How could I respond, “Take time to learn your own body. Open your mouth and tell me what pleases you. Move your ass. Suck my big, beautiful dick like you enjoy that shit. Hell, learn how to please yourself,” without insulting a woman? So I gave my canned response, “Nothing,” followed my unconscious lie, “I’ll call you later,” which meant nothing to me before or after I’d said it.
Money couldn’t buy experience. Earning a degree didn’t educate women about sex. Either a woman had it—knowledge about her body—or she didn’t. Ooh, Velvet could teach classes on how to suck a dick the right way.
Benito stood in the middle of the floor, bobbing his head. What was fucking wrong with him? Was he retarded or something? I wanted to see how long he would stand there before opening his mouth or, if I was lucky, leaving.
Honey knew all of her spots and all of mine, too. She was perfect, or so I’d thought. What I knew for sure was I needed someone to share my life with and somebody who loved me for me. I still wanted Honey. I picked up my iPhone, hoping I’d missed a voice-mail message or a text. Nothing.
Honey was the last person I thought about at night and the first person I thought about in the morning, but I was afraid of learning the truth about her. Or perhaps I was afraid of learning the truth about myself. What really attracted me to her? Either way I’d rather hold on to the best memories of my life and let her go than take her back and have regrets for doing what I knew I shouldn’t have done. Honey was a former prostitute and madam, but I had to prove to my parents that my brother was lying about her being a murderer.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said, “Benito, seriously, you’ve got to go. Now. I have a client arriving shortly.”
Trevor had delayed our meeting by a day. He wanted me to go forty-nine to his fifty-one on purchasing land instead of fifty-fifty as originally agreed. And he wanted to add in designing the layout and constructing the improvements for an upscale gentlemen’s club in order to get a jumpstart on professional basketball player Darius Jones-Williams, who was reportedly getting ready to open up several multilevel mega strip clubs, which would put Trevor’s and all the other Atlanta strip joints out of business in less than a year.
Against my dad’s recommendation, today I was partnering with Trevor in his strip club, Stilettos, and our developments already under construction. I could hold off on partnering to develop a new strip club. Maybe we could consult with Honey on finding the hottest female exotic dancers. That would give me a reason to call her.
“Your client can wait, man. I’m your brother. I’m homeless. I’ve got no place to go,” Benito confessed. “I have no money. Dad said I couldn’t stay at the house, ’cause Mom is afraid of me. Like I’d ever do anything to hurt her. You can at least let me stay in one of your apartments in Georgetown until I get on my feet. I promise to pay you back every penny with interest.”
I chuckled, then said, “I see you and Honey have something in common. Deceiving people. No can do. Like Dad told you, call your baby mama. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have you spend time with your son. Considering that you’ve screwed everybody who’s tried to help you, this is a perfect time to do right by her and your son.”
“I don’t owe that bitch nothing! She turned her back on me.”
“Yeah, by taking care of your son by herself. I get your point,” I said, shaking my head. “Look, seriously, my client is here from Atlanta to meet with me. I won’t waste his time or mine trying to solve your plethora of problems.”
The sight of Benito’s unshaved face and his stained jeans, and his stench, hit me all at once, making my stomach churn. How could a black man who was abandoned by his birth parents be so ungrateful all of his life?
My mother adopted him while she was a single parent, then struggled to take care of him until she married my father. My parents had given him every luxury they’d afforded me, including a house, after he graduated from high school, which he’d immediately sold. Then he’d pissed off the money trying to impress his college teammates.
Did Benito think he won four college-football championships on his own? He should’ve been grateful, but, no, he was never satisfied, and what disgusted me the most was nothing was ever his damn fault. Nothing anyone did for him was ever enough. He’d earned millions playing professional football, and what did he have to show for it? Not a damn thing.
Looking at Honey’s picture on my credenza, I said, “Get out.”
“Forget that bitch. She’s a ho, man. And she stole my money. Okay. I’ll leave, but you’re the only one who can help me get my money from her ass. Help me, and I promise I’ll never ask you for anything else. I swear.”
Benito was pathetic scum. Whatever Honey took from him, I was sure she deserved and then some. “You’ve got ten minutes to say what’s on your mind,” I said, sitting on the corner of my desk, hoping to hear something redeemable about Honey.
His ass descended toward the seat of my camel-colored leather chair. “Oh, hell no,” I said. “Don’t get comfortable. Keep standing up, look me in my eyes, and tell me what you have to say about Honey. I’ve terminated my relationship and all communication with her, so don’t infringe upon my time by trying to convince me to contact her on your behalf.”
I checked my phone again. Still no messages from Honey.
“Man,” Benito exhaled, scratching his ear like a monkey. “So much shit happened over the three years I lived with her, I don’t know where to start.”
I couldn’t believe she had let this bum leech off of her for three years. I’d thought she was smarter than that. Thank God this ignorant idiot wasn’t my biological brother, or I’d have to petition him for a DNA test. Standing tall, I said, “Then leave and call me when you get your lies together.”
Benito’s lips tightened. “Man, I’m not lying. Okay. Here’s the truth. Lace worked for my boy Valentino James. Valentino is in jail because Lace let him take the rap for killing one of her bitches. She did it. Now I can’t go back to Las Vegas to bail him out and prove he’s innocent, ’cause I don’t have any money. That and that undercover bitch police officer Sapphire Bleu told me, if I ever stepped foot in the state of Nevada, she’d personally arrest me. I ain’t letting another woman stick a gun in my ass the way Honey did after she tied me up. Forget that.” Benito swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. He frantically shook his head, and his sweat landed on my face as he said, “Whatever you do, man, don’t ever let Honey tie you up.”
Wiping my face, I repositioned my thigh on the corner of my desk. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing at that fool. I asked my brother, “What the fuck have you done? This isn’t about Honey. You’re involved in something illegal. What is it?”
Benito’s face was drenched in sweat, as though someone had dowsed him with a bucket of water. His dingy white cotton T-shirt stuck to his chest as he exclaimed, “Wasn’t my fault, man. I didn’t kill Sunny. I didn’t pull—”
“Wait a minute. You mean Sunny Day? That gorgeous young girl who was on the national news a few weeks ago? The twin who was murdered in Vegas the day before her twenty-first birthday? All of this shit you’re telling me is recent?”
“I guess you heard about that, huh? Yeah, that’s the one. Like I was saying, I didn’t pull the trigger. Valentino did. But he made me bury the body. But I didn’t bury her body. I left it in Sunny’s condo back in Vegas. Her twin sister found the body, and they had a funeral and all, but you can’t tell nobody I had anything to do with any of that shit. That’s all over, man. What I need you to help me do is find out what happened to the hundred million dollars I heard Lace stole from Valentino’s mansion so I can get Valentino out of jail and get my share for saving his ass. I know you don’t need my money, but I’ll break you off a li’l something when I get paid.”