Page 7 of A Smooth Operator

"She said you gave it to her."

"Yeah, I did. Do you have some time for me now?" When I nodded, he continued, "I wanted to talk to you about Tommy and Lani."

We took the elevator to my father's office, and I looked around at the familiar space. I'd come here often as a kid and as a teenager. It had been a while, though.

"Why did you give Echo a Rolex, Dad?" I had to know.

He grinned. "The watch isn't all that expensive, but it is sentimental. Dr. Green gave it to me when I got my PhD. I've seen Echo grow up and work hard despite her circumstances. You know, I've been mentoring her the best I could over the years. Neither you nor Lani are into biotechnology, so I felt I should give it to Echo. Dr. Green would've approved."

My father's mentor had passed a few years ago, and I knew he had highly respected Dr. Green. No way he'd give that watch to someone he was fucking.

"Is she working out well at GeneVerse?" I asked, wanting to know if she was any good or a loser professionally as she was personally in social settings.

"Well might be too mild a word," Dad chuckled. "She's a star, Remi. Her new boss, our head of the Gene Therapy Lab, Dr. Martin Andersen, kisses the floor she walks on. She's hardworking and brilliant; so damn smart. This girl is going to do great things, and GeneVerse is going to have the patents for it."

Nah! He wasn't fucking her. He had that same look on his face that he got when he talked about my success. I'd been way off, but I'd known that deep down even when I was spewing my garbage at Echo.

"You wanted to talk to me about Lani and Tommy?" I reminded him, ignoring the guilt of hurting Echo.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Drink?"

I looked at my watch; it was six in the evening, so it was happy hour in Memphis. My watch was not a Rolex but a Philip Patek, which I'd inherited from my uncle Austin Drake, music producer extraordinaire and my mentor. He'd put a lot of blues musicians on the map. He was still one of my closest friends despite being my uncle. He'd helped me come up with a plan for my nightclub, helped me get financing, and hired the right people to run the business. Same with the restaurants. He'd sold his blues bar on Beale Street years ago, but he knew how to turn a profit in the difficult hospitality industry, and he'd taught me well.

"If you have a beer," I agreed.

Dad found two beers in a minifridge in the kitchen area of his office. He handed one to me and then sat in his office chair, his feet up on the table.

"I'm worried about Tommy and Lani getting married," he said, surprising me.

"Come on, Dad, y'all knew this would happen."

He waved a hand. "It's the timing of it. You know I hired Lani in the marketing department. Her manager tells me she barely does any work. She's cruising, and the truth is that if her last name weren't Drake, she'd be fired by now."

I shrugged. "Lani is still growing up and—"

"Lani is the same age as Echo, Remi, just three years younger than you. What were you doing when you were her age?" He drank some beer. " I spoke to Bill, and he has the same problem with Tommy."

Bill Spalding, Tommy's father, was a self-made man. He'd built a paper company out of nothing. I had enormous respect for him. Bill's older son, Trey, was the heir apparent. He was a smart, charismatic, and hardworking man. He was the opposite of Tommy—who was spoiled like Lani.

"Y'all allowed Lani and Tommy to do whatever the hell they wanted while they were growing up, and now you're wonderin' why they're not serious about work?"

Lani had no pressures as a child. I did. As the heir apparent to the Drake family fortune and legacy, I was expected to do something with my life and not just live off said fortune and legacy. It had been the same for Dad.

"You know it wasn't me," he replied quietly.

He was right. It was our mother who was responsible for Lani turning out as she had. Sierra Drake cared about appearances and money, and her goal was to make sure that everything appeared like it was perfect, even if it wasn't. It was a callous thing to think, but Lani was as vapid as Mama—and as superficial as well. I loved them both, but there was no denying that how they lived their lives was to show off the family money.

I'd never known Dad to ever say anything bad about my mother, no matter how much she aggravated him with her pettiness or blamed him for things he had no control over. There were times I worried he'd leave her. I didn't want my parents to split up. I'd worry about my mother without my father. Mama wouldn't be able to take care of herself. Lani would be crushed, and she'd take Mama's side, and I'd have to take Dad's. It would be a clusterfuck.

"I don't know what to say, Dad. You gave Lani a nepo job. You can't expect her to do any real work, can you?"

"You're right," Dad conceded. He touched the condensation around his beer bottle. "What's the rush to get married? She's not pregnant, is she?"

"No, she isn't." At least, I didn't think so. "Don't worry so much about Lani. She's probably going to quit her job in the next few days, saying she needs to focus all her energy on the wedding."

My father groaned. "Fuckin' hell but that's gonna be a circus, ain't it?"

"Yeah," I sympathized with the man. I could steer clear of Lani and Mama through them playing bridezilla and mother of bridezilla, but Dad had to live with his wife and probably Lani, for the most part, since mother and daughter would resent the hell out of each other as they prepped for the wedding. Despite feeling stifled by Mama, I knew that Lani wouldn't dream of managing her wedding on her own—which was a good thing because she'd fuck it up, considering how lazy she was.

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