-Karl's POV-

I heard he was up around Washington Heights, or at least that's what this guy who used to work for some cab company over there told me.

Apparently, this guys worked the boss as he did, before they sold the company to pay for for their daughter's college tuition.

I had to give them credit- bold move but right right move. Education comes first. It hurt to know he wasn't following the same path this daughter was. I had it all planned out. He just had to skip out, leave me, and now that I knew where he was, damn he was going to pay.

"Are you sure you want to go all the way over there just because he might be in Washington Heights?" A college asked me skeptically, as if it was his business at all, picking at his salad.

I responded with a smile so fake it beat plastic at its own game. "Are you sure you want to keep asking me about this? This douche just up and leaves and never gets his comeuppance? I am going to be his comeuppance."

The guy shrugged, "Man, I'm telling you, that place is a total slum from what I've heard. Crawling with immigrants and hence full of crime. You are going there?"

I had heard the same things, but I wasn't about to admit that. "I didn't raise him to live among such disgusting company."

"Then he's probably not there. Why are you-"

"Because it's my only lead!" I growled impatiently. "I have to teach him what's right and wrong. Living with such poor folk is wrong. We are above those poor folk." I sneered at the idea of uneducated idiots trying to boss around him. He better now have bowed down to them.

"Just saying, jeez," The college replied, holding his hands up defensively at my tone and abrupt reply. "A black man like you gets as successful as you and then you head for the hood? People are just going to figure you got business there, issues there, dealings there, you know? No black guy could possibly be a normal guy- oh but what about him?- nah, he's leaving for the hood tomorrow- oh, I see."

I rolled my eyes with obvious contempt as I waited out his play acting before inquiring harshly, "Why is this your business? All I asked you to lunch for is to cover me while I miss a couple days of work. Goddamn."

I signalled for the check as I wrapped the rest of my club sandwich in a napkin and tossed the plastic topped toothpick into the tray.

My college ran his fingers through his short blonde hair and sighed, clearly exasperated with our entire conversation. So was I.

"Fine, I'll do that. And don't take too long, I don't know how many days I can cover." He fixed his tie as if he would be able to convince them I wasn't coding their software for a good reason if he had a straighter tie.

"You better cover as long I'm gone. That's what friends do. You know my position pays too much for me to lose a day of work." Which basically meant I got paint so much a day would be quite a los. Not that I was some poor bastard who needed money. Ask my butler if I need money. Or my maid. Or my cook.

"You let me know if you find okay?" He probably believed me when I said friend. Trying to act like he liked me. I knew he didn't like me, we were just colleges. Polite idiot.

"Why would I do that?" The soft ringing of the bell marked the end of the conversation as I exited the posh sandwich shop and stepped into my waiting car, the chauffeur driving me home as I planned my short trip.

Washington Heights, here I come.