Chapter 50
“Lucas, this is my wife, Marla.”
After Sheriff Tate’s bribe was paid, Napoleon took Lucas to his home in Rivera Heights. He lived on Long Island Boulevard, just two blocks away from Earl, who lived on Superior Lane. As they rode through the neighborhood in the 1951 Chevrolet Styleline convertible, Lucas was astonished by all the luxury. The mansions were huge and the grass was so green. In the shack he lived in, all they had was dirt. Nothing grew in his front yard, not even dandelions. Rivera Heights was even more impressive than Ashland Estates.
Lucas began to understand Johnnie’s reluctance to give up her home and all the trappings of a kept woman. He decided right then that he too would live well. When he got himself together financially, he and Johnnie would marry and start a family. And Ashland Estates was the perfect place to start.
“Napoleon, how much you gon’ pay me to run numbers for you?” Lucas asked when they pulled into the driveway.
“How does twenty-five a week sound?”
“I was thinkin’ more like fifty.”
“Fifty?” Napoleon repeated. “I’ve never started any runner off with that kind of dough. Then again, none of them were smart enough to ask, Lucas. I can see I was right about you. You’re a smart kid who can handle himself on the streets. Stick with me and you’ll make a lot more than fifty a week.”
“Yeah?” Lucas said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Napoleon said. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. When that gal of yours sees you, she won’t even recognize you.”
Lucas was dazzled by an elegance he was unprepared for. The size of the living room was staggering. There was thick carpeting, expensive furniture, a cobblestone fireplace, plants in large orange pots, all sorts of ceramic trinkets, and a grandfather clock that was chiming.
“Wow!” Lucas couldn’t help saying. “This is really nice, Napoleon.”
“Thanks, my man,” Napoleon said, then called out for his wife. “Marla!”
Marla walked into the room wearing an apron around a pair of cream-colored pants and a sleeveless cream-colored blouse with zigzag patterns. Marla was a 38-year-old, five-six blonde bombshell. To look at her, you couldn’t tell she had two children in college. Marla was flattered when she saw how Lucas was staring at her, like he wanted to rip her clothes off and thrust himself inside her with no regard for her. She found Lucas attractive too and smiled.
“Lucas, this is my wife, Marla,” Napoleon said gruffly, unaware of the thick cauldron of lust that was brewing. “Lucas is going to be working for me at the club. Get him some of my clothes, and burn the ones he’s wearing. I’m going to take him shopping.”
Lucas was taken aback a little by the way Napoleon talked to his wife. There was no way he’d talk to Johnnie like that. But hey, it ain’t none of my business.
“Lucas, why don’t you take a shower?” Napoleon asked. “When you’re done, take a dip in the pool. Marla will find you some clothes while I make a run. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Make yourself at home.”
“Are you hungry, Lucas?” Marla asked, sounding like a dutiful wife and mother. “I just baked an apple pie. Would you like a slice with some vanilla ice cream?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucas said. “But can I take a shower first?”
“Sure,” Marla said. “Right this way.”
“Don’t worry, Lucas,” Napoleon said, opening the front door. “Marla will take good care of you.”
Marla could smell the funk through the perfume like everyone else, but she too said nothing. She took him to the nearest bathroom. “Hand me your clothes when you take them off, and I’ll get you something to wear when you go shopping with Napoleon.”
“Thank you,” he said, entering the bathroom.
When he took off his clothes, he realized he didn’t have a fresh pair of underwear to put on. He took off everything anyway and handed the bundle to her through the door.