Page 44 of The Fire We Make

Ace rolled up to the gate guarding the 17,000 square feet Westchester County estate he’d grown up in. After rolling down the window to show his face, the guards let him through and Ace saluted them as he passed.

He parked his Maserati up front amongst the other luxury cars belonging to his siblings. Before he got out, he took a few deep breaths to steel himself for the interrogation that was surely ahead. He’d tried to wiggle out of family dinner this week but Sunday dinners were non-negotiable in the King family and had been since Senior was a kid.

It didn’t matter what you had going on, Ella King expected everyone at her table for dinner to gather as a family.

“Everyone’s already in the dining room,” Mrs. Connie, the family’s cook and his former nanny, informed him as she greeted him at the door. Ace gave her his first smile of the day and bent down to her level to accept the hug and kiss on his cheek she gave him in return. Then, she headed back to the kitchen, no doubt to yell at the kitchen staff about something.

Voices and silverware clattering greeted Ace as he entered the dining room, seeing his parents, grandparents, and siblings already seated.

After giving kisses on the cheek to his mama, granny, and little sister, he dapped up his father, grandfather, and brothers then took his seat.

The staff soon brought out the meal of smothered chicken, rice, greens, and Mac and cheese with cornbread.

All around the table, plates were piled high and glasses were filled to the brim with sweet tea, liquor, or a combination of the two.

During a lull in the conversation, Senior cleared his throat and Ace knew immediately what was coming.

“So son… You’ve been the Boss for almost a month now. How are things?” Senior asked.

“Things are fine,” Ace answered, picking up his scotch to take a sip.

“It seems you’ve had an eventful first few weeks,” Senior pushed.

Sighing, Ace set his glass down on the table with a thud. “Ask what you really wanna ask me.”

“Do we have to talk about business at the dinner table?” June cut in. Ace’s mother, though not coming from a mafia background like the rest of the women gathered there, had taken it in stride when she found out about Senior’s lifestyle. However, she still tried to keep some semblance of normalcy where she could.

“I’m just making sure everything is copacetic,” Senior said. “I’ve been hearing things so I’m just checking in on the boy.”

Senior put on a front for June but Ace knew better. Senior wasn’t checking in on him, he was checking him. If things had gotten back to Senior, that meant Ace was losing control — and Senior was putting him on notice.

“I’ve got everything under control,” Ace said, shortly.

Unconvinced, but satisfied that his point had been made, Senior let it go and moved on to another topic. “You know, I wouldn’t have made it through my transition if it weren’t for my Juney,” he said, leaning over to place a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

June giggled like a schoolgirl and if it weren’t for the deep hue of her mahogany skin, she surely would have blushed. She turned to face Senior and brought him in for a kiss that lasted too long to be considered appropriate for a family dinner.

“Ew. Can y’all not?” Von gagged.

They pulled away laughing and Senior said, “Boy, how you think you got here?”

“I was delivered by a stork,” Von answered petulantly.

“No actually we picked you up from the fire station,” Jrue corrected as he poured himself another glass of whiskey, causing the rest of their siblings to laugh.

“I thought we found him on the side of the road?” August quipped with a fake confusion that was so believable it made them laugh harder.

“Stop bullying my baby,” June demanded while trying to suppress her own laughter.

“You know Ace, I still think you should be open to an arrangement. You’re familiar with the Washington’s youngest, Dana right?”

Snickers erupted around the table.

“Oh he’s real familiar,” Von mumbled.

Ace shot him a glare that instantly wiped the grin from his lips.

“That’s not happening mama,” Ace replied simply, unable to disguise the disgust written on his face at the insinuation.