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.”
Dallas smiled to the others as if in apology for Bob’s behavior, then her eyes turned to Remi.
Remi headed into the galley before she gave in to the overwhelming feeling of wanting to strangle Bob. She came back quickly with a bottle of beer in one hand and a pitcher of Mojitos in the other.
“Here you go, Dick. In my bartending days I took great pride in my ability to match a beer to a person’s personality, so drink up.” Remi handed him the bottle, then started refilling the ladies’ drinks.
“Again, shit for brains, the name’s Bennett, not Dick. And what in the hell does a Dos XX have to do with my personality?” Bob held up the bottle she’d handed him.
“Well, the way I look at it, you’re just a strike three waiting to happen.” Molly and Lisa started laughing. “Enjoy your drinks. We should be landing in about forty-five minutes.”
Remi left the pitcher and walked toward the private room at the rear of the plane to change.
“Bob Bennett, you fucking idiot, and fuck you!” Bob screamed to the retreating back.
He turned his attention to Molly and Lisa, who were still laughing. Using his best smile, he decided to do a bit of fishing, since Dallas was in contract negotiations for her sequel and any information on the new management couldn’t hurt.
“Do you ladies know Remington Jatibon?” he asked in as smooth a voice as he could conjure up.
Lisa looked at Molly and smiled before opening her mouth. “Why yes, we do. What would you like to know?”
Bob thought again just how stupid women could be. At times they made it too easy. “What’s he like?”
The two friends asked in unison, “He?”
“Is that a hard question or would you like for me to go a little slower? There isn’t a lot of information out there about him, just a lot of gossip around the studio, but no pictures to back up the talk.”
“Depends on who you ask,” Lisa muttered. “There are so many facets to Remi it’s hard to know where to begin.”
Bob looked at them, wondering if they’d downed one drink too many.
“Well, what are his plans for the studio?” Bob started with what he assumed was an easy question.
Molly spoke up next. “Remi plans to turn the studio into a more lucrative venture by putting out a better product. For the past four years only about half of the films have made a substantial profit, while cost overruns bleed the winners like Dallas and Jenny’s picture. Then I imagine it’ll be back to the family business. That’s where Remi’s true heart lies.”
“Is he the lady’s man everyone says he is, or is he a legend in his own mind?” As he waited for the answer, Bob considered which outfit Dallas should wear that evening. The laughing women brought him back to the conversation, making him think again they were intoxicated.
Wiping tears from her eyes Lisa turned to Molly and asked, “If I gave him a hundred bucks, could he buy a clue?”
Dallas leaned forward, obviously wanting to hear the answer to his question.