The Golden Hustla Read online

“Yeah, well, what I’m trying to figure out is, if Ted Branson lives all the way in Fort Worth, Texas, why is his nephew down here in Georgia, and how did he know this address? Our satellite office and everything else is in the Florida Keys!”

  “I don’t know.” Alexis shrugged.

  Rinaldo snatched the phone up and dialed Armand. “Hey. How soon can you get over here? We may have a situation.”

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes,” Armand assured Rinaldo.

  “Make it ten.” Click.

  “You want me to call Charlie?” Deanna offered.

  “No, no. Not yet. Let me see what’s up first,” Rinaldo told her. This was a small matter to Rinaldo. Nothing that he and his enforcer Armand couldn’t handle. No need to bother his business partner with this trivial bullshit.

  “Okay. Anything else?” Nina questioned.

  “No. I’ll take it from here.”

  Nina headed back to her office.

  “When Armand gets here, send him to my private lounge. Mr. Branson and I will be back there.”

  “I got it,” Deanna said, relieved that she did not have to do any more of Rinaldo’s dirty work.

  “Buzz him in.” Rinaldo stepped out into the hallway, awaiting Darwin’s presence. Rinaldo pasted a grin on his face and held out his hand when Darwin stepped in the hallway. “Mr. Branson? I’m Tommy Green.” Rinaldo was trying to size him up right quick as they shook hands. “That’s quite a grip you got there. Are you a Texan like your uncle?” Rinaldo joked and then slapped him on the back. He could smell the alcohol oozing out of his pores.

  “I’d like to think so. Are you the owner, Mr. Green?”

  “Tommy. Call me Tommy. I’m one of them. Let’s go back to the lounge area, where we can talk in private. You don’t look like you’re from around these parts. When did you get into town?” Rinaldo prodded.

  “I work for a Texas telecommunications company and we had a couple of seminars and a convention to attend to right here in Atlanta. I’ve been in your town since Monday.”

  Rinaldo keyed in the access code on the keypad to gain entry into the private lounge area. It was very plush and decorated in mauve and black. There was a small refrigerator, microwave, coffeemaker, a fully stocked wet bar and a huge black and mauve conference table surrounded by black leather swivel chairs. Rinaldo could see the approval on Darwin’s face and his demeanor calmed drastically.

  “What are you drinking, Mr. Branson?”

  The Texan smiled. “My kind of man. Darwin. Call me Darwin, Tommy. How about some black coffee with a shot of vodka?”

  “Coming right up.” Rinaldo poured the steaming black coffee into a mug and then put several shots of vodka in it. He poured himself a tall glass of carrot juice, placed the beverages on a tray and headed for the conference table. Darwin was approving the motivational plaques on the wall. “Here you go. Have a seat.”

  “I thank you kindly,” Darwin drawled as he placed his briefcase on the table. He reached for his coffee and remained standing.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Rinaldo encouraged.

  “Can you make this a tad bit stronger?” Darwin frowned as he sniffed his drink.

  “Sure can.” Rinaldo went and brought the bottle to the table and placed it in front of him.

  “Don’t be shy. Drink up. It’s just us fellas here.” Rinaldo watched as Darwin filled the rest of the mug up with the vodka. Then he sat down.

  “I sho’ do appreciate this. Nothing like some strong joe with a shot of vodka!”

  “So, Darwin, what can we do for you? You didn’t go through all this trouble to find us just to get a cup of joe with a shot of vodka. You can get that anywhere. Speak your mind.”

  “Hell, I sure didn’t. But it definitely makes my efforts worthwhile. ’Cause it wasn’t easy trackin’ you buzzards down. So I guess you would want me to cut to the chase?”

  “Cut to the chase,” Rinaldo again encouraged.

  Darwin poured more vodka into his coffe mug. “Well I’m sorta watching over my uncle Teddy. You know he’s pushing up on eighty years old soon and his mind ain’t at all like it used to be.” He popped open the briefcase and took out a red Pendaflex folder. “Okay, Tommy, I’m going to level with you. My uncle has been retired for almost sixteen years now. He retired from Enron.” He placed several Montblanc pens, golden brass calculators and golden brass key chains on the table. They were exquisitely engraved with the name TDB Enterprises. “Are these your products?”

  “They sure are,” Rinaldo stated proudly.

  “They’re very nice, but like I said, my uncle has been retired for almost sixteen years. And he is not a business owner. He barely gets around.” He pulled out some WMM sales sheets. “Now, what I’m trying to figure out is why would he spend fifteen thousand, fifteen thousand, thirty thousand, thirty thousand, and this one here fires me up, fifty thousand on these here trinkets?” He slid the sales sheets across the table to Rinaldo. “Exactly what kind of scheme do you people have going on here? He’s a senior citizen for Christ sakes!”

  “I understand your concern, Darwin. But does Mr. Branson know that you are here on his behalf? Because from what I understand he may be up in age, but he is very competent. We are a very reputable company and I believe that Mr. Branson buys our products just so he can get the gold American Eagle coins. And more than anything he is very fond of his sales rep. I think what he’s actually buying is happiness, entertainment and attention. Who are you to stop him?”

  “Geesh!” Darwin slammed the coffee mug down onto the table. “One hundred seventy thousand dollars?”

  “Darwin. It’s his money. Let him have some fun. He’s earned it. Wait. Wait a minute. Is he cutting into your inheritance?”

  “You damned right he is! I’m the last of Uncle Teddy’s family that’s worth leaving anything to,” Darwin unashamedly belted out. “This is fucking ridiculous and you know it!”

  “So, what do you want us to do about it? Stop selling him happiness because he’s now dipping into your pockets? What are we going to tell him? Uh, Ted, your nephew Darwin said you can no longer do business with our company anymore, because he feels that what you are shelling out could be better used by him?”

  “Look, Tommy. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Just give my uncle a refund of his money and we could end this amicably. Give me the refund and you have my word, I’ll go quietly.”

  “Refund? What are we supposed to do with all of these products? We can’t resell them. They have his name all over them, and what about the gold coins? He has thousands of dollars in gold coins, which I know he’s not going to return. So you see, Darwin, we don’t give refunds.”

  “Okay. You wanna play hardball? The Georgia Bureau of Investigation and the FBI would just love to get a complaint from a concerned citizen whose eighty-year-old uncle is being bilked and extorted out of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Now wouldn’t they? I have my resources and they are patiently collecting ammunition, and like I said, I would quietly walk away and not give them any help. You wouldn’t even remember that I was here. Just write me a check for a hundred and seventy thousand dollars and don’t contact my uncle anymore. Can we deal or not?”

  Rinaldo started laughing. “Darwin, you Texans got more balls than I imagined. I mean, to come into my place of business and threaten me? Blackmail me? Are you serious?”

  “I’m very serious. I didn’t spend all of this time and energy tracking you bastards down for nothing. At the rate my uncle is going, by the end of the year he would have given you bastards damn near a half million dollars. And that’s my damn money!” He reached for the vodka bottle and filled the coffee mug halfway once again. Can you pour me a little more of that black, would ya, Tommy?”

  “You’re the boss, Darwin.”

  “Okay, so we got a deal or what?”

  Rinaldo sighed as if he was seriously contemplating his offer, running his hands over his face and then scratching the back of his head. “Let me talk it over with my
partners and get back to you.”

  “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. Are you listening? When I leave this office I’m going back to Texas with two hundred seventy thousand dollars or I’m going down to the FBI.”

  “Two hundred seventy thousand dollars?” Rinaldo yelled. “Texan boy, you must be drunk already. ’Cause you just said a check for one-seventy and now you want another hundred thousand!”

  “Two seven zero. I must get back my investment. It took many resources to track you people down. Surprising what a few dollars, combing through phone records or trash cans find ya. I know about your office in the Florida Keys. You see, my uncle thinks your operation is in Florida. But I know it’s in Georgia. Real cute setup you got here. Real cute. So that’s why I’m upping the ante to two-seventy!”

  “Okay.” Rinaldo feigned an act of surrender. “I’ve heard enough. But there’s something still eating away at me. Who’s to say that once I give you what you want, you don’t leave me alone?”

  “Tommy. I’m from the old school. And in case you didn’t know, with us old-schoolers a handshake, a smile and our word is all that’s needed.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Rinaldo placed the pot of coffee in front of Darwin.

  “Good. Good move, Tommy boy. I’ll just help myself to another drink while you go and get that check.”

  Rinaldo stood up and asked, “So, who knows you’re here? Does your uncle know?”

  “Not a soul, Tommy boy,” he said as he loosened his tie. “Not a soul. Go ahead. Run along. I’ll be right here waiting on that check.” Rinaldo could see the gleam in Darwin’s eyes. He headed for his office, where Armand was patiently waiting.

  “What’s the deal, boss?” Armand stood up to greet Rinaldo. His tight suit looked as if it was about to burst. His hands were big as baseball mitts. He was a Rinaldo wannabe. His dirty blond hair was slicked back into a greasy ponytail.

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. I have a Texan guest in my office. I want him to follow you to the other office. He wants to pick up a check.” Rinaldo eyed Armand. “Take care of him.” Those were the only words needed.

  Darwin Branson was seated patiently in the law offices of Bells and Gray. The relaxing music was teasing him and luring him into a nod. Almost thirty minutes ago, he shook hands with Rinaldo, thanked him and followed Armand to the lawyer’s office. Oblivious to the figure easing from behind the sliding door, Darwin was fantasizing on what he would do with the two hundred seventy thousand big ones. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to muscle Tommy Green. His first order of business would be to handle the $150,000 gambling debt. Everything else would fall into place. Just as he stretched his arms and yawned, a thin wire was wrapped around his neck. Armand pulled tighter and tighter. Darwin kicked wildly while trying to grab Armand and loosen his grip. No longer receiving oxygen, Darwin’s eyes damn near bulged out of their sockets as he pissed and released his bowels on himself, all while concentrating on catching a breath. There was no more.

  Darwin was dead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SHOW ME THE MONEY

  We Make Millionaires was the name of the company, and the company’s slogan. It didn’t apply to the clients, but to the salespeople. And Rinaldo was relentless when it came to making that money.

  Rinaldo was born and raised in Centralia, Illinois, in a trailer park community called Central City. It was on the north side of town, where most whites were considered poor, white trailer trash. Times were not too bad while their father, Simeon Sr., was there. But when Rinaldo turned seven, Simeon Sr. was gone. His mother, Hazel, did the best she could during that first year. She applied for welfare and took a job at a local tavern. She was uneducated but made sure the boys went to school. The next year, Hazel picked up a drinking habit and shortly after that, the family of three was living from shelter to shelter and eventually on the streets. Rinaldo swore that once he was able, he would make as much money as he could. Making money became an obsession.

  In the office, he hounded the salespeople the entire shift. There was only one of him but he made you think he had a bunch of clones. He was all over the office. Two nights out of the week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, were late nights. The salespeople had to focus on potential clients on the West Coast. He also made them work on Saturdays whenever the sales numbers for the week were below his quota. Below quota was when sales were less than $500,000. Alexis would bring in over $100,000 a week by herself. She remained hungry and was determined to be the best at whatever she did.

  All the Platinum salespeople barged out of the morning sales meeting wanting to draw blood. Besides already hitting his Platinum Sales Team up for $1,000 every time they were late, he was also assessing $1,000 per day that they did not make a sale. He told them that there was no reason not to make a sale in an eight-hour period. He claimed that he did not need the measly $1,000. It was the principle of the matter. He prided himself with training and handpicking his Platinum sales force. He had to admit that they were damned good. Five Platinum salespeople at $100,000 a week, that was almost a guaranteed half million dollars in sales every seven days. What the beginning and intermediate reps brought in was gravy.

  So what that they were pissed off! They would eventually get over it. There was no other telemarketing firm in the world where they could go and enjoy the type of moneymaking opportunity that he created for his Platinum Team. Just like a drug, they were all addicted, and Rinaldo made sure he fed that addiction. Every one of those luxury vehicles in the parking lot were leased to his Platinum staff by WMM. And you better believe he was getting his cut off of that. His friend owned one of the biggest corporate leasing companies in the area. And whatever Rinaldo wanted to drive, it would be delivered personally. Whatever his sales force thought or mentioned that they wanted to drive he made sure he would have it brought right over and put in their face. And all of them had a minimum of two rides. Lease payments were ranging from $800 to $2,000 a month.

  All staff was required to wear suits into work. And just like Rinaldo, they all had good taste. Taste ranging from Armani, Brioni and Joseph Abboud to La Perla and Ermenegildo Zegna, to name a few. Rinaldo had a jeweler who would bring to the office various selections of Rolexes, Cartiers, Corum, Chopard, Hublot and several other custom-made watches to wear. He had diamond cuff links, earrings, necklaces—you name it—to sell to the Platinum Team. His line of thinking was the more you had, the more you would want.

  Everyone lived in a condo or townhouse with pools or access to a pool, which they were either leasing or had a hefty mortgage attached to it. They all were living beyond their means. If WMM shut down tomorrow, and they did not have a nest egg, they would lose it all.

  Then there were drugs. His manager and twin brother, Simeon, was a crack fiend. Of his Platinum members: Jeff an alcoholic, Pete a heroin addict, Shawn a weedhead with three baby mamas and four kids, including the one on the way. Milt was also a weedhead and had a daughter attending Howard University, a son at Columbia, nieces and nephews, all of whom he was supporting. Nina had her mother, three kids back in Jersey that she took care of, and they all knew about her boyfriend Akil, who had the so-called record label that drained a lot of her cash. Then there was Supreme, the control freak in prison who kidnapped her daughter. Therefore, yes, he had them and he made it his business to make sure they had bills up the ass. He had everyone where he wanted them… dependant on him.

  Rinaldo was definitely king. He lit a cigar, threw his feet on top of his desk and blew smoke rings at the ceiling.

  “Hey, mama. How are ya doing?”

  “Oh, I’m all right. How are you?” With everything going on, Nina needed to talk to her babies. They gave her a sense of sanity.

  “I’m okay. How’s the babies?”

  “Nina, I don’t know why I gotta keep telling you, you ain’t got no more babies. Them children are grown. Daysha is eight, Jermichael is seven and Jatana is six.”

  “Mom, I know how old they are. But they are still my babies. I just called t
o hear their voices. Let me speak to my little man.”

  She heard her mother suck her teeth before going to get Jermichael.

  “Mommy!” He sounded so excited as he got on the phone.

  “Hey, baby. Are you okay? I miss you and I love you.”

  “Miss you too. I want to come to the South.”

  “I’ll be up to get you. What have you been up to?”

  “Nothing.” He was on his computer and half of his attention was on the phone while the rest was on the computer.

  “School is fine,” he sang.

  “Go get your sister because I see you are not trying to talk to me.”

  Jermichael giggled. “I’m on my computer.”

  “Give the phone to Daysha.” She was standing over him looking at the computer screen.

  “Hey, Mommy.”

  “Hey, beautiful. I love you and miss you. I called you last night. You are always hanging out. You must like church, huh?”

  “No. I don’t like going with the deacon. When can you come get me?”

  “Soon, baby.”

  “I don’t want to go to Bible study.”

  “Girl, give me that phone.” Ms. Coles snatched the phone from her. “Nina, I need a favor.”

  Oh shit. Here it comes. I wonder how much this time?

  “I need seven thousand dollars.”

  “Seven thousand?” Nina shrieked. “Mom, what the hell do you need seven thousand dollars for? I just sent you five thousand, and forty-five hundred right before that. What do you need all of this money for?”

  “I know how much you just sent me. But it is all for the Lord.”

  “The Lord? What Lord?”

  “Nina, don’t be yelling at me. It ain’t but one Lord.”

  “Yeah, but who’s collecting all of this money for the Lord?”

  “Nina, can you send me the money or not?”

  “Tell me who you are sending the money to,” Nina pushed.

  “Pastor Will Wilkins.”

  “Oh God, Mom. I saw him on TV. That guy is as fake as they come.”