Page 21 of Into the Blue
I’m here to take everything he built and do better than he ever did.
“My name’s Racquelle.” I hike my purse onto my shoulder a little higher. “Do you mind if we sit for a bit and talk? Is that okay?” I say with as much decorum as I know how.
He nods, and unhurriedly opens the door wide enough to allow me inside. Why he would let a complete stranger into his house, is unclear to me. He must have some sort of security measures.Maybe he doesn’t.That makes me more uncomfortable than it should.
His home is large enough to accommodate at least six rooms and as I walk through the foyer to the sitting room, it’s clear that he made this home cozy and peaceful. So different from what the outside world must be like for him.
We end up in a little nook that’s by a large bay window overlooking a lush garden outside with sculptures and a pond. The plush brown chair that’s available across from him is framed in ornately carved wood that matches the carvings of the coffee table. He must have been reading the memoir that is closed with a bookmark sticking out of the top. The book sits next to a glass of what I hope is tea and not liquor this early in the morning.
I sit my purse on the table and cross my legs at the ankle. There is no point in beating around the bush with small talk so I plainly tell him, “I’m your daughter.”
His face scrunches up, deepening the creases in his brow and around his mouth. “My what now?”
“Do you remember Genesis? Genesis Owens?” He shakes his head. I was really hoping to not discuss her dancing career, but I will give it a try anyway. “Krystal? She used to dance at the Golden Splash Cabaret before it burned down.” My mom had left Louisiana long before the club was destroyed but that doesn’t matter here.
I see the recognition in the lines of his weathered face before it turns to a sour expression. Quickly, I keep talking so he won’t say something bad against my mom before I’m able to say what I need to. “I know you two were not on the best terms when you ended things, but I’m not here to talk about that or make it any better. She passed last year.”
He doesn’t speak for a moment as he processes what I’ve said. “So, what are you here for?” No condolences or anything. I shouldn’t have expected there to be any from him.
I sit up a little taller. There is a reason why all of this is happening. Each move on my part has to benefit the goal.Show no weakness, Rocky.“I want to talk about business.”
My father sips from his glass and returns it to the table. I note that he never offered a drink to me, but ignore that thought when he speaks again. “What kind of business?”
Gotta be frank, this man is no more concerned with me now than he was when I was standing at the door. Maybe I should have spent some time buttering him up but I don’t know if I could with how little he gives a shit about me being here.
“You left everything to Junior. We both know he is not the best person to lead this family. He’s making a mess of everything.”
There’s silence in the space between us, so I continue sharing what I know about Junior’s bad business decisions.
“He’s losing properties, tainting partnerships—he’s costing this family so much more than it’s profiting. To hide the losses from you, did you know he’s moving smack into your clubs? A friend of mine is currently in rehab because of him.” There is so, so much more to the story of his destruction but I don’t elaborate further.
He leans away from me. Either surprised at my boldness or the fact I was privy to what should be family-only information.
But I am family and Junior is a hot fucking mess who is going to run this family into the ground.
Senior shakes his head, repeatedly. He must know or suspect that what I’m saying is true. He can’t be that far removed from the business. “I don’t even know you. You’re a stranger to this life and these people. Why are you here tellin’ me this?”
“I want to help you. I can be the head this family needs.” I know how I sound coming here as a stranger, asking for what he’s worked his whole life on. But I am his daughter and more deserving and qualified than his son.
He smacks the idea away with a scoff. “What makes you think you’d be a better leader than him?”
“I’ve been studying for this. I know what is going on in your business better than you or Junior do right now. I know the imports and the exports—running better than anyone. Let me show you what I can do. Don’t let him ruin the LaFayette name for good.”
I’m trying to give him a lifeline. If he gives me what I’m owed then it will be far better for him and his son than if I take it.
This is his first and only opportunity to make a smart decision.
There’s compassion in his eyes for a moment and then he pats my hand. The gesture is condescending and I despise it instantly. “That was a lovely speech sweetheart, but there is nothin’ I can do to help you. What’s done is done. Either way, ain’t how it works in this family. No one would respect or listen to you if I just told them to. I’m old and tired and I just wanna live out the rest of my days in peace. Terrell is the head of this family. It’s been said and done.”
My mind whirs a hundred miles a minute as I try to find a way or the words to say to get him on my side.
I don’t get a chance because a ruckus comes into the room led by the man in question. He sips from a styrofoam cup, rattling with ice.
He sees our dad first and starts to say something before his eyes cut to me. “Who this?” Each of his steps is sluggish and it’s like he’s moving through mud or something to get to me. His bloodshot eyes are alarming, but it’s the purple stain to his lips that gives me pause.
“You still sippin’ that shit, boy!” Senior shouts, standing from his chair to snatch the cup out of his son’s hand. He’s able to with ease since Junior reflexes are absolutely shot. Senior sniffs the cup and gives his son a look of disdain. “Told you stop drinkin’ that shit when you workin’. Hell, you won’t listen to shit.”
Senior takes the cup with him to the kitchen, leaving me in the room along with Junior and three of his goons. I square my shoulders as Junior looks me over. It’s not hard to look like the better person when he’s fucked up on cough syrup at mid-day when he should be working.
