Page 48 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

The door to the club opens, and a couple of brothers trickle out for a smoke. Billy jumps up, and we quickly get back to work.

“Hey, I bet I could distract you at least a little,” I call over to Billy.

“Doubt it,” he replies. “But give it your best shot.”

“I somehow locked myself into going to a Christmas party with Brandy’s family. It’s some big fancy party, and her ex—the Ivy League douchebag—is going to be there.”

“She has an Ivy League ex?”

“Yeah, went to Princeton or Yale or some shit. And now I’m supposed to show up and compete with that. Ain’t no way I’m gonna be able to convince her father I’m a better choice for his daughter. Especially since he already thinks her ex hung the moon.”

Billy laughs at my pain. “You’re screwed, man.”

“Yup.”

“Buy her a really good Christmas present,” TJ suggests.

“A Christmas present. Shit, I didn’t even think about that.” I drag a hand down my face, wishing I’d never asked Crash for permission to go to this damn party.

I see Wolf push off the wall and call to me. “Hey, prospect. Did I hear you say something about an Ivy League ex you have to compete with?”

“Uh, yeah. Brandy apparently comes from money. Now I’ve got to go to some fancy Christmas party.”

He takes a drag off his cigarette, eyeing me, then blows smoke toward the sky. “Is she worth it?”

A half smile forms on my lips. “Yeah, I think she is.”

“All right, then. Let’s figure this shit out, because I’m not having one of our prospects outshined by some Ivy League prick.” With that, he strides toward the door, calling over his shoulder. “You boys comin’?”

“Yes, sir.” We drop our bags and follow Wolf and the other brothers inside.

“Line us up some whiskeys, boys,” he tells us as he pulls out a barstool.

We start pouring two fingers of whiskey into a line of rocks glasses. Several brothers, including Prez, pull up a stool. Great. I get to have them all meddling in my love life. While help is appreciated, I can’t say I’m thrilled.

“So, what’s her ex like?” Wolf asks.

“I’m not sure. Never met him, but from what Brandy’s said, I know he’s rich. He went to an Ivy League college, he plays tennis with her dad, and he wants himself a trophy wife.” I start listing the things I can remember.

“Sounds like you’re already screwed, kid.” Green throws back his drink.

“Wait? Am I hearing this right? Marcus is having to compete with some rich douchebag to win his girl?” Crash asks, glancing from me to Wolf.

“Yup.”

“Fuck that shit. We’re not having a representative of our club outshined by some Ivy League dick.” Cole chimes in.

“Okay, so Marcus, how do you plan to outshine this dude?” Crash leans his elbows on the bar.

“Uh…” My mind goes blank, trying to think of a response. I don’t have a clue.

“What about a gift?” Wolf suggests.

“Yeah, but if the dude’s rich, I don’t think Marcus can outspend him,” Green states the obvious as he reaches behind the counter to grab a bag of chips.

Angel walks from across the room. “You know, fellas, with most women, it’s not about the cost of the gift. It’s about the thought and the meaning. What are her interests? Show her you listen and care about what she loves. That’s the kind of gift that makes an impression.”

“Okay, okay.” My wheels start turning. “She’s trying to become a librettist.”

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