“If an air mask drops in front of you anytime during this flight, Lisa has my permission to strangle you with it. Now come on, let’s get to work.”
Remi sat at the table with her partners and handed out parts of the contract Mano had sent down with the staff. “Well, boys, vacation’s over. Are we ready to go on Monday?”
“Yes, now that our hand’s on the light switch, the cockroaches are starting to get nervous. Did you know the mob is taking over at Gemini?” Dwayne asked.
“Really, now, boys, it’s not just the mob. It’s Papi’s version of the mob.” The three laughed.
Ramon had always been a powerful force, but all three of them sitting at the table loved and admired him. They freely gave him their loyalty, and not because of what they owed him.
Remi exchanged her sunglasses for reading glasses, preparing to dissect the contract, but her thoughts turned to her family’s history and what it had taken to get where they were today.
*
The Jatibon family had always had money until Castro had come down from the Sierra Madres and destroyed generations of work and wealth in one short week. Arriving in the United States with nothing but the clothes on his back, his wife Marianna, and six-year-old twins Remi and Mano, Ramon set out to rebuild his empire for his children.
He settled in New Orleans and quickly learned that the city loved vices. The top three on the list were gambling, drinking, and women, but not always in that order.
With the backing and friendship of Dalton Casey and Vincent Carlotti, Ramon started with a small club, offering all three to upper-crust patrons who quickly helped to fund expansion. The Pescador clubs, named for his family’s plantation home in Cuba, offered complimentary Cuban rum and Russian vodka, which were impossible to get at the time because of the embargo. A patron could gamble with a fine Cuban cigar in one hand and a beautiful woman on his arm, comfortable that the police wouldn’t interrupt his fun. Dalton’s connections made sure of that.
For a price, the women would do anything a customer desired for the evening, but Ramon didn’t make his living off the ladies. He gave them a place to work and made the real money on the gaming tables, not from the lay afterward. The girls soothed the pain of losing, guaranteeing the gentlemen, and women, would be back.
Ramon’s business thrived, and he now had clubs in New Orleans and along the Gulf Coast into Texas. With guidance from his children he had diversified over the years and now owned a multitude of legitimate businesses, including fifty-one percent of Gemini Studio.
He had brought his children into the business early, educating them as to where the luxuries in their lives came from. It brought him great pleasure when people told him how much like him they were, and not just in their looks. Both tall with midnight black curly hair, olive skin, broad shoulders, and chiseled features, Remi and Mano were too good-looking for their own good at times. But their father pushed them relentlessly, not wanting them to lose the fire that had built the Jatibon empire.
Their mother, Marianna, had taught them manners and style. Ramon had taught them leadership, strength, and killer instincts. Both Remi and Mano had inherited one green eye from Marianna and one blue from Ramon, though they were opposite. So when Mano stood at Remi’s right, the two middle eyes were the ice blue of Ramon’s.
While Ramon loved his children equally, his daughter was most like him. His son Ramon was very like his mother in most things. Remi, though, would rip an enemy’s heart out and let him watch it stop beating in her hand. Ramon knew that Remi would expand and surpass what he’d built, and she would never leave her family behind. His first-born, though by only twenty-five minutes, Remi carried the responsibility of not only the family business but also insuring that her brother Ramon and his family never came to harm.
Ramon also realized that while Remi would probably never give him grandchildren, she would break even his record in bedding women. He had some difficulty with her lifestyle, considering his Catholic upbringing, but he had decided it was just one more thing that made his daughter unique.
On the streets and in the world Ramon controlled, his children were known as Snake Eyes. When the two showed up first without warning, as in the game of craps, their opponent knew lady luck had taken a holiday. To the feds that constantly hounded Ramon, Snake Eyes was a myth to scare the weak, but to him they were the heads of his businesses and made them thrive. They fought good-naturedly with one another, but needed each other for balance.
They ran different sections of the family business but shared the major decisions with him. Only Ramon was privy to some jobs they had done, and he would carry his knowledge of them to his grave. He was sure that both his children commanded respect, not only because of their last name, but because of their hard work.
*
Remi let her reading glasses slide down her nose and stared out the window. Thinking of her parents always made her smile because each visit began with the same conversation. Her mother wanted to know if she had met a nice girl to settle down with, and her father told her to live the carefree life as long as she could.
Ramon Jr., or Mano, as everyone knew him, had acquiesced and given their mother what she had always wanted—grandchildren. Two more Jatibons with black curly hair running around Marianna’s house bringing children’s laughter back into the big place.
The buzzing in the office brought Remi out of her musings, and she rose to answer Doug’s call. “Just wanted to let you know your brother took care of everything, including accommodations, if they’re going to the reception tonight.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass the information along.”
Walking toward the large living area of the jet, Remi noticed the girls were pumping Dallas for gossip. “I hate to break up this obviously important meeting, but I wanted to inform you, Ms. Montgomery, the studio will have a car waiting and hotel arrangements have been made,” Remi said, looking only at Dallas.
“It’s about time you made it back here.” Bob said. “Do all Jatibon employees slack this much?”
“I’m sorry, did you need something, Dick?” Remi responded with an even tone.
“The name is Mr. Bennett, and yes, a beer would be great.”
“Coming right up, Dick. I’ll see what’s available on board.” Remi loitered nearby for a minute so she could overhear Bob and Dallas’s conversation.
“Bob,” Dallas said in a heated whisper.
“Relax. You have to show these types of people that they need to take their interests elsewhere.”
