“Closing the Deal with the Right Fork”

Javi‘s POV

Every man here is in a panic.

Numbers come out in three days. We’re desperate to know if we tipped Trenton. I’ll have an office full of pissed off men if we didn’t.

Steph sent her pre-visit info yesterday.

Our review? In two weeks.

Conducted by who? The entire Leadership Core!

Ranger, Tank, Les, Bobby and Hector on-site, Tank, Bobby, and Steph doing the review, and Ranger and Hector meeting with the leadership.

So now the pressure is on. For Jorge, Drake, and Mack, this is extra special and nerve-wracking. This is the first time Jorge will meet the entire LC and he’s dreading it. I kept reminding him that he’s met Les, Hector and Steph. He knows them. It’ll be OK.

“I’ve heard all the stories about Ranger, Tank, and Bobby, though,” he said, picking at his cuticles. I passed him his cuticle nippers and he went bright red and spread his fingers out wide. “This is the first time I’m meeting the entire board. I need to pass.”

I sighed. “Bro, we’ve gone from last to first in one year due in large part to your work.” I clapped his back and forced him out of the chair, handed him his briefcase and cell phone, and pushed him out of his office. “Go home. Relax. Call Annelise and talk to her for a while. Take a night off. Come back refreshed and ready to hustle tomorrow.”

“Who’s covering me overnight?” He asked, worried. “You know Mack has the boys. Nah, I think I should—”

“Listen to your best friend of thirty years and go home. Goodnight. Bye.”

Jorge trudged out of the door and I told the guys to disable his keyfob for 12 hours. Just to make sure his stubborn ass went home.

Glad I did. He was back later that night trying to get in his office. The overnight guys made him go home.

Jorge is returning calls every hour. His office door has been closed and locked since we got the news.

Mack hasn’t been in the office in two days. I know he’s hustlin’; the contracts are pouring in.

Drake is reaching out to everyone he can think of, trying to get a sense of what we might need to prepare for and do, but everyone is tight-lipped. No one is telling him anything so he’s writing up what he remembers about Steph’s visit to Atlanta back in April. We’re determined to pass and any info we can get is welcome.

Me?

Since everyone else is panicking, I’m chill. We’ll pass. We’ve worked too hard, struggled too hard, not to pass. My job right now is to keep everyone from going into meltdown. Monica’s thrilled I’m so relaxed; she hates when I’m tense and angry. She can’t wait to see Steph again during this trip. They didn’t get a chance to spend a lot of time together during Steph’s clearance.

We’re determined to show that NYC is back in the black. We’re ready to prove that RangeMan brotherhood, determination, and hustlin’ win the day.

And I solved the puzzle of the ball! I can’t wait to show Les I got it. I’ve figured it out.

I’m hiding my keys.

—oOo—

Lucia‘s POV

Teo and I are going through the health and weight assessments one by one. No one will tell us what Stephanie looks for but, given that Bobby is coming, we assume a search of the health and fitness records will be done.

Teo puts a memo up in the break room. You can’t miss it. It’s huge.

IF YOUR FAT ASS GAINED WEIGHT OVER THANKSGIVING,
GET ON THE TREADMILL BEFORE BOBBY GETS HERE!

I‘m not fuckin’ round, son. Teo

I laugh until I cry. “Well, that’s one way to get the message out,” I tell him, smiling. “Did Javi approve that?”

“Javi and Drake laughed their asses off but yeah, they approved it. It made the point.” He shakes his head. “Yo, Bobby’s ripped me a new one exactly one time. I never forgot that shit.”

“The spring holiday season?” I remember that. I only figured it out because Levi gained weight. When I realized Levi, Mr. Vain himself, gained weight, I knew I had to figure it out. When I heard what he planned to buy to eat at the Puerto Rican Day parade, it finally clicked.

Teo and I were both relieved to have an answer. So was Levi. Bobby was not amused.

“Yup. I heard he ripped Jackson a new asshole when he popped into Miami. I don’t care that this is an office review. We don’t know how these things are done, so better safe than sorry. My boss isn’t gonna tell me he’s disappointed in me ever again.”

I smile and pat Teo’s back. He’s still flipping through his paperwork, checking everything obsessively. He’s determined that Bobby won’t find problems in NYC.

I don’t think Bobby truly understands how much the men are hurt when he tells them he’s disappointed in them. His opinion of them means almost as much as Ranger’s and, for the in-house medics, knowing that he’s unhappy causes true misery.

I think Mr. Brown and I may need to have a talk. I know he has exacting standards for good reasons (and he’s as hard on himself as he is on everyone else) but he has to loosen up a bit.

“He never schedules pop health assessments between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“First time for everything, Lucia.”

Teo’s counting Q-Tips. Yes, Bobby and I will have a talk.

—oOo—

I’m prepping for the next few weeks when the phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Lucia Diaz?”

The voice is cultured and soft. No NYC accent to speak of. “Yes, it is. To whom am I speaking?”

“This is Caroline Waltham of Etiquette Masters. How are you today?”

I relax and lean back. Javier told me to expect this call. He’s scheduled another seminar for the men. “I’m fine. How can I help you?”

“I have a session on dining skills scheduled and I will need some assistance. I plan to tackle the full complement of flatware, place settings, and courses, but I need to know what you have and what I need to bring.”

“Not just what’s needed for a business lunch?”

She laughs. “No. I think your men are wonderful and they want this training, so I’m going to give them the full experience. I don’t want them to get a course on lunch dining etiquette, then have a business dinner and end up stymied. If I teach them how to conduct themselves at dinner—”

“Then they merely have to remove some courses for lunch,” I finish. “Brilliant!”

“Thank you.”

“I’m in. We have enough flatware to accommodate an eight-course meal for 20 and anything we don’t have I can rent if you don’t have it. What were you thinking?”

I hear a sigh of relief. “That’s wonderful. I was thinking the classic French six-course.”

I’m thinking. “Hors d’oeuvre, fish, main, salad, cheese, and dessert?”

“Yes, but I’d like to toss in a soup course.”

“Oh?”

“French Onion soup. The bane of almost every business executive I know.”

I smile. “Excellent! Yes, you’re right. Plus, the men need to know the correct spoon for thin soups versus thick.”

There’s a moment of silence. “Mrs. Diaz, you are a gem. You’re going to make this so much easier.”

A rare moment of appreciation (from someone other than my boys) is always savored.

“Thank you. You want to make this an eight-course?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m going to enjoy this.”

I served as a private caterer before starting at RangeMan. I’d love to show off my skills and cook with butter!

—oOo—

Mack’s POV

We’re all staring at Caro’s latest pamphlet.

“Yo, is this a pamphlet or a book, son?” Doobie mutters.

I feel him. I picked it up earlier. This sucker is 75 pages!

“It’s a book,” Lucia says, “but I think you’ll find it useful. Here, take a look.” She flips through and we crowd around. “She covered every piece of flatware and when you’d use it, every place setting and when you’d use, and basic things to know when dining in ‘ethnic’ restaurants.”

“Oh yeah?” Doobie starts flipping through. “She got something on ordering at the hood bodega in there?” He snickers.

“Page 68.”

We stare at her before grabbing a book. I flip to 68 and laugh.

You know better than I do, but just in case, here‘s the rules:

She covered the hood bodega, the Halal guy, and food trucks. Damn! We crack up. Caro’s major! She’s gonna make sure we’re ready!

Lucia has us sign that everyone got a copy. “Here’s the thing you need to know.” We all freeze. “This is just a reference guide. You don’t have to memorize it. You don’t have to try to read every page. This is something useful for you for the rest of your life.” We nod. “Her next session is dining skills and you’ll enjoy a full eight course meal, so please don’t fill up beforehand. I’m cooking and your brothers are serving you.”

We grin. “I’m wearing the loose pants,” Levi says.

We each grab our copy and take it with us. Caro isn’t coming for a few days, but this should be fun!

—oOo—

The Day Before

Caroline‘s POV

I pop my head in Andrea’s office. “I need to talk to you about tomorrow’s client.”

Andrea looks up from her romance novel. She’s had her head stuck in that story since she walked in the office. “Right. RangeMan. Everyone’s showing at 11:30. Pam’s coming too. She said she’ll be out of her session in time to ride with me.”

“Excellent, but not what I want to discuss.” I sit in her chair and pluck the romance novel from her grasp. “Let’s talk about real men.”

She raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Oh, to be under-thirty again and not instantly age myself doing that!

“Really?” she drawls. “I’ve heard about those. Mythical creatures. Takes a combination of BBQ scent and old jock strap to attract them.”

“Oh honey, that’s gay men and teenage boys,” I moan. “If you’re using jock strap and BBQ scent to attract men, we need to talk.”

She laughs. “No thanks, Caro. I’ve had enough of men.”

“Say it’s not so!” I recoil in mock horror. “I want you to break out the sexy undies and the pushup bras for these men. I’m talking about full-blooded, sexy heterosexual men. Handsome men. The kind of men attracted to soft skin, high heels, and breasts,” I say, cutting off the joke I see coming. She grins.

“I’m talking about men who wear guns and knives as casually as they wear their suits and SWAT clothes. Men with buns so tight you could bounce a quarter off them. Men with abs that belong in a Bow-Flex commercial.”

I fan my face, thinking of that wonderful day in Macy’s, surrounded by RangeMan’s finest, shopping for clothes. The bodies I saw that day encouraged me to go home and get my husband to strip for me.

He wondered what the hell was wrong with me, but he played along. Consulting for RangeMan has been great for my sex life.

Andrea looks as if she’d like to laugh at me. “Caro . . .”

I raise a hand. “No, hear me out. RangeMan is full of these mythical creatures.”

She sighs deeply, sitting back. “And what else? What other baggage do they come with? Baby mommas? Criminal records? Gang pasts? Bad credit?”

“Yes, yes, yes, and I don’t know.”

Her mouth drops. “Caro!”

“Well, if you’re going to judge, there’s no point in talking about them, but do you remember Jorge Ortega?”

She whistles. “God yes. Sex on a stick . . . Baby momma. Bad credit.”

I wilt inside. Oh Andrea! She’s the perfect assistant, but her ex-boyfriend burned her badly, very badly, making her suspicious of every man she meets. I pray her ex gets the hell he’s earned for the way he treated her. She’s a wonderful woman, just shy and reluctant to get burned again, so she’s sarcastic and defensive with every man she meets.

I understand that defense perfectly but it’s time for her to reclaim her life. I refuse to watch her wither away on the vine simply because one man hurt her.

I roll my eyes. “Jorge works there now. I’ve done two sessions with them and his second is a man named McKinley Odom. Called Mack.”

I pass over the file photo Lucia gave me. I can see the moment Andrea’s interest is piqued.

“Now, he has the full trifecta.” She slumps. “His baby momma is an ex-wife.”

“Oh!” She looks at him again. “He put a ring on it.” She looks at me. “How do you know? He told you?”

“No. I picked it up in the clues. I was taught a gang handshake.” I attempt it with her.

“I don’t know a thing about gangs, Caro,” she says, laughing.

“He did. I think his gang wore yellow?” I raise a brow and watch as she frowns.

“Latin King, maybe.”

I shrug. “Don’t know. Jorge won’t confirm or deny anything about Mack’s past. I know he served some time because I overheard him talking to the housekeeper there, thanking her for her help when I went to check with her yesterday about tomorrow’s session. Apparently, his sons’ mother has been arrested.” She gasps. “Yeah. His sons are taking it hard right now. He has custody and I heard him say it’s hard this time because they are old enough to ask questions, even if they don’t understand. The boys were babies when he served time.”

“Oh, those poor kids,” she murmurs.

“Yes. So, that’s how I figured out he had the full trifecta. Lucia confided that he’s known in the office for being serious about fatherhood. If the men want his respect, they get in the lives of their children.”

Andrea sits back, a small smile on her face. Finally! I wondered what it would take but I should have known that a man who steps up to the plate would appeal to her. I told Lucia that I thought I had the right woman for Mack and she was thrilled to hear it. She wants Mack to find a steady woman, a good woman, so I told her about Andrea. I assured her I wasn’t trying to match make; I just want to put Mack and Andrea in the same room. If there’s interest, we won’t have to do much.

She snorted and told me I overestimated Mack; he likes aggressive women because they make their interest clear, but they don’t last with him long-term because they always believe he’s cheating. Someone who’s been hurt, like Andrea, might not get his attention if she doesn’t know how to put herself out there.

That made me hesitate. Andrea would definitely have a problem with a boyfriend who attracts too much attention from the other sex. It would be the ex all over again.

In any case, she agreed to help. She wants to see Andrea for herself because she’s protective of Mack and his boys. She says his boys look just like their father and they’re sweet and polite. They were raised well and they idolize their Daddy. She added, in confidence, that Mack’s ex-wife made him unsure with strong women. His ex was strong but manipulative. Mack, in her opinion, needs a woman who is both strong and loyal, someone who can hold his back while standing by his side.

“He pays his child support on time, is an active and involved father, and is the second leading marketing and client relations man in that office. Personally, he’s sharp, has a wonderful sense of humor and is a natural leader and mentor in that office. Honey, if I were even twenty years younger and single, you’d have to crawl over me to get to this one!” She laughs. “Definitely six foot, Jorge says he’s Dominican, gorgeous smile and eyes. Wide shoulders and long legs. Byron thought he should be a runway model, that’s how tight his body is.”

Andrea is still staring at the photo. “What’s wrong with him?”

I sniff. “Well, Miss ‘Baby momma-gang past-criminal record’,”—she cringes—”exactly. That’s his problem. On paper he’s not a great option but in person?” I smile smugly. “Good luck not falling for his charm.”

Andrea stares at the photo. I pull up the shot I took of Mack a few weeks ago at Macy’s, in his suit. She takes a deep breath and passes it over.

“Whoa . . . OK, so what’s the deal?” She looks up. “No man that gorgeous is going to be allowed to walk the streets of NYC free of a woman. Abusive? Bad body odor? Stupid?” She snickers. “It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of charm and perfect physical attributes must not be in want of a wife.”

That’s hilarious! I can’t help but laugh at that one.

I stand, shaking my head. “Andrea, dear, I want you to meet a man and stop wondering what all his faults are. No man is perfect. You aren’t perfect. I think this man is wonderful and I’d like you to get to know him. Try, anyway. Put all your suspicions aside and try, honey, try to remember what dating is like. You meet a man, you learn about him, he learns about you, you get close. You enjoy each other’s company.” I hand her the romance novel and walk to her doorway.

“Try before the only men you meet are in books. And, by the way?”

“Yeah?”

“Book boyfriends aren’t perfect either. Our imaginations make them perfect.”

—oOo—

The Day Of

Mack‘s POV

Got that contract! $10,000! Jorge better hustle. I’m making money!

Everyday I’m, everyday I’m, everyday I’m hustlin’
Ev-ev-ev-everyday I’m hustlin’
Everyday I’m hustlin’
Ev-ev-ev-everyday I’m hustlin’
Ev-ev-everyday I’m, everyday I’m, everyday I’m hustlin’
Everyday I’m hustlin’ hustlin’ hustlin’ hust-hustlin’

I’m blasting my Rick Ross, thinking about a few more trips to Connecticut, when I spot a car and two women on the side of the road. They blew a tire and they’re trying to put the spare on but they’re doin’ it all wrong. They’re standing there looking upset, yelling at someone on their cell phone.

Now, the chances of me getting shot are good, but it’s ladies. Nice looking ones too. My good deed for the day? Maybe. Gotta get that karma. I’ve done enough bad. Time to even it out with some good. Besides, forecast calls for snow. That happens and the tow truck will take forever to get here and they’ll freeze first. No harm in me offering help.

I take the next exit, circle around and pull back up behind up ’em. They’re immediately on guard. I hop out of the truck and stand next to the door. “You need help?” I yell.

“No. We’re good,” one yells back. Blonde. Sharp and yelling in her phone. Reminds me of someone. The other is more my type. Tight pencil skirt, nice booty, serious coke-bottle shape. Sweet legs in pretty tights. Her hair is thick, jet black and curly, and she’s pulled it up into a ponytail that’s swinging in the wind, whipping into her face with every passing car. She looks back at me, a clear ‘Help us!’ on her face as she shivers in her coat.

I shut the truck off and start walking over carefully. “You blew a tire?” I yell.

“No, Captain Obvious,” the blonde yells. “We got it, OK? We don’t need you coming up like a knight in shining armor—”

“Maybe you don’t, but I’m not too proud to ask for help,” Ms. Sexy says. She turns back to me. “Can you help?”

I nod. “Don’t shoot. You already got the spare out the trunk?”

She points. I walk over, my hands clearly on display. The spare is flat too. I look at Ms. Sexy. “They’re both flat. You’re goin’ nowhere on that. Look, you need a ride?”

“No,” the blonde says. “Look, we’re fine. Our boss is on her way.”

I nod. “Where you work?”

“None of your business.”

“Etiquette Masters.”

I frown. “With Caro?”

Both women freeze. “You know Caro?” Ms. Sexy asks.

I smile. “Mack Odom. RangeMan.” At the word ‘RangeMan’, both women relax visibly. Ms. Sexy is definitely checking me now. Good. I’m checkin’ her too. Full lips, wide hips, beautiful breasts. I shift, hoping my response isn’t evident.

The blonde sighs. “My apologies. I’m Pam Waltham, Caro’s daughter.” I nod. They look a lot alike too but Caro’s kind. Her daughter’s got an attitude. I look at Ms. Sexy. Who are you, miss?

“I’m Andrea, Caro’s assistant.”

Andrea. I like Ms. Sexy better. I think you’re gonna be Ms. Sexy in my head. “Look, I just left Connecticut. I don’t mind dropping you at your offices.”

Pam smiles. “We were headed to your office.”

More time with Ms. Sexy? Nice! “Good. I hear that we get dining rules today.” They laugh. “Ready to go?”

They look at each other. “Got ID?”

I nod. “Smart move.” I pull my driver’s license and the RangeMan ID.

They look at both and Pam pulls that phone. “Mom? Hey, do you know a Mack Odom?” Whatever Caro says calms Pam. She smiles. “He’s offering us a ride in.” She listens. “OK. Thanks Mom. We’ll have AAA tow it back.” She hangs up and takes a deep breath then immediately coughs. I hide the smile. “Thank you. We’d love to ride with you.”

They turn and start pulling things out of the car. Now, I’m watching Andrea. Nice booty on that and the legs . . . damn, please stand back up. My dick is stressing the booty and I’m supposed to be on hiatus. Better stop looking. I haven’t jacked off this much since I was a teenager.

I step closer and stand. “I can help. Gimme the heavy stuff to carry.”

Pam has no shame. She piles me high with boxes and I carry it over to the SUV with Andrea’s help. Pam grabs everything else and climbs in the back seat. I escort Ms. Sexy to the front and hold her hand as she climbs in.

Soft hands. I need a manicure. I catch her eye and I stop breathing for a moment.

Desire. Instant intense desire. She’s not hiding it and neither am I. She licks her lips and I swear, if the blonde wasn’t in the back seat, me and Ms. Sexy here would make this SUV rock.

“Be careful,” I whisper. “Get your feet in.”

“Thanks.”

I close the door and head around. As I open my door, I catch the end of Andrea’s sentence.

“Just once, I’d like your mother to be wrong!”

—oOo—

The ladies are turning our conference room into a dining room. White tablecloths, lots of silverware and wine glasses, they even brought flowers for centerpieces. I put the box I’m carrying down on the table, wondering what’s in it. It was heavy. Caro hurries toward me, Andrea, and Pam.

“Mack!” Caro hugs Pam, me, and Andrea. “Thank you so much. I was worried.” She grasps her daughter’s arms. “You OK?”

I see the ladies looking over, checking me. Most heads are staring. These chicks are nice looking. Classy ladies. Ladies who normally won’t give us the time of day but they they’re staring hard. They took classes in the blank face too. I can’t get a read. I wonder if I have something on the suit.

“We’re fine, Mom. It was just scary for a moment. Andrea’s a great driver. The tire blew and she kept control of the car perfectly.”

Andrea waves her hand in a ‘No prob’ move.

Caro exhales. “Mack—”

“No prob. Look, I’m ticked I didn’t catch your morning session but hey”—I shrug—”I was in the right place to grab your daughter and assistant. It’s all good. Besides, I couldn’t go anywhere for 90 minutes. They went through that whole damn book.” I wink and glance over at them. They’re smiling.

She laughs. “The other men are doing a last minute cram session.”

I motion to the other ladies. “A test?”

She smiles. “I’m not saying.”

I laugh. “You aimin’ for the Christmas card list, huh?”

“Why do you say that?” she asks, teasing.

“Twenty pretty ladies and food? My bros won’t know how to behave!” Everyone woman laughs. I’m still checkin’ Andrea. I tryna look my fill, just in case whatever this is doesn’t put me near her. I turn to everyone in the room. “Yo, Imma apologize now for whatever Caro’s done.” She pokes me, smiling. “You’re gonna sit through a bunch of lame lines, corny pickups and bad pimpin’.” Every woman is laughing. “I’m just saying. Some of ’em don’t get around classy ladies too often. This is a treat.”

“You?” Andrea asks.

I give her my ‘wolf’ smile. “I’m the worst of the bunch, so I better make sure they’re on point.”

She blushes. It looks good on her.

I throw deuces and leave.

—oOo—

Caro’s POV

I turn to Andrea. “Well?”

She closes her eyes, completely red. Ooooohh! I knew Mack would charm her. Even Pam looks impressed. I’m thrilled!

Mack looked incredibly handsome in his dark blue suit. He had on a crisp white shirt with French cuffs and a nice understated tie. Impossibly elegant, as tall as he is. Every woman here would have slipped him their number if he stood still long enough.

Pam swoons. “Mom! I’m still single. How many single men are in this building?”

I look around at the women with me. “Enough for every woman here to have a date.”

Every woman presses her thighs together and fans her face. I’m going to be adored for months, possibly years, for this.

“OK, I’m curious,” Lyndsey says. “When was the last time any man called any one of you ‘classy’?”

The girls look at each other, frowning. The group is composed of friends of my daughter who went through my classes and all of my employees who were free. They’re young, pretty, and single and most of them didn’t want to come. The idea of trying to help a bunch of men through dining etiquette was ‘snooze-fest city, Mom’, according to Pam.

I’ll bet I never have problems getting volunteers after this!

“Never,” Alison says. She looks around. “In the past half hour, I’ve been treated nicer by these men than all the men I know back in Connecticut.”

“Just goes to show ladies.” Everyone looks at me. “A good man is not only hard to find but, sometimes, you make it harder to find one when you have a ‘checklist’ of things you’re looking for. A good man, a polite man, comes in all forms. What matters in life is how a man treats you, not the money he has.”

They blush and nod. Some of these women know that better than others.

—oOo—

Mack’s POV

Lucia laid out a full place setting at the front of the room. We’re crowded around, looking at it.

“Man, you study that book?” Levi asks. I nod. “You know the difference in those soup spoons yet?”

Hell no. The gumbo spoon and the cream soup spoon look the same, son. Andrea tried but I still don’t get it. I get the Asian soup spoon, but who knew there were different kinds of those!?

See, this is why I like wings. I got two hands and, if need be, I only need one to eat with.

“OK, so according to the book, we should think of BMW when we eat,” Doobie says. That gets a round of snorts, but we’re listening. He loosens his tie. We were all told to break out the suits again and Doobie has a new one. It fits well. We’ve been joking on his ‘rise’ all day. “Bread on the left, meal in the center, water on the right. That’s how we know our bread and water from the guy next to us.”

Johno looks. “Nah, son, I’m not buying all this.” He leaves the room and comes back with Tater. He points to a spoon. “Yo, which spoon is that?”

Tater picks it up. “Cream.”

We look at Doobie, who checks the book. He nods.

“How did you know that?” Levi asks, mystified.

Tater smirks. “There’s a country club in Connecticut famous for its members initiation. The last hurdle is a 21 course meal with the president of the club. Use the wrong spoon and you’re out. So, you hit Wall Street and you hear those stories and the first thing you do is learn your place settings.” He picks up each spoon and fork and identifies it and when to use it. “Any questions?”

Our mouths are hanging. I shake my head, he throws deuces, and leaves. I look around.

“Yeah, yo hood ain’t like mine, son. I know bullet holes. He knows soup spoons.” We all snicker.

“Don’t worry.” We turn. Caro’s just walked in, looking too happy. “Before this day is over, you’ll know all your spoons by sight.”

“Doubt that,” Levi mutters.

“Really? Because I don’t.” Caro’s gone hands on hips and we still. “You men are capable of picking up ‘skips’,”— She looks at me. I nod —”men fleeing the justice system and you can identify them on crowded NYC streets and you’re telling me that you can’t get one spoon correctly identified? You know how to prevent burglaries and you watch monitors to protect businesses, but wine glasses confuse you?”

OK, feelin’ a little crunchy there.

She sniffs. “I know you men are smarter than that. This is going to be like algebra. You know that but when is the last time you actually had to call on that knowledge?”

Everyone snorts. “What?” Doobie asks, but I’m thinking on that.

“Yesterday.” Everyone looks at me. “Yo, the case Teo was looking at with Westchester PD.”

“Blood spatter case?” Johno asks. He and Jordan are the resident sharpshooters and he and Teo worked that case. I nod. “Yeah, good point. You got a wall, you got a dead body, you need to know how close the body was to the wall, how close the shooter was to the victim, all that stuff. Pythagorean theorem. That’s the math behind it.”

Everyone’s looking at me and I blush. “Yo, GED, son. Teo’s makin’ it real.” I sit for that sucker tomorrow. I’m ready.

Everyone stares at me. Doobie snickers, then starts laughing, then everyone starts laughing. Doobie slaps my back, shaking his head.

Caro smiles. “Exactly. So let’s get started.”

—oOo—

We smell delicious things coming from the prep room but we’ve been ordered to stay out. Tater pops his head out and grins. “I hate you guys. Damn, I wish I could eat this dinner.”

“Good?”

“Hell yes.” He shakes his head and walks off. Javi and Jorge walk in, smiling.

“You already know your soup spoons, son. Bye,” I tell him.

He flips me a finger. “I’m needed for part of this, trust me, but you’re still leading. Don’t forget that.”

Crap. There’s a test here.

Caroline bounces her happy ass into the room. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Are we feeling confident enough to tackle a dinner?”

“HUA!“

“Great! Now, I’ve asked a few of my colleagues to join us because I want you to practice dining with ladies also.”

I hear Levi whistle. “Food and ladies? Nice! Glad I went light on the cologne today.”

No you didn’t, bro.

Every man in the room is excited about this now. Caroline’s friends walk in and they try not to drool. I’m looking for Ms. Sexy and she’s at the front of the group. I’m staring again and Javi pokes me and inclines his head slightly, a half smile on his face.

Oh. Gotcha, partner.

I step forward, a winning smile on my face. “Ladies, welcome to RangeMan. I’m McKinley Odom but please, call me Mack. I’m the head of Security Administration here and we thank you for taking the time today to come assist Caroline.”

I hear a snicker behind me at the use of my full name but I’m immediately looking at twenty beautiful smiles. Where did Caro meet these women? Goddamn!

Ms. Sexy steps forward, an answering smile on her face. “Thank you, Mack. I’m Andrea Wilson and it’s a pleasure to be here.” She takes my hand and I shake, trying to remember the rules for shaking hands with ladies. I must pass because she smiles big and turns and introduces her friends.

Once she finishes her introductions, I turn and introduce Javi, who smiles and takes the lead in introducing the rest of the men. I watch as he and Jorge split the ladies up and get them moving in the room. I swear, I learn twice as much just watching them. Drake arrives and is introduced and I see he’s somewhere between me and Jorge in the skills. He knows how not to step all wrong, but he not as smooth as Jorge and Javi.

I slide over to Caroline. “Practicing introductions again?” I whisper.

“And how to work a room.” She smiles. “Go on. I hear you and Jorge are dangerous in a business setting.”

I smile and start circulating. After fifteen minutes, Caroline rings a bell and smiles. “Wonderful! Now, I’d like to walk through the rules for taking your seat at the table.”

Doobie looks over in astonishment. “There are rules for that?” He stares at Javi. “This is exhausting! I understand approach chair, sit, try not to land on the floor. How’d this get complicated?”

Everyone laughs. Andrea is standing next to me and she turns toward me slightly to hide her giggles. I look at her and she smiles. “Caroline told me you guys were hilarious but I see she understated, as usual.”

I grin. “We real.”

She shakes her head. “Unpretentious.” She looks at me seriously, amusement clear in her pretty brown eyes. “That’s how she’s been describing all of you and I can tell she’s right.”

I’m wondering what the fuck that means. Unpretentious. Is that good or bad?

New word to learn.

We start going through ‘the rules’. The lady follows the maitre’d. If you get a booth, the lady gets the booth and the men get the chairs. All ladies should sit before the men sit. If you’re seated next to a lady, you help the lady with her chair if she’s sitting to your right. We haven’t even sat down yet and we got rules spinning through our heads!

Finally, we’re shown how to take our seats. Jorge and Caroline walk through how to help a lady sit and I’m astonished. There’s a whole set a rules behind sitting! Doobie catches my eyes and I try not to break. He’s keeping count of the rules on his fingers. By the time Caroline’s actually seated, he’s up to seven.

I look at Andrea and she has tears running down her cheeks. “Is that Doobie?” she whispers. I nod. “I heard he’s paying close attention.”

“So am I but damn! These rules almost make it seem like y’all helpless.”

Andrea nods, calming down. “It can seem that way, but the idea is to reinforce the concept that deference and respect should be given. You treat a lady like a lady, especially if you want her business.”

I nod. That’s on point.

“OK! So let’s proceed into the dining room and take our seats.”

I’m looking around to see what’s up. Everyone’s looking around confused.

Javi smiles at me and widens his eyes. I stare back at him. He cuts his eyes at Caroline, then bugs them back out at me.

Oh!

I turn and give Caroline my most charming smile. “Caro, my apologies. May I escort you to your seat?”

“Thank you, Mack.” She slides through the crowd, catches my arm, and we lead the way to the conference room.

—oOo—

It’s two ladies and four men at each table in Conference One and we get Andrea and Pam. Yes! My good deed for the day paid off! We stand behind the chairs as Andrea begins refreshing us on the place settings and helping us remember what to use when. She goes through napkin etiquette (What!) and basic rules, like no cell phones and text messaging.

“We know that’s a ‘Duh’, but we end up reminding people every time,” Pam says.

“We’re cool. Reminders are good,” Doobie says.

“Great. Let’s take our seats.”

Since I’m on her left, I help Andrea take her seat and we smooth with it. Again, I hold her hand and have a hard time letting it go. Javi smiles and winks at me across the table, then watches Levi pull it off with Pam. Lucia and the Wall Street men walk in with the first course, something on an Asian soup spoon.

I stare at it. It looks like tomato soup but in a perfect little ball. How did Lucia do that?

“This is known as an amuse-bouche,” Andrea says. “It’s usually a gift from the chef, something that sums up their cooking philosophy in one bite and that’s important. It needs to be eaten in one bite.”

We watch her pick it up and tip the spoon into her mouth. OK, she’s not chewing. Her tongue is working that. Her tongue is really working that and she lets out a low moan of pleasure.

I feel someone kick me. FUCK! That shit hurt! I kick Doobie back. “Oof,” he mutters. “Fine. Next time I’ll let you hump her leg.”

Cringe. I look over at Javi, since he has a clear view of my face. Javi’s wiping tears from his eyes.

“My bad, son,” I whisper to Doobie.

“Got your back. Besides, you’re too old for a bib.”

I cut my eyes at him but Levi and Javi are watching and trying to hide smiles. I’ll let it go.

I pick my amusey-thing up and try to eat it. Yup, tomato soup but chewy and spicy. “I wonder how she made that,” I mutter. Not bad, but the chewy part’s not cool.

“Gelatin,” Andrea answers. “Just to shape it. How did you like it?”

“Not bad.” I grin. “And if I thought it was horrible, I’d never say so. Lucia’s wild in the kitchen. I’m not telling her I don’t like her swerve.”

She laughs. I reach for my water, stop, check, and smile. Yeah, right glass. I take a quick sip and wait.

“What do you think she was trying to tell you about her cooking philosophy?”

I think about that for a second. “Well, it’s tomato soup, which is healthy most of the time, the way Lucia cooks it. Yo, she’ll buy like, fresh tomatoes in the summer?” She nods. “And she cooks the hell out of ’em. Turns it into spaghetti sauce and soup and stuff. So, tomato soup is healthy, but then you see that ball and my first thought was, ‘What the hell?'” She laughs. “Then I taste it and it’s Lucia’s tomato soup but spicy and chewy.” I sit back. “I dunno. I guess I thought ‘Healthy gone wild’.”

Andrea is smiling big at me. “That was my thought. It tasted like some of the organic tomato soups I pay an arm and a leg for in Stamford. A smooth gazpacho in a way, something acceptable to everyone but it has a Latin background and kick.”

Damn! That’s deep. I wonder what she’d say about hot wings.

“I hear the diet around here is all natural and healthy?” I nod. “Yeah, so I guess my thought would be that Lucia is reminding everyone that just because it’s all natural and healthy, that doesn’t mean she can’t surprise you.”

“Nice observation,” Javi says. “That was my thought. Plus, the way you described the flavor is Lucia. A Latin background and she’s fiery. Definitely some spice to Lucia, as our Miami brothers have learned.”

We snicker but, again, that’s deep. I stare at my soup spoon, wondering what else Lucia was trying to say. Everyone else at the table says what they thought about the ‘amuse-bouche’ as the Wall Street guys bus the table.

“So, was that the first course?” I ask Andrea.

“No. This is the first course.”

Shrimp cocktail. I grin, ready to dive in, when I realize there’s a trick here.

“Yo, I’m guessing we need to eat this with knife and fork?”

She smiles. “You got it.”

Fuck.

“In a formal business meal, whether it’s lunch or dinner, you need to choose meals that don’t require manipulation,” Pam says. “No fried chicken, no sandwiches, nothing you have to pick up. You want your attention to remain on your dining partner. So, when you have shellfish, you need to be able to shell it with your knife and fork and eat it that way unless it’s something that comes in a hard shell, like oysters or clams.”

Lucia left the shells on. Aw damn! This entire meal is meant to fuck with me!

—oOo—

Andrea taps my arm. “So Mack, tell me about yourself.”

I hate that fucking question when I’m tryna eat. “What would you like to know?”

She smiles. “Well, how long have you worked at RangeMan?”

I’m still working on the shrimp, but somehow we get some convo started at the table. I look at my bros and realize these fuckers are trying to mack Andrea and, for some reason, I’m not feeling it. She smiled at me first, assholes! I rescued her off the side of the road! Back off! Gimme time to get shot down before you nose in!

We finish the shrimp cocktail and I’m thinking I’m never ordering that in a restaurant. Fifteen minutes to peel and eat five large shrimp with a knife and fork? Nah, son. Gimme my shrimp fried in a basket with some fries and I’m good. Tater tots in a pinch. I can eat that with one hand.

Lucia walks in with the next course and I’m certain this meal is meant to fuck with me.

French Onion Soup.

I’ve never been able to eat this without drama. I’m looking at it, pissed, when Andrea speaks.

“We asked for this one because it’s the soup that usually causes the most problems. The trick is to treat the cheese like spaghetti.”

We all lean forward and watch as she breaks a little bit of the cheese against her soup bowl, twirls it around her spoon, and lifts. Nothing is trailing. I’m stumped. I look at my soup and try to mimic what she did. I’m almost successful, which I’m kinda proud about. I look over. Javi’s not having a problem. Lucky fuck. I do it again and I’m smooth. I grin. Hell Yeah!

Andrea turns to Levi, who immediately starts trying to mack her. She’s smiling and laughing at him and I’ve never hated the ‘Puerto Rican Playa’ more than I do right now.

All the lovely ladies I was seeing around Brooklyn were informed that I’m on hiatus the moment I picked up the boys. They come first and they don’t need to see Daddy with woman after woman. People already think men are dogs. I’m not bringing anyone into the boys’ lives that won’t be there for a while.

Hearing what Med said before Thanksgiving, about Yala wondering who I’m fucking, pissed me off but I let it go. She’s always been suspicious like that. It’s why she’s no longer my wifey.

With them in the house, my sex life has died. Yo, my ‘sex life’ is ten quick minutes in the shower every morning before the boys get up. Door locked. Tater did right to hide the Playboys and condoms. Daddy sacrifices, yo. The moment he starts getting a little play, it’s back to solo flying.

Thomas is still riding my ass about letting them see me date. Gotta meet a woman worthy of the boys first. I realized the ladies I was seeing were good for some play, but not to meet the boys. I glance at Ms. Sexy. Maybe. We seemed to get along good on the ride in. She’s funny and she liked to tease me when she quizzed me from Caro’s book.

Lucia brings the next course, a small piece of salmon. It comes with its own knife and fork, so we’re clear there. We wait for the trick.

“Let’s discuss continental vs. American flatware handling.”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“In Europe, they hold the fork in the left hand during dinner. For a fish course with a firm fish, that’s the correct and proper way to eat. You’re not cutting the fish; you’re merely breaking the fish apart. With a soft fish, you can just use the fork.” She shows us how it works and I’m immediately switch my fork to the left and start trying to eat that way. It’s awkward. I look over and Javi is not having a problem.

Fuck. I might need to start eating meals that require fork and spoon. My ass is rusty.

“Yo, fish and chips?” Levi asks.

“Knife and fork,” Pam replies.

“Catfish?”

“How hard is it fried?”

Doobie nods. “You don’t miss a trick, do you?”

She smiles.

We get ice cream next. Andrea waits to see what we choose.

“Hmm … soft desserts use a spoon,” Levi mutters. “Hard desserts use a fork. Cake uses a fork.” He looks up and around at us. “But is this dessert? This is the middle of the meal.”

“Pie ala mode?” Pam asks.

“Shit,” Doobie says, glaring at the silverware. “Fork and spoon, I think.”

I pick up my spoon and glance at Javi. His mouth twitches.

“Sure?”

“No.”

“Why?”

I dunno. I can’t remember the rule, but it’s ice cream. Who eats that with a fork? There’s gotta be some common sense here, right?

Javi picks up his spoon. I glance at Andrea. She’s picking up a spoon.

We relax and smile.

“You had the rule exactly right, Levi,” Pam says. He grins big and digs into the ice cream. “This is a light sorbet, grapefruit, to refresh your palate.”

“What’s the point of this?” Levi asks, holding his forehead. We’re all snorting, trying not to laugh.

“Grown man with an ice cream headache,” Javi says. “Didn’t your momma teach you to take small bites?”

“Fuck off, boss.”

That gets a round of laughter.

“Everything you’ve eaten has dulled your taste buds. Grapefruit is sour but not too sour. It will wake up your mouth for the next course. Plus it’s cold. You’ve had two warm dishes and you’re about to have the main entree. This will help your mouth appreciate it.”

We dig in. It’s not bad. Not as sour as I thought it would be.

“Believe me, I’ve appreciated everything so far today,” Levi says smiling.

“Yeah. This is definitely real,” Doobie says.

Andrea turns to me. “What have you liked most, so far?”

I’m thinking. “I can finally eat French Onion soup without making a mess.”

She smiles. “Then I’ve been successful today.”

“We give you your props.” I smile. “So, how did you get into this business?”

She bites her lip.

Now, not a lot of things set me off, but there’s nothing sexier than watching a woman bite her lip. All I can think is, ‘Nah, miss. Let me.” I watch her lift her eyes back up to me and start talking, but I’m still looking at her lips.

I’m jealous of red lipstick. I need a few minutes in the shower tonight.

We keep going, a filet mignon next, and get a curveball.

Pam and Andrea pick up the asparagus with their fingers.

I look at Javi. He’s eating it with a knife and fork. I look at Levi and Doobie. We don’t know who to follow.

Pam smiles. “Here’s the rule. Asparagus that’s firm and not sauced can be picked up and eaten. It’s considered a finger food in many countries, especially Europe. But, if you see others eating it with knife and fork and you feel more comfortable eating it like that, do so. Asparagus is one of the rare vegetables where it doesn’t matter because you’ll be right.”

I look at Javi. “Imma get you for that, son.”

He laughs. “Sorry. I always eat them with knife and fork. It’s just easier.”

“Did you know the rule?” Levi asks, ticked. Javi nods.

Fucker. Imma leave him in Manhattan at rush hour for that.

We get a salad next. We know the silverware for that, but we get small lessons on how to eat it. I’m feeling full, but not stuffed like I thought I would be.

“OK, that’s how many courses?” I ask.

“Six so far,” Pam replies. I stare at my plate. Damn. Six small meals. “The last two are cheese and dessert and these items will complement each other.”

Dessert is creme brulee with raspberries. It’s creamy and sweet, like my abuela’s flan, so I enjoy that. Lucia serves it with strong coffee and we learn about coffee spoons and the ‘rules’ around that. The final course is pears with brie and cheddar, another fork and knife production.

I’m stuffed. That was enough. Dinner is just for the boys tonight. Daddy’s not hungry at all. Shit, Daddy’s got a few other appetites he wants to handle and can’t.

I glance at Andrea, who is laughing at Levi’s game. I turn my head and kick Doobie under the table. He winces and I catch part of the convo.

“Yo, I mean, who really likes that tall, macho, clean-cut look anyway? Mack’s got nothing on me.” She giggles harder and I lean back a little, tryin’ to listen to what he’s tryin’ to holla.

“You need a man who’s fun and likes to club and party. Mack? Mack’s boring. He’s all about the hustle and working out. Homie’s serious about his swerve. I mean, at best, you might get a sweaty basketball game on the weekends and who really wants to look at a hot sweaty man at the end of the day? I’m pretty and I like looking good.”

She’s laughing like this is the funniest shit ever and I’m hurt. I put my blank face in place and turn my head to Levi.

He catches my eye and winks.

What the fuck is he up to? Is he … is he … is he trying to talk me up to Andrea? I glance at Javi. Javi’s trying not to laugh.

“So I have a choice between hot, sweaty and sexy and a pretty club hopper?” She whispers. She bites her lips again and glances at me.

Sexy? Aigh, Levi. Handle that for a bro. I can’t figure out how to holla at her. She’s . . . shy. I pretend I haven’t heard anything and smile at her.

“What?” Everyone laughs. I pretend complete confusion. “Yo, don’t leave homie outta the joke! What’s good?”

“Yo, mamí’s peepin’ the game,” Levi jokes. “Back off. I’m tryna line up my Friday night date.”

I snort. “Yeah. Date Levi. Levi’ll be in your closet talking shit about your clothes and your shoes.” I imitate his voice. “You still rockin’ those? Yo, son, those kicks were three years ago!”

Every table around us starts laughing. I was louder than I thought and Andrea is crackin’ up. Javi has tears runnin’ down his face and Drake, sitting at the table next to us, choked on his water. Caro’s poundin’ his back, trying to hide her grin.

I grin at Andrea. “Yo, don’t get me wrong. If you like the brother who’s too pretty to fight at the club because he might bruise“—everyone outta my RangeMan class cracks up, remembering that almost-fight at the club—”Levi’s your man. He’ll have you color coordinated, buffed, shined, and looking pretty. I mean, you’ll never look prettier than him but you know.” I shrug and grin at Levi, who is flippin’ me a bird. “Dem’ da breaks.”

The entire room is laughing. I smile, wondering how to turn this back around to me.

“Well, it’s not like Mack’s that interesting,” Doobie says, leaning forward.

“Careful, son. Deer Park is kickin’ it right now.” I reply. Doobie flips me a bird, knowing I’d never do that shit to him for minor shit. Doobie was my partner until Les partnered me with Javi, so he knows me. I wanna see how he plans to swing this.

Man, the brotherhood is deep. This is another reason not to leave NYC. I went through hell with these guys and, even now, they got my back.

“Why not?” Andrea says, leaning forward. She’s moved closer to me, to move closer to Doobie, so I lean back a little, and enjoy the view down the front of her sweater.

“Mack’s boring. I mean, the man spends hours in the gym trying to turn his eight-pack into a Muscle and Fitness cover.” I flip him a bird. She glances at my stomach. “Seriously! He needs some hobbies.”

“I play ball.”

“In the winter?” she asks.

“Athletic league. I’m good.”

Javi snorts. “Dominates the half-court.”

“So what are your hobbies?” she asks.

The entire room is quiet. Everyone’s watching our table and I feel on the spot. I think for a moment then shrug. “They know me. I’m boring. No drama. I play ball. I work, I sleep, I work out, I take care of my boys.” I check my watch. “Time for me to pick ’em up soon.”

“Xbox? Playstation? Wii?” Another lady asks.

I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Sports?” “Computer games?” “Art?” “Music?” “Travel?” Now all the ladies are asking. I shake my head.

“Porn?” Pam asks. “Kinky sex? Are you gay?”

Every man laughs. I blush.

“Yeah, Mack doesn’t have a problem finding women. They find him,” Levi says. “Shit, I’ve seen women trip over themselves trying to get his attention.”

Andrea’s smile drops. So does every other woman’s. I drop the smile and look deep in her eyes. “People already think men are dogs. My boys watch everything I do. They’ve never watched Daddy parade women through his apartment. I keep my life simple ‘cuz I want the boys to see a good example. Work hard, hustle, do what’s right. That’s how I got where I am now.”

“I respect that,” she says quietly.

I look at Levi, who’s pale. “Man, you suck as a reference.” I smile so he knows I’m not angry. He was tryna be funny. It didn’t work but I’m not mad. He relaxes.

“Yeah, I bombed that. My bad. Mack’s not a playa. I am.” He grins and there are a few smiles. “But homie is a walking IMDB. Ask him about movies and actors and he knows it.”

“Really?” She looks intrigued. “Favorite show?”

“Right now? House of Cards. Man, Netflix is my girlfriend.” I grin.

“Me too! Have you seen the British version?”

Everyone groans. I grin. “That’s your answer.”

She laughs. “Your co-workers weren’t the only ones who groaned. I’ve talked their ears off about Ian Richardson!”

“Yeah. Same here.”

“Yeah, we’re over that,” Doobie says. “We like to joke on Mack. He can take it.” He grins. “We could talk about your—”

“Amazing skin!” Everyone yells. The guys laugh and Jorge tells the story of how we got Fashion Week. I hide my face through the story and, after, all the ladies crowd around and stare at my face.

“You do have great skin,” Caro says, staring. “Your pores are amazing.”

Again, everyone laughs. I sigh. “One day, you ladies are gonna explain what the hell that means.”

—oOo—

I’m looking at my demitasse cup.

Coffee cup. It’s a fucking coffee cup. Fine dining is more complicated than it needs to be.

“Well, I can say that not a single man at this table made a single dining faux pas,” Andrea says. “You men can handle yourselves anywhere.” She smiles. “And if you couldn’t, you’re confident enough to make the other guy wonder if he‘s wrong.”

We grin. Now that’s what we wanna hear!

Our ‘servers’ come around and present me with a leather folio. I take it and frown. There’s a message. There’s an art to handling the check. Practice now.

“Oh! What’s our share of dinner?” Pam asks.

I look up. Javi’s sipping his coffee, smiling at me. This is why I’m the ‘ranking’ man at this table. I need to close this down. I try to remember what I’ve seen Jorge do.

“Ladies, you were our guests today. Please, allow me.”

“No, we insist,” Andrea says, reaching for her purse.

I flick a panicked look at Javi, not sure what to do now. Pam catches my look. She and Andrea wait for my response, but I’m confused. What’s the right move here?

Ha! Memory hits!

“No, I insist. RangeMan is graced with your presence today. Only right that RangeMan show its appreciation. We insist. “

Man, I gotta come up with a line that works for me. That’s definitely Jorge’s line.

Pam and Andrea smile and put away their checkbooks. Javi gives me a quick nod. Good; I handled that right.

I put my credit card in the folio and write a quick note: You run that and I’ll kill you. Mack.

Tater comes back by, takes the folio, and disappears. He returns with a massive smile. I open it and look.

Are you telling me you didn’t enjoy my meal, Mack?

I pretend to sign the check and hand it back to Tater. “Let the Chef know that she’s appreciated and loved and this was excellent.”

“Agreed,” Javi says, lifting his coffee cup. Tater nods and walks off.

I look at Javi. He smiles at Doobie and Levi too. “You want to make handling the check a neutral experience. Always ensure the waiter knows at the beginning of the meal to bring you the check and if there’s a dispute over who pays, tell your guests that they are guests of the company. Everyone understands expensing to the company, so that should stop any attempts to split the check.”

We all nod. “So, basically, Jorge’s been sticking you with the bills?” I ask.

“I told him to cut back on the wine at lunch.”

No wonder homie never looks at prices!

“Well, this has been wonderful, gentleman, an experience none of us will forget any time soon,” Pam says, standing. We all stand and shake hands. I nod at Johno and Levi to escort Pam, Andrea, and all the ladies out.

I’m watching those sexy legs disappear. Man, she’s beautiful. I wonder if Caro will bring her back.

The conference room door closes and we start partying!

Yes! We passed the rules! We can dine anywhere!

The guys start clearing the tables and getting everything ready to be washed and returned to Lucia or Etiquette Masters. Javi’s phone beeps and he checks, then yells.

“Fuck yes!”

We stare. Javi cursing? Javi waves his arms like an idiot and me, Jorge, and Drake run over. He turns his phone to us and we stare. Jorge and I immediately pull our phones and check.

Drake gets straight to the point.

“Who’s number ONE, motherfuckers? Fuck Trenton! It’s all about NYC, baby!“

—oOo—

The news travels fast. Drake’s cell phone blows up ten seconds after the party started here but my mind is still on a sweet set of legs. I’m wondering if I shoulda tried to slip Andrea my number. She was sharp. I look at Javi.

“What’s unpretentious mean?”

Javi smiles. “Real. You are who you are and you’re not trying to impress anyone by being someone you’re not.”

That’s what I said but I guess that big ass word sounds classier. I think fast and pull my business card, write my number on the back and decide to take a chance.

I hustle to the first floor. Caroline, Pam and Andrea are still there, rapping with Jorge. I approach quietly and incline my head to Andrea, who steps off with a smile.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re gonna come back with Caro, but I meant what I said when you arrived. Glad you came and thank you. My card.” I hand her my card.

She smiles. “Thank you.” She pulls her card holder and passes me one. “It was a pleasure to meet you Mack and thank you so much for deciding to pull over and help. I appreciate that.”

“My good deed for the day.”

“Well, your good deed was providence indeed. I hope to see you again.”

I grin big. “Pleasure was mine and I’d love to see you again.”

She winks. “Then I expect my card won’t get lost.” She waves and she, Pam and Caro leave.

The booty is sharp and the way she works it in those high heels . . .

long heel, red bottoms, long heel, red bottoms
long heel, red bottoms, long heel, red bottoms
stay up, stay up, stay up, stay up, in your
stay up, stay up, stay up, stay up, in your

I wonder how she feels about kids. Can’t introduce her yet, though. Gotta see what she’s about. I’m not taking just anyone around the boys. Everything’s too confusing right now.

Jorge turns and starts laughing his ass off. I’m startled because I’m watching Andrea’s legs disappear into the Town Car. “Homie, if you’d taken any longer I woulda truly started stalling for time.” I look at him in astonishment and he claps me on the back. We hit the stairwell, Jorge still grinning. “Andrea was waiting for you to hustle your ass down here. Check that card.”

I look at the back. Two phone numbers. Home and personal cell.

I hit 3 feeling like the big dog.

—oOo—

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“When’s Mommy coming home?”

“I don’t know, son.”

For once, there’s no follow-up. I think the boys are finally beginning to accept that Daddy doesn’t have an answer for this question.

I spot an Italian place that Jorge and Javi talk about all the time up ahead. I pull some slick driving and park. “Dinner.”

The boys climb out and we cross the street. We sit and the boys order plates of spaghetti. It arrives and looks good. Med and Midi tuck their napkins into their shirts and I stop them.

“Nope. Napkins in your laps.”

I take a moment and rearrange the glasses and plates while they put their napkins in their laps.

“Yo, let’s talk table manners here.”

NYC is number one now and the Boss Lady is coming next week. I don’t know if her nieces know this stuff, but my boys aren’t gonna be embarrassed. Time to start practicing now. I go through the table settings and the boys eat neatly, wiping their mouths properly. They need some practice. I guess we’re eating meals that need knives and forks for the next week.

I reach in my jacket pocket to pull out my wallet and a card falls out. I stare at it for a moment before remembering this was the card Javi gave me before the last session. I never read it and, after Yala was locked up, I guess I never thought about it. I open it up, curious.

I am not a hood. I might be from the hood but the hood does not define me. I live in NYC, capital of the world. I‘m from Brooklyn, KINGS County, and I‘m an American King. I’m a hustler, a businessman, a RangeMan. A father. A boss. A good partner and a damn good friend. And at the end of the day what people will say about me was that I was a damn good MAN.

I stare at this index card for what seems like hours before smiling.

Yeah.

Yeah! Damn right!

I look at my boys. This dinner with the Boss Lady is gonna be the first time in months that the boys have been outside Brooklyn. My boys might be from the hood, but they aren’t hood. They’re Princes, Kings in the making! Imma make sure they learn all that stuff they need to know so that someday, they can dine with Kings and Princes and be smooth. No one is gonna look at my boys and think shit ’bout ’em just cuz they’re from the hood.

No one.

I fold that back up and put it in my pocket. Imma post that on the back of my front door big and bold. The last thing I’ll see every day before I go out to conquer the world.

I’m a man and I have sons. I’m a King, with Princes to show the way. Bring it on, motherfuckers. Bring it on.