The Art of the Hustle 2 (Complete)

Chapter Thirty-Five

It was early Sunday morning when Deon left his apartment. It was his turn to look after Chanel. Seeing as he didn't own a car, he walked ten minutes to where his ex was staying.

It was cold and the sun had yet to reach the quiet suburban streets of the West End, where he lived. The neighbourhood was calm and peaceful, making for a nice walk. He used the time to think about his life. He wasn't much of a planner, opting instead to fly by the seat of his pants. He hadn't thought much further beyond one day at a time. That Sunday, he planned to pick up Chanel and take her to a park near the beach.

Deon arrived at his ex's apartment and she buzzed him in. He didn't really want to stay and chat with her so he took Chanel by the hand and together they waited by the elevator. Over his shoulder was a large bag that contained some snacks, books, toys, and other supplies for Chanel.

"Be safe," his ex said, still waiting by the door of her apartment. Deon gave a nod and Chanel waved bye to her mommy.

Exiting the building, it was still a little cold out so Deon thought perhaps they could go to the beach later. He texted Trevor to ask what he was doing. Trevor responded immediately and said that he was busy.

With Trevor out all day, Deon came up with a bright idea.

"Chanel sweetie. We can go to the beach later when it gets warmer, okay?"

"Okay. Where are we going then?"

"To my friend Trevor's place. He's really rich and has an amazing view of the city. How does that sound?"

Chanel nodded. Walking hand in hand, they didn't have to go far to reach Trevor's marina-side penthouse. Deon still had the key so he let himself in.

When they got up to the apartment, Deon called out Trevor's name, but there was no answer. Deon set down the backpack and helped Chanel with her shoes. Together they walked over to a large window and stared out at the magnificent view.

"Look at this, Chanel," Deon said, hoisting his daughter up.

Deon and Chanel spent most of the day at Trevor's place. They played games, watched some cartoons, and had lunch. During Chanel's nap, Deon worked on his studies. He was showing his daughter a luxurious lifestyle that he wasn't able to provide for her.

When Trevor finally came home, Deon wasn't there. It wasn't until the next day when they spoke.

Taking the elevator down to the parking garage, Trevor saw his lineup of cars, all except for one. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the empty space. His pearl white Bentley was missing. He looked around as if he expected it to be in another parking stall. After losing Ashley, the idea of losing a material possession seemed so trivial. Instead of panicking, he opened an app on his phone and located his car. It was in Richmond.

"What the heck is my car doing in Richmond?" he thought. He immediately called Deon, but there was no answer.

Taking the G 65 AMG Mercedes, Trevor left his private parking garage in his building and drove along Pacific. He dealt with the downtown traffic by playing some music loudly. Avoiding Robson Street not only was a way to save time, but also to stay out of the spotlight. As much as he loved flashy cars, he didn't always love the attention they brought.

The system thumped as he made his way into the narrow streets of the West End where Deon lived. He pulled up curbside near Deon's building and walked up to the front door of his building. He tried Deon again on his cell, this time he picked up.

"What's up?" Deon said.

"You tell me. What's my car doing in Richmond?"

"Your car is in Richmond?" Deon asked, playing dumb. "I'm not sure what you're talking about?"