“Keep it up, Olivia, and I will stomp a mudhole in your ass, ya feel me? Keep talkin’ reckless.”
“Ain’t nobody talking—”
“Shut the fuck up!” André roared. “I don’t want to hear your annoying fuckin’ voice for the rest of the morning. And fix a nigga some breakfast!”
André was more than ready to put the smack down. If Olivia kept giving him attitude, he was sure she’d live to regret it.
André didn’t allow Olivia out of his sight until it was time for them both to leave for the bank. He’d shut off his cell phone because he didn’t want any disturbances. In his mind there wasn’t anything more important than the business at hand.
Olivia and André decided to forgo hiring security because if no one knew about the money then they felt they couldn’t be at risk. And André knew better than to put his goons down with what was going on. He knew he’d end up with two bullets in the back of his head shortly after the withdrawal. No, the fewer the people knew about the money, the better.
On the way to the bank, all Olivia thought about was the pink cotton-candy-colored custom Range Rover with the snow-white buttery leather seats she would order first thing tomorrow from the dealer. She wanted to hear the engine purr like a cat while stunting on 125th. Olivia was filled with all kinds of joy, just salivating at her thoughts. She figured herself the black Barbie of the hood, and the pink Range Rover would paint the perfect picture.
To both their amazement, pulling out all that money went off without complication. Raymond asked that André pull their vehicle around to a private side entrance, and once Olivia signed all the necessary withdrawal information, several bank employees, along with the bank’s security guard, loaded up the back of André’s truck with nearly one million dollars.
André couldn’t explain the exhilaration he felt. “It’s on now!” he exclaimed once he got behind the wheel. Slowly he peeled out, heading north back to Harlem.
“My heart is beating like crazy!” Olivia placed her hand over her chest for dramatic effect. “I can’t believe that shit was that easy.”
André didn’t comment. He was too busy in his own thoughts. He was going to invest about two hundred thousand back into cocaine, flip that, and make a profit. Stash about six hundred grand for rainy days, and with the rest, get some new bling. He’d spend at least a hundred grand at the Diamond District, buy some new gear, and go on vacation.
“You heard what I said?” Olivia asked.
“Nah, I ain’t hear you.”
“I said I want to go to the Land Rover dealer to order me a custom Range Rover in pink.” Olivia clapped her hands together and began to giggle like a schoolchild.
André wasn’t really feeling her after last night, and having the money in his possession, his disgust toward her had increased tenfold. He nodded his head like he was in agreement, but he wasn’t.
When they pulled up in front of their house, André kept the engine idle.
“What? You not coming in?”
“Nah, I’m gonna go and put this paper up.”
“Up where?” Olivia’s eyes popped open in utter shock. “You not leaving with all this paper by yourself!”
“Yo, who the fuck you think you talkin’ to? I ain’t one of your little girlfriends! You keep pushing a nigga buttons and see what the fuck I do to you.”
“Ain’t nobody pushing your buttons.” Olivia brought her tone down a notch. “But where are you taking all this money? Why can’t you bring it upstairs to the safe?”
“You sound stupid,” André replied. “That safe ain’t built to hold this kind of paper. Besides, with this type of money, we’d be sitting ducks for all the stickup kids.”
Olivia knew he was trying to play her. Since when a safe ain’t built to hold money? All the kilos of cocaine he stored in that safe and revolving stacks of paper throughout the week. Not to mention, no one knew where they lived, so how would they get stuck up? But she didn’t say anything slick to upset him.
“But you at least gonna let me know where you’re putting all of it and also give me complete access, right?”
“Oh, no doubt. I’m storing it in my mother’s basement. There’s a large safe in there that’s empty, with the same security code as the safe upstairs. So whenever you need anything, just go there.”
Olivia thought for a second. She did have complete access to his mother’s crib, but she wasn’t sure she could trust his words.
“So why can’t I go with you over there to unload it? You’re gonna need help with all these bags.”
“Nah, from there I gotta bounce to the Bronx to meet Hector and pick up some work. You know I don’t want you around all that. Here.” André got out the driver’s seat and slid into the back. He opened up one of the bags and pulled out a few stacks, at least twenty grand, and handed it to her. “Go shopping or something and pick you up a few nice things.”
Olivia smiled. “Thanks!” As soon as the words fell out, she wondered briefly, Why am I thanking him?
***
André left, but he wasn’t headed to his mom’s crib. He was headed straight to South Orange, New Jersey, where Anita, his baby momma, lived.
No one knew about Anita, nor that he had a one-year-old son. He didn’t even allow Anita to put his name on the birth certificate. The only telephone number she had on him was under a distant cousin’s account, which he kept off at all times and hidden in a small stash box in his custom Yukon jeep.
André really didn’t have any intentions of making Anita his girl. She wasn’t his type. He was in Brooklyn fucking around with this shorty when he drove on to Kings Highway to get a hand detail-wash on his truck. On his way there, he saw a sign hand car wash held up by a crew of hot chicks all dressed in skimpy outfits and couldn’t resist. He drove into the low-budget car wash instead of going to Kings Highway and began flirting with the young girls.
Watching them lather up his truck in their daisy dukes was turning him on, with their white T-shirts soaking wet and sudsy bubbles falling off their curves. It was all good, until they all pushed up too hard. All except one. She was intent on doing her job and not dressed half as provocatively as her peers.
Intrigued, he approached the shorty and found out that they all were foster kids, and their foster father owned the business. She was soft-spoken and hardly made eye contact with him. She didn’t know her biological family and had been shuffled around all her life. Now she aspired to become a nurse.
André began taking out the plain Jane and, right before he got bored with her, found out she was a virgin. He had to have her. The first time they fucked, it was like pulling teeth, she was so tense. But her tight, wet pussy was addictive.
André began picking her up on the regular and soon found himself wanting to spoil her. But she was different. She wasn’t materialistic like Honey or Olivia or the other broads he dated. She could care less about a Christian Louboutin or Gucci boots. She was into her books and wanted to make something of herself.
When André found out she was pregnant, he took her out of her foster parent’s home and bought her a modest house in Jersey, far away from everyone. Anita cooked like she was Betty Crooker, kept a clean house, and took great care of their son. But what he loved most about her was, she gave him his freedom, never questioning where he was, or who he was spending his time with. He told her that he was in sales and had to travel, and apparently she believed that. He paid all the bills, her nursing tuition, and all their son’s expenses, which was more than anyone had ever done for her in her life. For that, she remained loyal.
***
It was still early when André pulled into their two-car garage. The tree-lined block with white siding homes and PVC fences was quaint. Anita was no doubt in school, and their son was at the babysitter. André took his time unloading his truck and loading up his safe in the ba
sement. He had a room that was kept locked and which had a water-and fireproof safe, a room he called his “man cave.”
When he was done, he fixed a sandwich, peered throughout the house, left a few thousand on the dresser, and peeled back out. He couldn’t stay, knowing that if he was missing too long, on the heels of taking the money, then Olivia would become suspicious. He didn’t know how he would handle Olivia, once she found out that the money wasn’t at his mother’s, but at the moment, he really didn’t give a fuck.
Chapter 21
The twenty thousand dollars of free money was burning a hole in Olivia’s pocket. No soon than André drove off, she jumped in her Maserati and called April.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m at work,” April whispered. “Why?”
“You want to go shopping with me?”
April paused and then said, “Not really. All my credit cards are maxed out, and if I go, then I’ll dig myself into more debt.”
“What about Street? That nigga got paper. He should be taking care of you.” Olivia already knew the 4-1-1 on Street. She knew he was no longer checking for April and was spending his dough on some new chick.
“I don’t know what’s up with him,” April said honestly.
“What that mean?” Olivia said, pushing April to admit the obvious.
“He ain’t returning my calls . . .” April’s voice trailed off. Though embarrassed, she knew she had to face reality.
“Well, fuck him! Let’s go shopping and buy some knew gear so that when he sees you, you’re looking fly.” Olivia said. “You know Chanel got its new line out, and it’s to die for.”
“Olivia, I can’t. I just said I’m broke.”
April was trying not to resent Olivia and her great life. She had a man who’d married her, which April and most others never thought would happen. And also André was a great catch. Half of Harlem was slinging their pussy his way, and yet he was taking very good care of Olivia.
“I’m trying to get my shit together. I’ve been working overtime, whenever they let me, to pay my bills, and then I’m going to start saving. Maybe open up my own business. I’ve been thinking about opening up a hair salon.”
“A hair salon?” That didn’t sit too well with Olivia. She didn’t want anyone of her friends copying her moves. “But you don’t know how to do hair.”
“Neither do you.”
“But at least I’m bilingual, so the Dominican women don’t mind working for me!” Olivia couldn’t hide her annoyance. “They’d never work for an all-black chick.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” April no longer wanted to discuss her future with Olivia. “Look, Olivia, I’m at work. My supervisor is looking at me crazy. I have to go.”
“Oh, OK, but real quick—If you come with me shopping, I’ll pick you up from work and buy you a few things.”
That piqued April’s interest. Was cheapskate Olivia going to take her shopping? Why? “Seriously?”
“As VD.”
“Olivia, thank you! I love you!” April couldn’t contain her smile. “You know where I am. I get off at four.”
***
The first stop in Bloomingdale’s on 59th Street was the pocketbook section. Olivia spotted a red leather and crocodile Louis Vuitton bag with a four-thousand-dollar ticket.
“I have to have that,” she exclaimed. “April, what do you think about this?” Olivia placed the bag over her shoulder and pranced around the saleswoman, smiling brightly. “Is this me or what?”
April studied the uniquely crafted bag and wished she could afford one. “You already know what’s up,” she replied. “See, this is why I gotta stay out these stores. Too much hot shit.”
Olivia managed to purchase three high-end pocketbooks totaling eleven thousand dollars before heading upstairs to the Chanel section. April’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when Olivia pulled out so much cash. Even the saleswoman was uncomfortable handling so much currency.
In the exclusive and quiet Chanel section, Olivia began pulling garments for herself as April just watched. She took a seat and watched as Olivia modeled several outfits for her. April wondered when Olivia was going to tell her she could pick out something or some things.
Finally, when Olivia was about to approach the cash register, April said, “Oh, you ready to leave?”
“Well, I gotta pay for this first.” Olivia gestured toward the saleswoman. “I can’t just walk outta here, right?”
The saleswoman joined in on the fun. “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea, not unless you want to get detained.”
April looked at the two and wanted to slap both their faces. “Well, I was asking because you said you were taking me shopping. That’s the only reason why I came.”
Olivia stopped midway through counting out over nine thousand dollars for her purchase. “You see me up in here buying all this stuff and now you gonna say you want something, after we’ve been in here all this time?”
“Excuse me?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I only got”—She counted out her last hundred dollars—“a little over a buck. And I know you can’t get shit up here for that.”
The saleswoman thought fast. If she could get that commission off the hundred dollars, why not? “Well, we do have some really cute headbands for just under a hundred dollars.”
April couldn’t believe her ears. “What do you mean, I didn’t say anything? You asked me to come and said you were taking me shopping. You think I was standing here for my health?”
“I thought you were standing here as my friend. I didn’t know I had to buy your friendship.” Olivia tried to shove five twenties at April.
“Nah, that’s all right. My bad.” April’s pride wouldn’t allow her to take the measly hundred dollars. Besides, there wasn’t much she could buy with it anyways. “I don’t know why I even thought you were serious.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
April shook her head. “You just sat in my face and spent almost twenty thousand dollars, and you’re gonna try and play me and throw me a hundred?”
“Wait, hold up. This here my muthafuckin’ money. I offered to do you a solid ’cause that nigga was doing you dirty. But you came up in here acting like I had to beg you to pick up something. You sat here watching me for hours and didn’t say shit. Now you want me to feel guilty because I spent my money?”
“Olivia, please. You can try to turn this around like it’s my fault, but we both know that you’re a cheap bitch.”
“And you’re a broke bitch! A dumb-ass, broke bitch!”
“I’ll take that.” April nodded. “But anybody can be in my shoes—including you. You have it all right now, but don’t get too comfortable, because what goes up must come down. You’re the same chick who cried on my shoulders when André was dissing you. The same way he stepped out on his first wife is the same way he’ll step out on you.”
“At least I got a man.”
“For now. My mother always said, ‘The same way you get him is the same way you’ll lose him.’”
“Really?” Olivia realized for the first time that April was jealous of her. “Really, bitch?”
“Really!” April began walking away. There wasn’t any way she was riding in Olivia’s car. “I got a train to catch.”
Olivia couldn’t be bothered with April’s tantrum. She had a million reasons to be on cloud nine and knew that she’d get a whole host of haters once her and André began spending the money. She’d only spent a morsel of the money and look how April had reacted.
Chapter 22
Olivia thought that André would wake up in a bad mood as he did the day before, but to her surprise it was the complete opposite. She figured that as long as she didn’t question him about the money, he would be nice to her.
And although she wasn’t going to ask about the money, that didn’t mean she would forget about it. Olivia had every intention of sneaking over to his mother’s house and taking half of the dough, perhaps more than half, and stash it in her own spot, far away from André. She didn’t care if she got a beatdown. That type of money was worth a black eye any day. She just needed to do it at the right time, when she knew he’d be handling business for hours. Right now he seemed to not want to let her out of his sight.
“Yo, what you got to do today?” he asked.
“Nothing. I mean, I’m going into the shop as I always do. Why?”
“I wanted to go down to the Diamond District and snatch us up a few pieces.”
Olivia couldn’t resist. “How much you bringing?”
“About a hundred grand. Is that good enough for you?”
His sarcasm didn’t get past Olivia. If he could dish it out, then he should be able to take it. “Is that all you, or is that hundred grand all me? I’m just askin’.”
“There you go with that slick mouth of yours. What do you mean, all me or you? What kinda shit is you on?”
“I’m just asking where the money is coming from. I don’t want to be thanking you for jewelry that I really bought. So are we going to the district with your paper, or you know, the paper that I got us.”
André realized that Olivia was the type of chick his mother had always warned him about. The kind he could spoil for years with his drug money, and the moment he got jammed up, she’d leave him to rot in jail while she’s fucking his best friend.
He loved that she thought she could outsmart him. He knew she was thinking every minute about getting her hands back on that money.
“Nah, this all me,” he lied. “I told you I put that money up at my mom’s crib for us. So either you coming or not.”
“OK, I’m coming. Just give me thirty minutes to get dressed.”
André could tell that Olivia tried not to show her excitement.
While Olivia was showering, he ran to his safe and emptied it into three black Prada duffel bags. He packed six keys of cocaine, all his jewelry, and eighty-five thousand dollars in cash. That took all of five minutes. Next, he grabbed all her jewels too. Anything of value that he’d purchased for her throughout the years—mink coats, Rolex watches, diamond tennis bracelets, everything. He then ran that down to his trunk before realizing that he didn’t want to drive down to midtown with all that cocaine. He grabbed the duffel bag with the key’s and ran that back upstairs just before Olivia emerged from the shower. After the Diamond District, he was out. He’d come back for the coke after he dropped her to her hair salon.
Dirty Money Honey Page 18