I shrug. “Forgot,” I say. “I just met the guy, so nothing is even in the planning stages yet. This is just a courtesy. I'll fill you in if it starts getting more concrete.”
Without waiting for a reply, I walk over to the parking lot just as Trujillo is getting out of the SUV. His man – the man who'd pulled the trigger that night – looks me up and down, a predatory grin touching the corners of his mouth. And I can tell he'd like nothing more than to put a bullet in my head right then and there.
“Mr. Trujillo,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice from shaking. “This is an unexpected visit.”
He nods and looks around, surveying the construction site, not speaking for a long moment. And the longer the silence goes on, the more nervous I get. The calm clarity I'd had before is gone. Like a puff of smoke on the wind, it's fucking gone and I'm back to the same jittery, nervous as fuck wreck I've been the last couple of weeks.
“Walk with me,” Trujillo finally says.
I cast a nervous glance at Trujillo's driver and nod. The big man stays with the car as I walk across the site with Trujillo. His dark suit is pristine, and I'm afraid he's going to get mud on his overcoat – more worried that he'll blame me for it and then shoot me, really.
He stops on a small bluff that overlooks the construction site and seems to be taking it all in. Like he's trying to understand how it works or something. I stand beside him in silence, my gut churning, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The last thing I want to do is start babbling nervously out of a need to fill the ominous silence between us.
“Big project,” he finally says.
I nod. “Very big project,” I reply. “Very profitable. Once I get this done, I should be able to give you a big chunk of what I owe you.”
“But, not all of it,” he says, a statement, not a question.
I clear my throat and shake my head. “No, not all of it. Unfortunately,” I say. “But, I've got some more projects lined up behind this one and –”
“Family is important,” Trujillo says. “Maybe, the most important thing in life. Wouldn't you agree?”
I'm so taken aback by the abrupt change in the direction of the conversation, I nearly give myself whiplash trying to keep up with it. I stare at him blankly for a moment, not sure of what to say. Trujillo turns to me, an amicable expression on his face.
“All of this,” he says, gesturing to the construction site, “is to make money, of course. But more importantly, I feel that you are doing this, building this company, to leave as a legacy to your children. Would I be wrong in that assumption?”
I shake my head slowly. “No, not at all,” I say. “My son, Ian, I've been grooming him to take over for me when I retire.”
Trujillo nods knowingly. “And you do this because you are leaving him a legacy,” he says. “Because family – our children, and what we leave behind for them – are the most important thing in life.”
I'm still not sure where he's going, and frankly, I’m starting to get creeped out by his almost nostalgic tone. But, so long as he's not having his man wave a gun in my face, I'm happy to agree with him.
“Yeah, sure,” I say. “Exactly. Legacy. Family and all that.”
Truth be told, I haven't given much of a thought to legacy at all. I built this company from the ground up for one simple reason – to make a pile of money. My plan all along has been to make a ton of cash, retire early, and live the good life. Handing off the baton to my son when I'm ready to retire just seems like the normal, natural thing to do. But hey, if Trujillo wants to wax nostalgic about it, more power to him, I guess.
“I've been thinking a lot about family and legacy lately,” Trujillo says. “And about what I'm leaving behind for my own son.”
Oh, you mean aside from a blood-soaked, murderous drug empire? It's a thought I keep to myself though. I just nod thoughtfully as I wait for him to get to his point – and I'm sure he's trying to make a point here somewhere. About something. I just don't know what.
“I didn't know you had a son,” I say lamely, because it's the only thing I can think of to say.
Trujillo nods. “Armando,” he says. “He's a good boy. Smart. Handsome.”
If the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, then I'm not sure somebody who is as violent and bloodthirsty as I imagine Trujillo's kid has to be, should be described as a “good boy,” but okay. I'm not going to argue the point with him. Mostly, because it would likely earn me a bullet in the head.
“I'm sure he is,” I say evenly.
“I want him to give me many grandbabies,” he says. “Grandsons who can take over the family business when he is gone, just as I'm leaving it to Armando.”
The family business. How quaint. The way he talks, almost fondly, he makes it sound like he'll be passing on a hand-crafted soap business or something equally as innocuous. The way he talks, you wouldn't think the family business is one that traffics guns, drugs, women, and death.
I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair. The longer this chat goes on, with Trujillo acting like we're long-time friends having a little kvetch over coffee or something, the more uncomfortable I'm growing. I couldn't give a shit less about his legacy or his goddamn grandbabies.
“Listen,” I say, “I have a lot of work –”
“You're probably wondering what I'm doing here,” he cuts me off.
I sigh. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
Trujillo turns to me, his expression serious. “I have a proposition for you.”
A chill slithers its way down my spine as I look at him. Getting into bed with Trujillo was a mistake in the first place. I didn't know what I was signing up for at the time, but there's nothing I can do about it now. But, getting deeper into bed with him now seems like utter madness to me.
And yet, I have no choice but to hear him out. Hear him out and pretend to give his proposal serious consideration. This is what I get for making a deal with the devil in the first place.
“What kind of a proposition?” I ask.
Trujillo flashes me a dangerous smile, knowing the hook is set. “I'm proud of the empire I'm building,” he says. “An empire you're playing a very big part in.”
I groan inwardly. If I knew what sort of role I'd be playing in building this man's empire, I would have burned my company to the ground way back when.
“But, an empire needs heirs to continue its forward progress, right?” he asks. “Just as your company needs your son to continue forward.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say and glance at my watch. “Listen, I don't mean to rush you, but –”
“The rate of repayment on your loan is slow. Too slow,” he says. “I'm a patient man, but even my patience has its limits, Michael.”
“I understand, Mr. Trujillo, I just need –”
“I had expected to be earning more by laundering money through your various projects by now.”
“I did too, but with the slowdown in –”
Trujillo spoke over me, cutting me off like I'm not even speaking. So, I just close my mouth and let him continue speaking, since he obviously doesn't want to hear from me.
“But, being a forward thinking and benevolent man at heart, I've found a solution to both of our dilemmas,” he says.
Trujillo looks at me as if he's expecting me to answer, to ask the obvious follow up question. Christ, I hate these stupid games. I hate even more when I'm forced to play them because of the barrel he has me over.
“And what is the solution, Mr. Trujillo?”
“My son needs a wife,” he says. “And you have a single daughter, yes?”
The blood in my veins turns instantly into ice. I've never spoken to him about my family, outside of my son, and I know it shouldn't surprise me that he knows about my daughter, but it does. It catches me completely off guard and it feels like he just delivered a sucker punch to my gut. Like he knocked the wind out of me, and knowing now where he's going with this, I feel a greasy wave of nausea rising in my throat.
“Michael?”
I look up and see that he's staring at me, clearly expecting me to answer him. Which seems pretty stupid to me, since he already knows the answer.