3. Pearce #2
His most lucrative legal business was the construction company.
His uncle did carpentry for years, and my father let him build a crew, and he funded it.
In the ten years they’d been in business, Moore Homes had built more than two thousand new homes in developing residential neighborhoods.
His company didn’t just build homes in North Carolina.
There were plenty of times, the crew would work out of town Monday through Friday afternoon, come home for the weekend, and go back out early Monday morning.
Back in the day, I’d seen my father mow his lawn and do small tasks around the house but the wealthier he became, he didn’t spend his time on anything that he could pay someone else to do.
From landscapers to his own personal mobile car detailers, house cleaners, and a personal chef, my father barely lifted a finger to do anything.
The man rarely ever drove, so he didn’t even open his own car doors half the time.
He kept trying to teach me the business because he was hinting at retiring.
I didn’t mind taking the company over, but he would have to be retired for sure.
My father and I couldn’t be in the same spaces every day.
I’d heard people say we often butted heads because we were so much alike.
I had to disagree. In my opinion, we were different, and that was why we bumped heads.
I absolutely appreciated all the things my father had done for me, but doing things that I didn’t ask him to do and then throwing it back in my face or holding it over my head wasn’t going to fly.
My father was so used to yes men and leeches that anytime I held my ground, he labeled it as disrespectful and ungrateful.
In many cases we had to agree to disagree.
After getting dressed, I jogged down the stairs and grabbed the breakfast sandwich from the kitchen that I knew Tasha had made because the moment I opened my eyes, I smelled bacon.
I ate it in record speed, washed it down with a bottle of water, and made my way out the door.
I had no idea how long Pauly had known that his son was dead, but I was going to the restaurant.
The deed was done, and I needed the rest of my bread.
Slowly, I was going to add the money to my business bank account.
Being that there were people that paid for their homes being cleaned in cash, me making weekly deposits wasn’t suspicious.
I didn’t even mind the IRS form that the tellers had to complete if I deposited over $10,000 at a time.
The business was legit, and I paid taxes on it.
With the money that I funneled into the account for completing hits, on paper, I was a legal millionaire.
Since Pauly had paid me so well, I was going to chill and not take any more jobs for at least four months.
My mom and aunt ran the cleaning company, so I vacationed more than I worked, and that was alright with me.
The restaurant was open like it was any other day. The moment I stepped inside, the hostess greeted me with a smile. Shorty was pretty as hell with sun kissed skin. A lot of Italians were racist as fuck, but she had to get treated pretty well to work there and be so happy about it.
“Table for one?”
“Nah. I need to speak to Pauly if he’s here.”
“He’s not. What’s your name?”
“Pearce Langston.”
“He said you might be stopping by. One moment.” She flashed another smile before walking away and heading toward the back of the restaurant.
I found myself wondering if Pauly was somewhere with his family playing the role of a grieving father.
I didn’t even know why I cared. The restaurant was busy per usual.
I had only eaten there once, but I remembered the food being pretty good.
Ole girl came back to the front followed by one of Pauly’s henchmen.
I was sure that anyone with good sense knew that Pauly was a mob affiliate.
Why would a regular restaurant owner need to have secret service type security with him at all times, in his restaurant, and his home?
The expression on homie’s face remained blank as he handed me a large paper bag with the restaurant name and logo etched on the front.
It looked like he was handing me a to go order, but the bread inside the bag wasn’t edible.
I tipped my head at him and exited the establishment as smoothly as I’d entered.
After checking my watch, I concluded that I didn’t have time to run the money back home.
My pops didn’t play about his time being wasted.
If I was late, I might have to curse his ass out.
He had a habit of sometimes talking to me like I was one of his minions, or a child, and not a grown ass man.
When I arrived at my father’s office, I saw his Rolls Royce parked out front.
After tucking the paper bag in the trunk, I locked my vehicle.
I knew the money was safe, but I still refused to be careless.
Inside, I found my way into my father’s spacious office.
I walked in without knocking and found him conversing with his receptionist. Shantell was 5’7 with dark skin and a short pixie cut that gave her a mature look.
She was sexy as fuck, and I would have been willing to bet my last dollar that my father had hit that.
My father glanced over at me, but he continued to listen to whatever Shantell was saying. I made myself comfortable. When she was done, Shantell pivoted, gave me a polite smile, and left the office closing the door behind her.
“Pearce.” My father pulled a cigar from his desk drawer. “How have you been son? It’s been a minute.”
The exaggeration made me chuckle. “A minute? I saw you last week at Grams’ house.”
“That doesn’t count because you were there to see her. Not me.”
“I was there to see family,” I corrected.
“Since you refuse to come to Sunday dinner at my crib, I’ll go ahead and tell you what I have planned.
I want you to meet Adrienne. She’s my homie’s daughter.
He’s an attorney, and she comes from a good family.
Reputable and well-known in Diamond Cove.
I think you two would be a good match. It’s about time for you to stop playing and settle down.
Give me some grandkids.” My father cuffed a lighter and placed the cigar between his lips while I stared at him in astonishment.
“I know you know that I’m with Tasha because you met her. You’ve actually met her more than once.”
The way my father scoffed threw me for a loop.
“Tasha’s mother is a drug addict. She probably groomed her daughter to go after a wealthy man, so they could reap the benefits.
Aside from pussy, she doesn’t bring shit to the table.
She’s a grown ass woman that works at a beauty supply store.
Her mother lives in the projects, and she probably doesn’t even know her father.
Fuck no. She’s not good enough to be my daughter-in-law.
As hard as I’ve worked, I’m building a legacy to leave behind.
When I’m gone you and the family you create will be one of Diamond Cove’s elite. You can’t marry just anybody.”
“The fuck?” I frowned. “Did you really just sit there and run down all the reasons why you don’t think my shorty is good enough for you?” I knew my father could be on bullshit, but that took the cake.
“Son, you’re old enough to understand that life isn’t a fairytale.
All that falling in love and living happily ever after is folk lore.
Marriage is a business arrangement. There isn’t any room for love in the equation.
Adrienne comes from good stock. She has a career, she’s connected, gorgeous, and she was raised to know the ins and outs of being with a powerful man. She’s not project trash.”
“Yooo,” I drawled while chuckling. “I’m out. This is crazy.” As I stood, I continued to chuckle. I knew my pops could be a mother fucker, but he had me speechless.
“Will you ever grow out of that rebellious stage? I think you get off on challenging me, and it’s annoying as fuck. You can still fuck Tasha. Have her as a sneaky link, side chick, baby mama, what the fuck ever, but you need a reputable woman on your arm donning your last name, and she isn’t it.”
That was my cue to leave. I refused to argue with my father.
This wasn’t a gangster movie, and he wasn’t telling me who the fuck I could and couldn’t be with.
I didn’t need the key to his empire or his validation.
With all the money, power, and respect he had, it still wasn’t enough.
He had to try and dictate my life, and I wasn’t going.
I loved my father, but he had me fucked up.
He could get mad, and I couldn’t care less.
The great thing about having my own money was that I didn’t have to live by his terms. He could cut me off, disown me, whatever made him feel better, and I’d still be living and thriving.
We didn’t even share the same last name, so it was comical that he cared about who ended up having mine.
I kept waiting for the day my father would treat me like a grown man, but it seemed that wouldn’t occur anytime soon.
When and if I got married, it was going to be because I wanted to.
Not for business, money, connections, or any of the things my father cared about.
Just when I started to feel like my father couldn’t get any more ridiculous, he proved me wrong.
I was grown, however. He didn’t have to approve of Tasha because I didn’t need his permission to be with her.