Page 117 of Don Caselli

“You be fucking in your office?”

“What?” Alex blurted. “No, no, no… I needed to make sure she had the right cards for her little girls’ trip with her friends.”

Me nor Menace were convinced by his bullshit explanation. Judging from how sloppily his shirt was tucked, and how quick and fidgety he was moving, he was fucking Kennedy in his office while he had us waiting.

I hated that for her.

“I never realized just how much you both look alike,” Alex decided to make small talk, talking about how much me and Menace resembled one another.

“You said you wanna fuck my brother next, Alex?”

“I never said that… sheesh,” Alex uncomfortably laughed, while fixing the loose strands that didn’t lay back with his slick back.

“I’m ugly?”

Menace stroked his beard. “Sounds like what he said, Don.”

Jeffie shook her head. “Enough you two… we are here for business,” she reminded us the reason we were even here.

“When I sit in places longer than I want to I start to flip out and do random shit. Playing with my gun, and aiming it and shit,” Menace yawned, as he looked around the table.

Every man at this table was a Case House client, and they all were terrified. Neither of them knew how to respond, but Alex used his common sense and didn’t know what to say.

“Word got back around that you’re selling the Sonics… you want a private sale before it goes to the media. I’ve drafted up an offer that I feel would work out for all parties.” Jeffie handed me the file that Menace had been holding when he entered the building.

Sliding it across the table, Alex’s lawyer took it and opened it up. With the way his eyes widened, I could tell there wouldn’t be any problems. The door opened and Zoya walked in with her bag resting on the crook of her arm. Beans moved from beside me, holding the chair out for her.

“Thanks, Beans,” she smiled, sitting down and looking across the table. “My apologies for being tardy. The traffic getting down here was crazy.”

“All that construction over downtown,” one of the lawyers spoke, understanding why she was late.

I looked at my sister, not smelling alcohol on her, but sensing something was off with her. Her eyes didn’t look like they usually did, and she didn’t seem as put together as she usually was.

“You straight, Zoy?”

Menace leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. I could see the concern on his face, as he looked at Zoya. “Straight?” he asked.

She looked at both of us. “Perfect. Now, you have the offer that we’re putting on the table. I’m not sure what other offersyou have received, but I can tell you that they aren’t as generous as that one.”

Alex took the folder, and I watched as he looked over the offer and there was a small smirk that came across his face. I didn’t know the reason he was selling a team that had been in his family for years. I assumed money problems because what else would be the reason. He was about to get two known rookies that were sure going to have the team going up even more than it already was.

Corleon sent me an email that made its way across his desk about Alex wanting to sell. He didn’t want to make it public until after the deal was signed, sealed and delivered. I’ve been looking into getting my money into other shit, and this was the perfect thing to put my money into.

“Two of you have to put your money together to make an offer this generous.”

“You called me broke, bitch?” Menace asked.

“Menace, of course not… just trying to make sure that this can be afforded.” Jeffie slapped her hand on her face, because why would he continue.

With the way he was already staring at him, why in the hell would he continued to ask how we could afford this. “Every business man knows never to put all your eggs in one basket, not when you can cook half, use the other for target practice, and have someone invest half.”

I didn’t know where this example he was giving was going, so I remained quiet. “The Caselli brothers can afford the team separately; however, they would like to go in on this business venture together,” Zoya explained.

I watched as she kept her hands under the table and shook out two pills from a prescription bottle. “This offer sounds perfect. I’d like to move ahead with you two as owners.”

“Three owners,” Menace corrected.

“Four,” I added.