Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Javier Perez had untrustworthy energy.
And I didn’t feel that way just because he was a politician.
I was raised on the ability to scan a sea of faces and easily pick out the most disloyal in the bunch.
Javier Perez had one of those vibes—features pinched and twisted, like once upon a time he’s smelled something bad and never got around to fixing his face.
He leaned forward and took another sip from his glass of whiskey. He’d been sipping on that drink for the better part of the last half-hour. I didn’t know it before I saw it, but I didn’t like that shit. It looked suspicious.
“That liquor’s expensive. Don’t just sit around and let your ice water it down—drink it. That’s my money in that glass.”
The moment I let the words come out of my mouth, the quiet tension of the room grew hostile. The armed guards behind the Cuban candidate drew in as if getting ready to make me apologize for my less than respectful outburst.
Javier tossed a look to his security personnel, raising a hand for them to stand down. My left cheek rose with a smirk before I snuck a look at the watch on my wrist. It was a quarter till midnight, so that meant that Mr. Perez and his peeps had fifteen minutes of my time left.
“Loo-look, Kain,” Javier stuttered, his eye contact unstable. “The city council had an understanding with your father when he was free.”
“Well, he ain’t free no more.”
“Silas always made sure to endorse anyone we pushed for political office. He was a man of great influence in this state, and now that he’s…” he hesitated. “…unable, we feel that an endorsement from you is just what it would take to give my run for governor the push it needs.”
Javier would need more than just a push.
He would need thousands of early voter ballots, paid for and pulled from the black and brown hands of Miami-Dade’s poorest neighborhoods.
No politician could outright set aside campaign money to fund ballot fraud, so that’s where Silas’ “influence” and “endorsement” always came in handy.
Using his own money, my father used to buy the ballots, propping up whichever candidate offered him the best incentives.
Crooked politicians like Javier Perez were the backbone of my father’s entire organization.
“If elected governor, I would do everything in my power to see that your father’s upcoming trial for shooting that girl is thrown out.”
This, apparently was the best incentive that Perez had to offer. Clearly, I wasn’t sold.
“It’s a win-win situation,” he tried to convince me.
Debatable.
“Really?” I reached for my cellphone on the table between us, checking to see if I had any messages and for how much time Javier had left. “Everything I’ve heard so far tips the scale in your favor. I don’t do favors, Javier; I trade.”
Truth is, he was gonna have to offer me a hell of a lot more for me to consider doing what he asked of me. He get’s to be governor of one of the most populous states in the country, and I got what exactly? My father back?
Who says I wanted him back?
Neither of us spoke for an extended period of time, making it easier to hear the buzzing noise coming up from downstairs. Below our feet, the vibrations of the hottest party in Miami buzzed beneath us, an after party celebrating the successful completion of Eden Xavier’s first ever concert.
The label was using the biggest club that I owned as a venue, a warehouse-sized nightclub called Seven in the Miami neighborhood of Wynwood. I sat in on this impromptu meeting with Javier while the party raged on beneath my feet in my soundproofed, second floor office.
“Once I get the governor’s seat—”
“If you get the governor’s seat.”
Javier shifted uncomfortably in his seat, correcting himself.
“If I was elected governor of the state, that would mean decreased police presence in the neighborhoods where you and your people operate. Less spontaneous raids in your clubs and other establishments. A win for me, is a win for you financially. You’ll certainly be sleeping easier. ”
“A loss for you — still a win for me financially, as far as I’m concerned.” I checked my watch again. Only three minutes had passed. My eyes shot up from my watch, just in time to catch Javier sipping at his watered down whisky again. “And I’m sleepin’ just fine.”
“Not with Caplan as governor,” Javier quipped. “The man has had it out for your family since he was the state’s attorney. While I would try to make your life easier, he would do everything he can to bring the Montgomery name down.”
While true, it still wasn’t enough of an argument to convince me to help this shifty-eyed man.
While it might’ve been Silas’ prerogative to help out anyone who promised him a kickback, I wasn’t so forthcoming.
Regardless of whether or not we had an ally in the governor’s seat, my family would be just fine.
Javier was going to have to try harder than that to convince me of anything.
My hatred for Joshua Caplan would’ve been all the motivation I needed had I been able to find anything about Perez that I trusted.
“I can handle Caplan. So I don’t believe I really need to help put you in office,” I informed.
Javier’s gaze fell pathetically. That was it for me.
“What are you – thirty-seven?” Fifteen years older than myself.
Javier confirmed the valuation with a nod.
“You are way too damn old to not be lookin’ niggas in the eye when you’re tryna have a one-to-one, askin’ them for things. ”
I bet Caplan is tearing his ass up in debates.
“Look, I came to you with something to offer.” He put a little more bass in his voice. That whiskey was clearly kicking in. “A favor for a favor—”
“A favor for an I-O-U,” I clarified. “You ain’t offered me shit, but promises for after you already get what you want.”
“Kain—”
“Mr. Montgomery.”
“Mr. Montgomery—” If I got nothing else from taking this meeting, at least I got a laugh.
“—I just figured considering your history with the family, you would also see it as a benefit to have someone else as governor. You can help in many ways, too. After the whole fiasco with his daughter last year, I bet you have a lot of dirt on—”
No longer amused, I lunged out of my seat, my hands grabbing Javier by the front of his suit before he could even finish that sentence.
The audible sounds of his security guards cocking the guns they’d snuck into the club echoed, and I threatened, “Tell ‘em to shoot, and even if they miss, see if you make it out of this club with your head on your shoulders.”
“Cálmese,” Javier barked in Spanish to his men. “Está bien!”
They froze behind their boss, but my grip on the collar of his shirt did not let up as I warned, “If her name shows up in anything that your campaign draws up against Caplan… If you even allude to her, even if it has nothing to do with me, you’re gonna need more than two niggas with Glocks to stop what you got comin’.
I don’t care what you say about Caplan, but you be sure to keep his daughter’s name out the papers, or else you’ll have to answer to me. ”
This was the threat I’d been levying against every governor-hopeful that I’d seen in the past five months, each of them hoping that my past relationship with Lauren Caplan was fair game to use against her father’s run for office.
In threatening them to keep Lauren out it, I knew I was indirectly helping Caplan’s campaign by making his rivals too afraid to use their biggest criticism against him, but I had to look out for her.
If Lauren’s past relationship with me was used by any of her father’s rivals, I just knew it would be something held against her in the toxic environment that was her household.
In the months since Caplan had announced his candidacy, it didn’t escape my notice that Lauren was barely ever present for his public appearances.
It was obvious he was hiding her because he was wary about the public being reminded of her past. That observation alone is what had me promising random politicians from all around the state that I’d kill them if they even thought about talking about her.
Every time I caught myself doing it, I was met with the reality that I was just as protective of Lauren as I was sixteen months ago.
A realization that never failed to put me in an incredibly bad mood.
With a fistful of Javier Perez’s shirt still in my hands, I checked the time on my watch one last time.
“Your fifteen minutes are up.” It was midnight.
***
As soon as the clock struck twelve, Rashad’s drunk ass started to sing.
“Happy buuuuuuurthday to you. Happy buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurthday to you.”
He’d been drinking for the entirety of our evening—three shots before the stupid concert, a whole flask that he’d snuck in to the stupid concert, and now that we were in line outside of a nightclub called Seven, trying to get into the stupid concert’s afterparty, he was totally wasted.
“Baby, baby, baby…” he half shouted, half whispered, taking my face between his clammy hands. “You look so, so good tonight.”
“Don’t call me that,” I squirmed from under his sweaty hands.
His face morphed into a frown, annoyed that even as he gave me compliments, all I could do was cringe at the sound of him calling me “baby”.
He would’ve much preferred I act modest and shower him in gratitude for acknowledging that, yes, I was a pretty girl.
But I already knew that I looked good.
And I didn’t need the opinion of a drunk man to confirm the fact.
Rashad waited until we were nodded into the party by a bouncer before he said anything else to me. Under the multicolored LED lights of the crowded party, he grabbed at my shoulders, forcing me to look at him.
“You think you’re too good for me?” he questioned, clearly getting brave off the countless drinks he’d gulped down that evening. “No, really, Lauren. Is that what you think?”