Page 9 of Mr. Blackwood

I switched over to Frankie. “Frankie, I need you to deposit five grand into an account for Yousef once we clear the line. I’m about to transfer him to you, and he’ll give you the details.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwood.”

I ended the call and sat back for a few moments. I was grateful that the car service she used happened to be owned by my good friend, Kanaan Fields, of Fields Supply Chain. Yousef knew me very well; that was why I was confident that I wouldn’t be questioned.

I watched on the monitor as Camilla wrapped up her evening and straightened her office. I kept watch over her until she arrived out front. After five minutes, she pulled out her phone, and I knew that she must be checking on her car service. She paced back and forth as she fussed before she finally hung up.

She threw her hands in the air and made another call. I stood and headed to the elevators.

“Good night, Mr. Blackwood,” Frankie called out as I passed her office.

“Good night, Frankie.”

I took my private elevator down to my private bay in the garage. My driver, who also served as my bodyguard, Creed Evanston, waited at the rear of the Bentley and opened the door for me. Frankie would have informed him that I was on my way down no sooner than I passed her office.

“Creed, head around to the front before we leave. We have to make a pitstop on the way home,” I instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

He eased the car out of my bay and headed for the exit.

“There will be a young lady out front pacing back and forth. She’s wearing a lime-green fitted dress with a white belt. She’s upset because her car service has been canceled, and she doesn’t know why. You need to convince her that the building owner has sent a car service for her inconvenience.”

“Let me guess, she doesn’t know you’re the building owner?” He looked in the rearview mirror at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope.”

He smirked and eased around to the front of the building, where Camilla was still pacing back and forth.

Creed parked the car in front of the building and hopped out to walk around to her. I listened as he explained that the building owner had sent a car service to ensure that she arrived home safely.

“It’s just one of the perks of executive level management for anyone who has a lease in the building, ma’am.”

“How did you know my car service hadn’t arrived?”

“The owner and management have a contract with the car service. They informed us that they would be running late for one of their clients, and to please provide a driver for you if we had one available.”

She eyed him curiously.

“I don’t know you.”

“You can verify my identity at the front desk. Listen, I understand your hesitation, but we just don’t want our tenants using any form of public transportation at this time of the night.

“Well, the busses stopped running an hour ago, and I was about to order an Uber. It’ll just be another twenty-something minutes.”

“Ma’am, it’s a little after eleven. It’s not safe for you to be standing out here waiting downtown alone.”

Her fists clenched and unclenched, along with her jaw. After she exhaled deeply, she replied, “You have a point.”

Rodney stood a few feet away, taking a smoke break. When Camilla turned back to him to verify who Creed was, he confirmed that Creed could definitely be trusted. He told her that Creed was “good peeps,” and he would take care of her and get her home safely.

She conceded, and I prepared a rum for me and a rum and coke for her.

I had just sat back in the seat when she bent down to climb inside of the car. “What the hell?” she shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you get home safely.”

The moment she backed out, she bumped into Creed. She spun around and jabbed a finger at Creed. “I don’t know what type of games you’re playing, but I’m not riding with him. I don’t know him, and I also don’t trust him.”