a plain gray button-up,
comfortable denims—fitted, not baggy—and a pair of gray Air Jordans. I wasn’t
dressed like a lowdown thug. I was casual.
“I’m tryna get my
entertainment company off the ground,” I answered, leaving my underworld
dealings out.
“That’s fine boo. But
how are you bringing income in?”
“A few investments.”
“Not to be in your
business, baby, but I know you playin’ wit’ a nice amount of money. I can tell,
but I know it’s not legitimate.”
“And how do you know
that?” I countered.
“I checked on you.” She
smiled. “And I like you. I can help you get your entertainment company off the
ground. And I can help you clean some of that money up.”
“Is that right?” I was
all ears.
“That’s right, baby.”
She exposed that beautiful smile again. “I’m tryna open another beauty salon
next year. I’m lookin’ at locations right now. I would love to bring you
aboard.”
“Sounds interesting and
lucrative.”
“I’m interesting and
lucrative,” she said back.
Over the course of the
dinner, I found Lisa really intriguing. She was independent, sexy, educated,
and a good conversationalist. Making some legitimate moves only made sense. The
short time I spent with her made me realize we had chemistry. It reminded me of
the chemistry me and Maria had. I had to see where it led me.
***
I told Lisa I would call her soon. I was
on my way to the club. I needed to be around some fresh energy. It was going on
eleven-thirty and I was still in my truck with the keyed-in message on it. I
thought about pulling out my old school I barely drove. But I was cool.
My hotline went off as
I was pulling up to the club.
“Yeah,” I said after I
turned my music down.
“Touchdown, bro,” Army Tank
said. He was letting me know they got the niggas that shot Ace.
“Everything
everything?” I asked.
“You too ugly, cuzz,
you know how we do,” he said.
“Ok, lil’ bro. I’ma hit
you first thing.”
I felt good after that
call. Them suckas were eradicated, so that’s one problem solved.
***
“Remy on the rocks,” I
told the sexy bartender.
“Ok, boo,” she replied
with a smile.
The club was packed. I
didn’t notice any threats in the building so I was straight. It was a few
niggas in the building that I knew was going to push if shit got fonky.
“So yo bitches is
keying yo shit up, Spade?” a voice asked from behind me. I turned around and it
was Casey. She looked good.
“I’ma handle that. Who
you here wit’?”
“My cousins. You?”
“Solo.”
“You comin’ over
tonight?” She put her hand on her hip.
“I’ll see,” I said.
“Let me know.” She
sashayed off.
I was enjoying myself,
talking to a few females that caught my eye, just chilling. Then I saw Selena
from a distance, walking my way. She was looking sexy as hell in a black mesh
dress, the neckline exposed to reveal a black brassiere and a gold-glittered
chest. She strutted over with leggings underneath—can’t go wrong with leggings,
especially with taut thighs like hers—topped off with a pair of open-toe heels.
But even more than how
she was dressed, I knew she “went” too. I thought about that ménage-a-morning
with Maria.
“Hi, Spade,” she said.
“How you doin’, baby?”
I looked her up and down.
“Just enjoying the
night.”
“You want a drink?” I
asked.
“Sure,” she said. She
got a little closer to me and I smelled Chanel perfume.
“Bartender.” I put my
hand up to get her attention. “One shot of Patron.”
“Did I ask for Patron?”
she joked, close enough to my face to kiss me.
“I offered,” I said to
her, putting the money on the bar. I handed her the drink and we spent the next
few minutes flirting and touching on each other. Casey walked by rolling her
eyes, but she kept it moving.
“Let’s go outside and
talk.” Selena grabbed my hand and led me out of the club.
We went to my truck
that was parked right next to the
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