Larceny

by Jason Poole

  At that moment I lifted Sonya up in my arms and carried her across the grass. She held onto me tight as if she didn’t want to let go as I placed her down on the blanket.

  “Jovan, that was fun, but I must say I was a little surprised by your actions. I do not know of any man who would have done what you just did. If only there were more men like you these day. Was I heavy?” Sonya said.

  “No, sweetheart. You wasn’t heavy. I could carry you forever.” I sat down beside Sonya, and she began to take her shoes off.

  “Here, let me do that for you.” I took off each shoe slowly and began massaging her feet.

  “Oh, Jovan, that feels so good. You sure know how to treat a woman.”

  “Sonya, you’ve got the prettiest feet I have ever seen,” I said as I admired her perfectly manicured feet.

  “Thank you, Jovan, and you are the most romantic person I have ever dated,” Sonya said, looking deep into my eyes.

  “Now, how you gonna say that when this is only our second time with each other?” I said, grinning slyly at her.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I may be speaking too fast,” Sonya said.

  We both laughed. I then got our food out of the basket and placed it on the blanket.

  “Well, Sonya, I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a turkey on rye and a tuna fish on wheat,” I said, placing both sandwiches in front of her for her to choose.

  “I’ll take the tuna. What’s that over there?” Sonya asked, pointing to the container of fruit.

  “Oh, this is a freshly made fruit salad.”

  “Umm, it looks good.”

  We ate and talked about almost everything. She had this way about her that put my soul at ease. I had just met her and I was digging her style already. This shit had never happened to me before. I mean, I’d had a lot of women before, but not one like her.

  “Jovan,” Sonya said, bringing my attention back to her.

  “Yeah?”

  “Come over here closer to me.” As I moved closer, Sonya began to massage my back and neck. “Jovan, do you work out?” she asked as she continued massaging my neck.

  “Yeah, baby, I do. I go to the gym three times a week,” I said, enjoying her soft hands as they massaged my neck.

  “I can tell.”

  Sonya was rubbing my back and neck so good that my dick started getting hard. After she had massaged me, I returned the favor as we continued talking.

  “Jovan,” Sonya said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I wanna taste that fruit salad.”

  “Well, the only way you can taste it is if you let me feed it to you,” I said, opening the container of fruit.

  “I’m cool with that.”

  I fed Sonya strawberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, and all the other fruit that was in the salad. The way she closed her eyes and held her tongue out made my dick even harder. I started imagining how she’d look while we were making love. After I fed her the fruit salad, she fed me a few strawberries, and I did the same thing she did: closed my eyes and held out my tongue.

  Suddenly something sweet, soft, and warm touched my tongue, but I didn’t bother to open my eyes because I realized that Sonya was kissing me. I kissed her back. The kiss itself was explosive, and I could have kissed her all afternoon.

  “What was that for?” I asked after she had stopped.

  “Just a little something to let you know how much I appreciate you doing all this for me. Jovan, you’ve made me feel special today. I’ve never had no one take the time out to do something like this,” Sonya said seriously.

  “And I’ve never had no one to take out like this until I met you.”

  “Yeah, right. You’ve probably got women crawling on their knees trying to be with you.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “No, baby, you don’t have to worry about that,” she said.

  “Vice versa. So are you sayin’ we can see each other again?” I asked hopefully.

  “You damn right. Every chance we get, Jovan.”

  “So I take it you’re feeling me right about now, huh?”

  “Men like you don’t just fall out the sky, so when I find one, I gotta grab hold to him.”

  “I’m thinking the same thing about you.”

  “C’mon, baby, I gotta get back to work,” Sonya said, getting up off the blanket.

  I got up and carried Sonya back to my car, packed everything, and drove her back to work. When we pulled up to Sonya’s job, I gave her my number and a light kiss on the lips.

  Before she got out of the car, Sonya said, “Jovan, again, thank you for today. I had a wonderful time, and by the way, your ass better call me tonight or else.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Don’t call and see what happens.”

  “So you’re threatening me now?”

  “No, that’s not a threat, baby. It’s a promise.”

  As Sonya was getting out of the car, Germain and another female were standing out front waiting for her. Germain and me waved at each other, and as Sonya closed the door, I could hear her say to Germain, “Damn, y’all so nosy!”

  Sonya

  Jovan and I had a nice time at the park, and to tell you the truth, he romanced the hell outta me. Most niggas didn’t even think about doing shit like that. They thought they had to show their money off to get somebody to like them.

  It was wonderful being with Jovan just looking at the sky, trees, and all of nature. I was on a natural high with him. He gave me inspiration because he wasn’t like other guys I’d dated. He had an aura about him that made me smile and made my pussy get wet all at the same time. I guess that was why I kissed him like that. I couldn’t hold it back. Jovan made my day, and I knew if I continued seeing him, eventually he’d make my world.

  Jovan

  After I dropped Sonya off, I went back to the office and gave Mark his keys.

  “Hey, Jovan, how did it go?” Mark asked me.

  “It went real cool. I laid it down like a true playa supposed to,” I said and then told Mark what happened.

  “Man, Jovan, you’re smooth. I might have to try that one.”

  “Naw, you couldn’t do that. Your shit would be in the newspaper on the front page: Lawyer Fucks Prosecutor in Public Park.” We laughed.

  “Jovan, you’re crazy, man. Look, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mark said.

  It was about two o’clock, and I had a lot of time before I had to go to Bilal’s house. I had about two thousand in big bills on me, so I decided to go down to Georgetown to Solbiato and get a few shirts and some shoes.

  I got down to Georgetown and parked on the opposite side of the store. I looked at all the cars in front of Solbiato. It looked like a car show. There was a Lexus LS400, Benz Coupe VI2600, Benz 500SL, Infiniti Q45, and a Range Rover. This was where all the players in the city shopped, and believe me, the joint was flooded with bitches.

  When I came in the store, I saw D and Ant, two dudes I knew from the southeast side. I shoulda known all that big shit outside was theirs and their crew. These niggas were getting it. They were the only niggas in the city that wasn’t copping from Bilal.

  When I came through, the first person that made contact with me was D. We were cool back in ’91 when I had a few niggas on the south side movin’ ounces like welfare cheese. We never did business together, but we always respected and acknowledged each other, I guess mainly because our styles were similar. The nigga was smooth just like me, and he wore top flight shit and kept a bad bitch with him.

  When I was locked up in Lewisburg, I used to hear good things about him, about how he stayed loyal to his man Ant when he was down Lorton and how he broke him off something real nice when he came home; sorta like Bilal and me, but the only thing different was that Bilal and me didn’t hang out together or hustle together.

  “Hey, what’s up, Jovan?” D said, coming over to me.

  “What’s up, D?”

  “Ain’t shit going on. Damn, Jovan, I ain
’t seen you in a while. Where you been at?”

  “I was in the feds for a minute,” I said.

  “How long you’ve been home?” D asked.

  “About eight months now.”

  “Yeah, so what you doing?” D said as he checked me out to see if he could notice any signs of me getting back into the hustling game.

  “I’m a paralegal now. I work for Mark.”

  “Who, Mark Rohon?” D asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, I’ve been working for Mark for the past six months now.”

  “Damn, Jay, I was ’bout to ask you was you tryin’ to get down. I know we ain’t never did business before, but I do know your hustling skills, and I’d love to have a nigga like you on my team,” he said, eagerly wanting me to accept his proposition.

  “Naw, man, I ain’t fucking around no more. I’ma do this paralegal thang.”

  “If that don’t work out for you, you know you can always holla at me,” D said. “So what, you getting ready for that party tomorrow?”

  “What party?” I said, thinking about all the lavish parties I went to back when I was hustlin’ real good. Damn, that shit was fun.

  “The Madness Connection is giving a hair show and an after party downtown at the Sphinx Club,” D said.

  “The Sphinx Club. That’s off of Fourteenth Street, ain’t it?”

  “Yeah. You going?” he asked as he watched me fumble through the shirt racks.

  “Naw, I doubt it. I’m just here try’na find a couple shirts or something,” I said, continuing to look through the shirt racks.

  “They got some a’ight shit in here, but I already got most of this shit. Jovan, you know me. I gotta go up to Wisconsin Avenue to the V shop and get that signature Versace shit. I’ma holla at you, slim. Take care,” D said.

  “A’ight, D. Keep your head up.”

  Damn, if I ever wanted to ever hustle again, I had the biggest opportunity in the world.

  I checked out a few shirts. I didn’t see anything I liked, but I did see some shoes. I bought a pair of Versace soft-bottom shoe-boots, some Caesar Picotti slip-ons, and a pair of nice-ass Salvatore Ferragamo lace-ups. All together it came to eleven hundred dollars.

  As I was leaving, I saw this gray Hugo Boss sweat suit. Now, I don’t wear sweat suits, but this joint was hitting. I had to get it. The sweat suit was six hundred dollars.

  I left and went to Grandma’s to see if she had gotten those estimates to get the house fixed. As soon as I came through the door, I heard Grandma hanging up the phone.

  “Hey, Grandma, what’s up, baby girl?” I asked her.

  “Jovan, I wish you would have came in a little earlier. You would have caught your daddy. That was him on the phone, and he asked about you. He wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh yeah. Grandma, did you call and get the estimates on how much everything will cost?” I said, quickly changing the subject off my pops.

  “Yeah, baby, but I dunno if you got that kinda money.”

  “C’mon, Grandma, how much is it?”

  “They want seven thousand for the basement and three thousand for the ceiling.”

  “I got that for you, baby girl.”

  “Jovan, where you get that kind of money, boy?”

  “It fell out of the sky, Grandma.”

  “Fell out the sky my foot. You better not be out there doing nothing illegal,” Grandma said seriously.

  “C’mon, Grandma, I’m a lawyer’s assistant. What I look like breaking the law?”

  “Yeah, you better not, ’cause if you do, I’ma be breakin’ my foot off in your ass.”

  “Go ’head with that, baby girl,” I said to her, laughing.

  “You so damn silly. Did you eat yet?”

  “Naw, Grandma, I ain’t hungry.”

  I went upstairs to get ten Gs out for Grandma and came down to give it to her. It was about 6:30 p.m., so I decided to call Sonya. She had been on my mind all day since our picnic.

  Ring, Ring, Ring.

  “Hello,” Sonya said.

  “May I speak to my wife?” I said, happy to hear her voice.

  “Your who?” Sonya asked, thinking the person had the wrong number.

  “My wife,” I said, smiling.

  “Who is this?”

  “Who do you want it to be?” I asked her.

  “Jovan, is that you?” Sonya said after realizing it was me.

  “Yeah, baby, what’s up?”

  “Boy, you crazy,” Sonya said.

  “Crazy ’bout you, that is.”

  “Yeah, right. I see you finally called.”

  “Yeah, I was getting scared. I didn’t want you to call me and cuss me out.”

  “Whatever, Jovan,” Sonya said, glad that I had called her.

  We both laughed. Man, it seemed like I already knew Sonya. Outta all the broads I’d been with, ain’t none of ’em made me feel like she did.

  “So, Jovan, what did you do the rest of the day?”

  I told Sonya everything I did, and she told me how her day went and how she bragged to her friends at work about our lunch date. She asked about my grandmother and when she would meet her. We talked for about two hours like teenagers in high school.

  CHAPTER 18

  “A Way Out”

  It was about 8:30 p.m. when Bilal called.

  Ring, Ring, Ring.

  “Hello,” Jovan said, answering the phone.

  “Jovan, you’re supposed to be at my house,” Bilal said.

  “Nigga, you never gave me a time.”

  “Okay, well, I’m on my way home, so hurry up and come over,” Bilal said.

  “I’m on my way,” Jovan said.

  “You eat yet, Jay?”

  “Naw, Grandma cooked but I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Cool. I’ma have Meeka cook something for us.”

  “A’ight then.”

  After Jovan got off the phone with Bilal, he put on his tan Armani summer jacket and headed for the door. As he was leaving, he called out, “Grandma, I’m going out.”

  “Okay, baby. What time you coming back?”

  “C’mon, Grandma, I’m a grown man now. You can’t be putting your press game down on me like that.”

  “Boy, shut up wit’ your crazy self. I wanted to know if I should wait up for you so we could talk.”

  “Naw, you ain’t gotta wait up. I might be out for a while,” Jovan said, giving her a hug.

  “Okay, baby. You be careful out there,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Always, baby girl.” Damn, Grandma always be putting me on a serious guilt trip, he thought. I wanna get out and get my own place, but it would probably break her heart. I guess I’ll give it a little time before I roll out.

  On Jovan’s way to Bilal’s, he listened to the whole Scarface CD, The Diary. His favorite song was “Never Seen a Man Cry.” For some reason, that joint and the other joint “Jesse James” fit his lifestyle. Both of them joints used to put him in a zone, mainly because there was so much truth in ’em.

  When Jovan arrived at Bilal’s house, as usual all that big shit was sittin’ on his lawn. You woulda sworn Mike Tyson lived at the joint. There was an extra car that wasn’t there the last time he was there, a 600s 4-door Benz, and he figured it was Carlos’s joint.

  As Jovan came to the door, Meeka was right there with much more attitude than the last time.

  “Hi, Jovan. C’mon in. The fellas are downstairs in the game room. Jovan, I’m cooking. You don’t eat beef, do you?”

  “Naw, Meeka, I don’t eat red meat.”

  “Good then. Tell them the food will be ready in a minute.”

  “Okay, Meeka,” Jovan said, heading downstairs, where Bilal and Carlos were playing pool.

  “Hey, my mu’fuckin’ nigga Jay. What’s up, slim?” Bilal said, coming over to give him love.

  “What’s up, Lal?” Jovan said, returning the love.

  “Los, c’mon here. Jay, this Los; Los, this Jay,” Bilal said, making the introductions
.

  “What’s up, Jay? As you already know, Bilal speaks very highly of you. I’ve been hearing your name come out of this nigga’s mouth since Oak Hill,” Los said.

  “Yeah, I heard a few things ’bout you also, and finally we meet,” Jovan said, shaking his hand.

  “And from here on you niggas is family,” Bilal said, butting in.

  “That’s already understood,” Jovan said, giving him a stern look.

  When Jovan looked over to his right, he laid his eyes on the most money he had ever seen in his life: stacks and stacks of dough, along with four money counting machines.

  “Damn, y’all niggas got a lot of money layin’ around!” Jovan said, amazed at all the money.

  “We just finished countin’ that shit, Jay. Well, I just finished countin’ it ’cause this nigga was upstairs playin’ house with Meeka,” Los said as he looked over at Bilal and laughed.

  “Go ’head with that shit, Los. How much money is that?” Bilal said.

  “A little more than five million. About five point three,” Los said.

  “Man, Lal, that’s a lot of dough,” Jovan said, not taking his eyes off the money that looked like stacks of cinder blocks.

  “Nigga, a percentage of this shit is yours, so go ahead and kiss it,” Bilal said.

  “Naw, I’m a’ight. What’s up? Give me the rundown on what you plan to do with all this money,” Jovan said curiously.

  “Look, Jay, this is the plan: we got five point three mil. We’re gonna cop with three point five mil. After we get finished pumpin’ all this shit, I’ma sell the house and most of these cars, head down to Atlanta, and turn all this shit legit, get some kind of business, maybe a few car lots. After we cop and move everything, we’re gonna come out ten million strong, and after I sell the house and cars, we’re gonna have like seventeen million altogether.

  “Los is going back to Puerto Rico, and I’m going to Atlanta, and, Jay, you’re going to law school to get that license, ’cause we’re gonna need a way on how to legitimize this shit. Jay, I want you to go to Atlanta with me, get yourself a law firm, and we can enjoy this money together, ’cause like I said, a percentage of this shit is yours.”