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“It does.”
He shrugged. “Figured that.”
I frowned. “I’ll need the backup with the doorman.”
“There we go.” Anthony turned off the car and winked. “I love being helpful.”
Together, we headed out of the car and stepped onto the sidewalk, pausing as a stream of sleek cars glided by on the bustling street.
Should I bring all the presents? No. I should wait until. . .I know Zuri isn’t going to slap the shit out of me.
Nervous, I dove my hands into my pockets.
Here in this affluent area, the city’s rhythm slowed down. The usual chaos was replaced by a calmer, more refined ambiance.
This is a very expensive area. What do you do now, Zuri?
Before I went in, she worked as a Campaign Organizer for a grassroots social justice group, barely making $10 an hour. She used to struggle with paying rent at her studio apartment. Once I got wind of that, I took over all of her monthly expenses. There was no way I could let the love of my life ever worry about a bill.
I took in the building again.
But without me, you’ve moved up in these five years.
Finally, a break in the traffic came, and we crossed the street towards the gleaming condo building.
My gut twisted into anxious knots.
Fuck. What is going to happen?
We approached the entrance; the doorman caught our attention. He was a middle-aged man with a graying blond beard. “Merry Christmas, fellas.”
Anthony stepped forward. “Yes. Thanks. Merry Christmas to you.”
I got to Anthony’s side and checked out the lobby. A small Christmas tree stood next to the elevators. I spotted cameras near both elevators and by the staircase.
Decent security. You kept yourself protected, Zuri.
The doorman watched us. “How can I help you, fellas?”
Anthony pulled out two hundred dollars. “We’re looking for some information about a resident here.”
I eyed him. “Her name is Zuri Cleaver. She has a little girl named Carmen.”
Anthony tried to hand him the money. “What floor does she live on?”
The doorman didn’t raise his hand to take the money. “I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose information about our residents.”
“Of course not. That would be horrible.” Unfazed, Anthony pulled out several more bills. “Any plans for Christmas this year?”
“None that concern you.” The doorman glanced at the money, then back at Anthony, his expression unchanging. “Also, I’m afraid no amount of money will work here.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Does violence work?”
The doorman stepped back. “What?”
“That was a joke.” Anthony cleared his throat. “What my friend meant to say was, what do you want this Christmas? I have a certain set of skills—the sort that help me get pretty much anything in this world to arrive right at your doorstep. A car. A sexy lady. What do you need?”
The doorman kept his gaze on me.
I shrugged. “Or I can take you off to a place where no one can hear you scream and beat the shit out of you, until you give me the information and more.”
The doorman edged further back. “I’m about to call the police.”
I quirked my brows. “You can do that with a broken hand?”
Sighing, Anthony tucked the money back in his pocket. “Come on, buddy. My friend is homicidal. Help me, help you, help us.”
The doorman’s bottom lip quivered. “Well. . .”
Anthony and I leaned forward.
The doorman lowered his voice. “I do know who you are talking about.”
I blinked. “Good. What floor is she on?”
The doorman looked at Anthony. “I’m going to need something.”
He held his hands out. “Just tell me. I’ve got you. Anything.”
“If you could get me a Foxie Cherry doll, I’ll tell you anything you need to know.”
“Fuck.” Anthony scowled. “Come on, man. How about a car? Or a flight to somewhere nice?”
“I’ve fallen behind on my child support payments. My ex-wife has really been giving it to me this year. A Foxie Cherry doll might solve it all.”
Anthony let out an exasperated breath. “The doll is iffy. I can get four, but I don’t know about five.”
“What do you need four dolls for?” The doorman shook his head. “Give me one of those.”
“Eh.” Anthony frowned. “I need all three, and he needs one. So work with us.”
“Foxie Cherry doll or no deal.”
I showed him my fists. “Well, we do have other options—”
“Go ahead.” The doorman shrugged. “Beat me up. Maybe, it’ll get some sympathy from my ex.”
Anthony held up his hand. “How about this? I can get you a Game X—full console and special edition controllers.”
“Yeah?” The doorman tilted his head to the side. “No bullshit?”
“None at all. I’ll have my man bring it over within the hour, but we need the information now.” Anthony pulled out his phone, dialed some numbers, and stepped into the side to talk into the phone.
A bright expression covered the doorman’s face as he looked at me. “Can he really get it?”
“He can.” I stepped in closer. “Is Zuri here?”
