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The Black Widow Clique

Page 2

by Genesis Woods


  “His name is Roman Black. Here!” I said, giving her the Forbes list I had printed out.

  “Okay . . . Roman Black. Net worth, seventy-four-point-nine million. Source of wealth, RTD. What’s RTD?”

  “Real Time Delivery. It’s the company that’s buying out UPS and is thinking about taking over FedEx. You haven’t heard of them before?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, now you know.”

  “But seventy-five million? It’s going to be hard to get next to him, Fee. We’re used to thousandaires and shit, not no multimillionaires. You see how I had to fight Doug’s daughter for almost a year in court, trying to get the little money I got from him. That little bitch was contesting damn near everything, talking about foul play.”

  “And whose fault was that? I told you to make sure you knew where all the cameras were before the shit went down. But no, you only thought about checking the inside of the house. Good thing Cowboy was able to get ahold of the tape that showed your dingy ass talking to Proof on the patio an hour before the home invasion. What the hell was he doing there so early, and what were y’all arguing about, anyway?”

  She got up and went to fix herself a drink at the bar next to my kitchen. The white tights and tank top she had on clung to her body like a second skin. Every dip and curve in the right place, without a hint of fat anywhere. The mismatched ankle socks she had on threw me off a bit, but she always wore her socks like that.

  “Some dumb bullshit, as always. He thinks we’re still in a relationship even after I’ve told him a million times that we’re not. Just because we have a daughter together doesn’t mean shit. He was on my head, talking about I better not give that nigga Doug another shot of pussy before he dies.” She laughed and took a sip of her drink. “Do you know that the whole time I was married to Doug, Proof would text me every day, talking about NPT?”

  “What’s NPT?”

  “No pussy tonight.”

  We burst out laughing, because I could see Proof’s sprung ass sending some text like that. She swallowed that first shot down whole, then took another.

  “Girl, even with the dude before Doug, he would do the same thing. We should’ve never brought him on,” she said.

  I could see where she was coming from. Things had gone a lot smoother when Proof didn’t know fully what we were doing. But after the incident we had had when it was time to kill my then husband, Kenneth, we both decided that having some muscle would be better than getting caught up with a murder charge and spending the rest of our lives in jail.

  Melonee

  “Bitch, make sure you read that file as soon as you get home. My inside source at his company said that he’s scheduled to have a business meeting with some potential investors in a couple of days at Decadence,” Fiona said.

  “What does that have to do with me? From what you just told me, he doesn’t even like strippers,” I responded.

  “He doesn’t, but I need you to keep your eyes and ears open. Maybe one of your new coworkers knows something we don’t about him that will help me to get closer.”

  I shook my head. That was her problem: she was always overthinking shit. I told her all the time to just let things flow. Men could tell when you were trying too hard to get their attention. That was why I never read any of those files. My natural charm and wit were what attracted them to me. My looks and my body were just added bonuses.

  “All right. I gotcha,” I said as I backed out of her driveway. Then I headed toward the freeway.

  Fiona had said that she got a job as a waitress in the VIP section of Club Decadence, the strip club, so we’d sometimes be working together. I wondered why she got to keep her clothes on but I had to take mine off. It wasn’t like she was slacking in the body department. I mean, her breasts weren’t as big as mine, but she had some wide hips and a nice-shaped ass. Her stomach was flat but not toned, so sometimes when she wore crop tops, you could see faint signs of a small pudge. A true fan of the thirty-inch Brazilian weave craze, Fiona had had some purple and violet bundles of different lengths sewn into her head. The color didn’t really compliment her light brown skin, but after she thinned out her eyebrows and put her makeup on, I liked the look a little more.

  After getting off the freeway at my exit, I stopped by McDonald’s for something to eat. I pulled into the drive-through and ordered a Chicken McNuggets Happy Meal for the munchkin and a Filet-O-Fish combo for me. I thought about getting my granny something too, but I decided not to, knowing she already had a big pot of black-eyed peas on the stove and some bacon-grease corn bread in the oven.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am. Your total’s going to be ten dollars and thirty-seven cents.”

  “Can you add three oatmeal-raisin cookies and three sugar cookies?” I asked the drive-through chick politely as I handed her a crisp new twenty.

  “Sure. No problem.” She took my money with one hand, then put her other over the mouthpiece of her microphone. “And by the way, I love your car. I can’t wait until I start making some real money so that I can get me one just like it.”

  I smiled as I glanced at the peanut-butter interior of my Jaguar C-X17. I didn’t know her financial status or anything, and I’d never intentionally knock the next person’s hustle, but working at McDonald’s part-time was not going to pay for a car like this. Instead of saying what was actually on my mind, I opted for some words of encouragement instead.

  “At least you’re starting somewhere. Just keep working hard, and you’ll get it one day.”

  “Is that how you got yours?”

  I hesitated for a second. I’d never actually had a real job in my life, so I didn’t really know how to answer that. If you could call baiting, marrying, and killing men for money a job, then I guessed that was what it was, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

  “Yep. Doing a job that I didn’t necessarily love, saving up, and working hard allowed me to buy this pretty little bitch as well as a few other things.”

  The way her eyes lit up with excitement over what the other things could be made me laugh. I remembered a time when I used to get all excited about material things. That same drive and hustle that I could feel radiating off of her was what had got me to where I was today. Although I loved being able to go into any store that I wanted to without worrying about checking price tags, I felt I was missing something deep down inside me. Everything I’d ever dreamed of having when I was younger was in the palms of my hands, yet if I was being real honest, I wasn’t 100 percent happy. I mean, I was caked up like crazy, had racks on racks on racks, even for a rainy day, and was the mother to the cutest little six-year-old in the world, and yet I wasn’t content.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Your order!” broke me from my train of thought. It was either that or the loud blaring of horns from the cars behind me. I was so zoned out that I had to look around for a second to remember where I was. When I looked up at the drive- through chick, she had a weird expression on her face as she handed me my food.

  “Uh, are you okay? It seemed like you checked out for a minute,” she said.

  I smiled, slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry about that. With your questions, you just had me thinking about the way I grew up.” I checked to make sure my order was correct. “Thank you for my food, and I’ll see you around.”

  She nodded her head, then started talking to the ratchet-ass person who I could hear hollering through her headset. With music blasting, babies making all kinds of noise, it was a wonder she could hear anything the girl was saying. I shook my head as I pulled off; I didn’t think I could ever do her job. I’d be cursing the majority of the people who came to my window, ordering out food.

  Pulling into my granny’s driveway, I couldn’t help but smile at the old lady as she crouched on her knees in her green khakis, yellow button-down shirt, sunflower apron, and gardening gloves, tending to the begonias and dwarf irises she had planted a couple of weeks ago.

  I climbed out of my car and walked up to her. “Gra
nny, what did I tell you about being on your knees on that hard-ass ground like that? The reason why I bought you that expensive-ass kneeling pad was so that you would be comfortable when you were out here working on your garden.”

  She waved me off. “My mommy didn’t use one, and neither did my grandmother, so I’m not about to break with tradition because you young people don’t wanna do any hard work nowadays. I’ll never understand how y’all want everything to be done so easy but to come out looking like twenty years’ worth of work.” With the help of my arm, she rose up off the ground. “If you don’t remember anything I’ve ever taught you, please remember this one thing, Melonee. Nothing worth having comes easy. You have to work hard for what you want, in life and in love.”

  “I know, Granny,” I said, then kissed her on her nutmeg-colored cheek. She’d been saying that to me ever since I could remember. “Where’s the munchkin at? She never misses the chance to help do the flowers with her Memaw.”

  “She’s in the house, already eating.”

  “Already eating? Granny, you know I bring her McDonald’s every Thursday. Why would you sit her down to eat them black-eyed peas and corn bread?”

  “I didn’t feed her anything. Even though the homemade food I cook would be way better than that processed mess you like to bring her.” She gathered up all her little shovels and pruning tools. “Her daddy came about twenty minutes ago with some pizza and chicken wings from that place she likes so much.”

  I rolled my eyes. This was the shit that got on my nerves about this muthafucka Proof. Whenever I would ignore this nigga’s phone calls or unexpected drive-bys, he would always bring his dumb ass over here and try to catch me slipping with that “spend time with my baby” bullshit. I wanted to hop back into my car and go straight home, but I knew my baby girl would be heartbroken since she looked forward to my Thursday visits. Looking at my granny with pleading eyes, I silently asked if she could go kick Proof’s ass out, because that was the only way he would leave, but when she started to slowly shake her head, I knew that request was a no go.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Ms. Thing. I told your hot ass not to mess with the little nigga when he first started to sniff around you,” my granny fussed as she started walking to the front of her house. “To keep it quite honest, though, Mel, you might need to take a few lessons from him about certain things.”

  “A few lessons like what?”

  “Hard work being one. That boy worked his ass off to get you to finally give in to his advances. And look what happened when you did.”

  When we walked into the house, Proof and Madison were sitting in the middle of the living room, having a princess tea party with her little friend from down the street and a few of her favorite stuffed animals. Yellow feather boas, tiaras, and pink bubble gum lip gloss were the attire for the event, and each one of the guests was in uniform, including Proof’s ass. As much I couldn’t stand my ex outside of our co-parenting of Madison, I couldn’t help but smile at the scene before me. Seeing this six-foot-four, 245-pound, athletically built man with a walnut complexion abandon his hard-core street persona mask and change into one of his daughter’s fashionably dressed, pinkie-pointing tea party guests, complete with clip-on earrings, did something to my heart.

  Times like this were when I wished things between Proof and me had turned out better than they had. But after five years of being the main chick with side-chick benefits, I finally gave up on whatever it was you could say we had. Even with him looking like the exact replica of that model Don Benjamin, I couldn’t do it. Granny often told me that I had given up on my family too fast. I would always shake my head when she said that. If she knew how many other families this nigga had tried to start while we were together, she’d probably feel a lot differently.

  “Mommy!” Madison screamed, grabbing my attention as she ran toward me, the clear beads at the end of her neatly braided hair hitting against each other and making that loud bead noise.

  After kneeling down, I scooped my little munchkin into my arms and gave her a big hug. Because I was still dealing with some things related to Doug’s estate and business dealings in Florida, I hadn’t seen my baby girl in almost two weeks. Proof and I had both agreed some time ago that Granny should take care of Madison full-time. With the business that we were in, we didn’t feel that it was safe for either of us to keep her in the homes that we lived in. None of our marks knew about our real personal lives, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t find out, especially if they dug deep enough.

  After kissing her all over her face and making her laugh, I placed her back on the floor.

  “Mommy, come play tea party with me and Daddy. We just finished eating our desserts, so now it’s time for a spot of tea.” My baby tried to say that with a fake English accent. I laughed because it sounded horrible, yet it was so cute.

  I looked at Proof, who was still sitting on the pink bedsheet, with a cup of tea in his hand and one of Madison’s Mad Hatter hats from Disneyland on his head. When I was on my way to see my baby today, I hadn’t expected to be spending time with her father as well, but if this was what was going to make my little munchkin happy, then I was going to have to be okay with it.

  I allowed Madison to pull me over to the sheet and sit me down on the floor, next to her stuffed rabbit and Minion dolls.

  “Okay, Mommy. This is for you,” Madison said as she handed me a small teacup on a saucer and then poured what I assumed was some Lipton Brisk Tea into my cup. “Now, hold the handle with your right hand, stick your pinkie up in the air, and take a sip.”

  After listening to my daughter’s directions, I did as she said and took a sip of the cold tea.

  “Is it good, Mommy?”

  “Yes, it’s very good, baby. Did you make it?”

  She laughed. “Yes and no. Daddy sort of helped me make it. He poured the water in the cup, and I scooped the brown powder stuff in and stirred it around. I took some out to Memaw to try, and she said it was too sweet, so me and Daddy had to put some more water in it.”

  My eyes connected with Proof’s, which were already on me. “How long you been over here?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “For a few hours now.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at Madison, who was in her own world, playing with her stuffed animals and her little friend, then back at me. “Because I wanted to see my baby . . . and talk to you about something.”

  “Talk to me about what?” I tried to stop the eye roll that followed my question, but I couldn’t. If Proof wanted to talk to me about something, that meant that he knew about our next job and what my part would be in all of this. I could bet my last dollar that he wasn’t too happy with what my new occupation was going to be and that I was going to have to hear his mouth about it.

  He looked at Madison again. “Maddy, I think Memaw wants a cup of tea. Why don’t you and your friend pour her a cup and take it out to her? You never let her taste the new batch we made.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” Madison said as she picked up her teakettle and another cup to take outside to my grandmother. Her friend stood up after her and followed her out. As soon as the sound of the screen door closing echoed through the house, Proof went right to the point.

  “So you’re okay with being a stripper now? What part of the game is that? Did you even tell Fiona to try to find you another job? Or are you going to be okay with taking off all your clothes for all the world to see?”

  I stood up and walked into the kitchen. If I was going to have this conversation with Proof, I needed a shot of my granny’s Jack Daniel’s, which she kept in the cabinet above the stove. Proof followed me into the kitchen.

  I took out a shot glass and the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, then filled the glass to the rim. “Jaylen, you know as well as I do that this is only a front. Once Fee gets in good with the target, I won’t have to do it anymore,” I said.

  “You shouldn’t be doing it in the first place. What do I look like being okay with
letting my girl take off her clothes for niggas I know and don’t know?”

  I emptied the shot glass, then poured myself another drink. “First off, I’m not your girl. Haven’t been for some years now. Secondly, if you’re going to keep tripping over the jobs I have to do, or the men I have to marry, and what goes on in all of that, I don’t think you should be a part of the clique anymore. I told Fiona when she first brought up bringing you on that this was a bad idea, especially since you still have feelings for me.”

  “And you don’t have them for me!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “If I’m not mistaken, it was you who came to my house to get this dick whenever that old fuck Douglas was out of town! It was you who was screaming about how much you missed me, missed us, and what we used to have. It’s only been a year since we stopped fucking, Mel. Even then, that didn’t stop your ass from sending me those late-night ‘What you doing?’ and ‘Are you busy?’ texts. We both know what time it is when people send out shit like that after midnight. Come on now! I meant what I said to you the day after we killed ole boy. If we can’t be back together as a couple and as a family, then I ain’t fucking with you, regardless of how much I love you.”

  “Then why are we having this conversation about me stripping? Obviously, I don’t want to go down that road with you again, or we’d be together now.”

  Proof wiped his hand over his face and mumbled something under his breath. Yeah, I knew I was sending mixed signals when I allowed him to dick me down while I was married to Doug, but shit, could you blame me? I was used to that wild, rough, and thuggish sex. Doug had always wanted to make love to me and be gentle, and I didn’t want that, especially when I wasn’t in love with him.

  “Look, Jaylen, we should’ve never started messing around again. That was my bad. I’m also sorry for leading you on in any kind of way. It was never my intention to make it seem like we were getting back together or anything. All I want is for us to be great parents to Madison, and that’s it. If ever we talk or have a conversation, it should pertain only to things about our child. Other than that, don’t question me or say anything to me about what I have going on or what I do outside of her. We are coworkers and parents, and we are not a couple anymore, so we have to find some kind of balance between the two.”

 

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