Page 54 of Knight

JACKSON

It’s Monday morning. What a weekend. Saturday night was amazing. Darian was fire. I love her adventurous, naughty side. Actually, I love all of her sides and everything about her. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I think I’m in love with her, but she’s not quite ready to hear that.

I’m staring into space thinking of Darian when Donna buzzes me. “Yes, Donna.”

“Adolf Hitler is here to see you.”

“What?”

I hear her talking to someone away from the phone. “Oh, you said your name was Bryan Clarrett. I’m sorry, I thought you said Adolf Hitler.” I chuckle. I love Donna. “Mr. Knight, Mr. Clarrett is here to see you.”

“Tell him that I’m busy moisturizing.”

I hear Bryan yelling. “I can hear you prick. Trust me, you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.”

“Ugh. Fine. Let him in. Have security on stand-by.”

The severely out-of-shape slimeball walks into my office and plops down in a chair. With the way this guy sweats by merely sitting, I may have to replace the chair. Donna offers him a glass of cyanide, and he tells her to fuck off. She laughs and closes the door behind her on her way out.

“What do you want, Clarrett? I have a pedicure in ten minutes.”

“You’re hysterical, Knight. You won’t be laughing when you hear what I have to say.”

“Have at it. I can’t wait.”

“Are you still moving forward with donating the properties around the Megaplex to the government for low-income housing?” I guess he found out what I’m doing with the properties.

“Yes, would you like to donate? It’s a very worthy cause.”

“No, I would not.”

He wipes his sweaty brow and then smiles at me. “How’s the hot piece of ass you’ve been parading around town with for the past few months?”

“She’s none of your business. Stay away from her.” Where is he going with this?

“Did you know that I developed most of the properties on Monroe Street?”

“Congratulations. You turned a shitty neighborhood into a seedy neighborhood. You must be very proud.”

“There’s one property in particular in which I maintain an active ownership and management role. You may have heard of it. It’s called Club Yeur.” Shit. This can’t be good.

“I was there on Saturday night, and to my surprise, a certain squeaky clean, respected businessman walked in along with his equally squeaky, clean lawyer girlfriend. Let me assure you, they’re not so squeaky clean. In fact, they’re pretty filthy if you ask me.”

“What we do in our private time is our business. We’re allowed to go to a club. What is it you’re getting at?”

“You and your girl get a little freaky in there?”

“I’m about three seconds away from putting my fist in your face.”

“Did you know we have video functionality in the private rooms?”

“How wonderful for you. I would personally never disrespect my partner and utilize something like that.”

“Don’t worry, when I saw you come in, I turned it on for you.” He holds up a flash drive.

Oh my god. He has us on video.

“You have one week to kill the low-income housing deal. Otherwise, I release the video and your girl becomes an unwilling porn star.”

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