered throughout.

Tiny’s was a spot where you didn’t have to worry about splitting the bill and having the server run several different cards. You just knew, if you were bad enough, some nigga was gonna float his card over to your table and cover the tab.

On the nights that I wanted to be alone, but my home was too quiet, I found myself in a velvet booth with a drink and my favorite lobster ravioli they served. Observing my surroundings had been drilled into my head by Menace and Corleon for years. I sat in the back, where I had a full view of everyone and enjoyed my food and drink. Naturally, I was a person who craved to be around people. That shit didn’t work when your older siblings loved to be alone.

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