by Noire
The sight of the smooth white boy brandishing a gat made the danger all too real for me.
“Y’all stop! Y’all stop!” me and DarQuese both yelled. A small crowd had started to gather, and a couple of young dudes were laughing at the sight of Pit sweating and clutching his bulging eye.
Pit jumped to his feet and glared at the young boys. Something dark entered his eyes, and his sinister expression told me that this cat had been laughed at before. He had been laughed at a lot.
And he didn’t like it.
“Yo, you fuckin’ snuck me, son!” Pit bitched at Gino as he paced back and forth. “You snuck me! You got that one, but I’ma sneak you back. Yeah, I’ma put something on you that’ll sit you down, muh’fucka. Just watch. Me and you gone both be the same fuckin’ size!”
Me and DarQuese gave each other a look. Enough was definitely enough. She stepped up to Pit, and I got in front of Gino and put my hand on his hard shoulder.
“C’mon, baby,” I said in a whisper. “Look at all these people out here watching us. This guy isn’t worth it. We’re supposed to be keeping it low, remember?”
A cop car rolled by, and Slick Sallie stuck his gun hand behind his back and waved pleasantly at the white police officers with his other hand.
Pit shook DarQuese off then stormed across the street bitching and fussing the whole time. “Your ass is minez, niggah!” he screamed at Gino. “You and ya fuckin’ white boy is both gonna get served!”
Sallie just laughed. “That little guy has a whole lot of mouth,” he said.
Gino nodded, and then he walked over to where he had slung Cynthia’s dresses in the street. Keeping his eye on Pit, Gino picked up the dresses and brushed them off before handing them to me.
And then out of nowhere, Gino turned back to the baller with the cornrows. Dude was still sprawled all over the parked car trying to pull himself together.
“Yo, my niggah,” Gino spit smoothly although fire still raged in his eyes. “Check this out. C’mere, Juicy.” He grabbed my hand and posted me up right in front of the Philly baller. “You sure my baby ain’t sweet, ak?”
I grilled dude hard, fronting like crazy. I knew he wasn’t the type to run away from a fight. He was a risk-taker, and danger was in his blood. I’d known that the night he violated G’s territory up in the G-Spot, but that didn’t stop me from letting him munch me out.
I was shocked when he frowned with his blood-crusted lips and shook his head.
“Nah, Chief,” he said to Gino. “I don’t know if ya girl is sweet or not, ak. Cause I ain’t never tasted her.”
I went limp with relief. I wanted to thank him for biting his tongue. Instead, I took Gino’s arm. The killer look he was still giving the baller told me it was time for us to dip.
Sallie and Gino stayed outside while me, Quese, Teenie, and all their nosy customers went back in the beauty shop. I was too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes as I took off my plastic smock and got my purse from the cabinet under Quese’s station.
“Oh, so you’re leaving now?” she asked dryly. I could tell she was real salty over the drama that had just gone down between our men.
“Yeah. I have to go with Renata to take a last-minute look at the menu for my wedding dinner tomorrow night.”
Her lips got all twisted. “I don’t even wanna know how much you’re paying that trick to cook, Juicy! I told you I coulda got my aunts to fry some chicken, and make some collard greens and macaroni and cheese for you real cheap.”
“Oh, I’m not paying her,” I said. “The Organization is hosting the wedding for us remember? Renata’s catering all the food for me.”
DarQuese frowned for a quick second, but then the unscarred half of her face smiled.
“I wanna be mad at your ass, Juicy, but I just can’t. You know I don’t like that white girl, but you’re my friend and regardless, I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Quese,” I said. “That means a lot to me.” And it really did, because the situation between Pit and Gino was bad enough. I didn’t want there to be any static between me and her too.
She eyed my hair. “You sure you gotta go? Sit back at the sink and let me rinse you real quick.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m good. I need to get outside and make sure Gino is calm. I can rinse my hair in the shower when I get home.”
DarQuese opened her top drawer and took out an envelope. “This is from Cynt.”
“Cool,” I said without opening it because I knew Cynthia’s money was always good. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” I asked. “You’re gonna close up early so you can make it to the dinner on time, right?”
She smirked. “You mean you want me to cut my paper short just because a white chick is gonna feed us some dried-out chicken that we probably ain’t gonna be able to chew anyway?”
All I could do was shake my head.
“You are truly crazy,” I said as I headed for the door. “But I have a feeling that once you get a chance to chill with Renata you’re really going to like her.”
“Shiiiit,” I heard DarQuese drawl. “No I won’t.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and her arms were crossed over her little titties. I was almost out the door as she said it again.
“No the hell I won’t.”
CHAPTER 9
Renata and her husband Frankie lived in a gated community about ten minutes away from our condo. Unlike me and Gino, they didn’t even try to hide their money, and if G hadn’t already exposed me to the finer things in life my mouth would’ve been hanging open each time I walked through their doors. But as it was, the gorgeous travertine floors and shiny granite countertops didn’t impress me. Neither did the chic furniture or expensive paintings that hung from every wall.
What did impress me though was Renata. I had never been tight with a white girl before and at first I didn’t know how to take her. I judged Renata to be about thirty-five, but she looked damn good for her age. She jogged and lifted weights and all that, and she was forever sipping on bottled water and protein shakes.
Renata didn’t have a job, but Frankie was the boss man of The Organization so she stayed laced from head to toe. She was always inviting me to go with her to get a facial or get our nails done, or to just lounge in the sauna and get massaged at the clubhouse while our corporate men worked out big deals on the golf course.
I knew Renata could probably tell I had been born poor and raised in the hood, but she didn’t even blink when I told her I was from the heart of Harlem. She was like yeah, Harlem is real cool and then she told me Frankie and his brothers, and even the Asian attorney named Jason who worked with them, had all been down with some kind of high-powered family business back in Brooklyn. She said Frankie had recently sold off some assets and decided to relocate to someplace warm and expand his business on both coasts.
Of course, I wasn’t about to tell her why me and Gino had left the Empire State. I didn’t want her all up in my business, and she didn’t ask me about anything either. Renata wasn’t the prying type, and I appreciated her not trying to get up under my left titty. After having to sneak and do everything my whole life, first under Grandmother’s roof and then under G’s, I wasn’t in the mood to keep telling a bunch of lies. I was about to turn twenty years old soon, and after all the drama I had been through I didn’t owe anybody any bullshit stories.
I’d gone home to shower and change clothes, and now Renata and I were heading to the caterers to give them final approval for my menu items. Afterward, she was taking me to an exclusive health spa for a mud wrap and a water massage.
I got to her house a few minutes early, and she was dressed in pink sweats and talking on her cell phone when she answered the door. The house had a breezy, open design, and it was always crisp and clean and smelled like the maid had just left. She smiled and waved me toward the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, Juicy. The remote is on the table. I’ll be right back.”
I kicked off my shoes and sank down i
nto a yellow leather sofa that felt like a cream puff on my ass. I turned on the television and channel surfed until I landed on the Braxton Family Values show. I really loved it! Toni and her sisters were a trip, and they made me wish I had some sisters to love and argue with. I was deep into the show when Renata’s house phone rang. A number popped up on the big screen. It said “Blocked” but it had an 804 area code with the rest of the numbers showing in a line of seven x’s. I wasn’t gonna answer it until Renata yelled, “Hey Juicy, can you get that? It’s probably Nunna, my grandmother in Brooklyn!”
I hopped up and snatched the phone off the base. “Hello,” I said, pressing the receiver to my ear. “You’ve reached the Sanvenero residence. Can I help you?”
There was a long, long pause on the other end, and I was just about to say hello again when a man’s deep voice growled, “Yo, who dis?”
Before I could answer the line went dead. Dude had hung up. Renata flounced back into the living room carrying a small gym bag. She had changed into a black tube top and a pair of tight white jeans. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a thick white scrunchie around it.
“Who was it?” she asked.
I shrugged, the dead phone still in my hand. “I don’t know, but I don’t think it was your grandma.”
“Oh, hell,” Renata said, chuckling. “You would’ve known if it was my Nunna. You would’ve known for sure.”
“The area code was 804, but the rest of the number came up blocked on the caller ID,” I told her. “It was a man, though. He sounded Black. He asked me who I was, and then he hung up.”
Renata’s bag hit the floor. She narrowed her eyes and gave me a real funny look. “Did you tell him anything?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t get a chance to say anything because he hung up on me.”
The phone rang again and Renata snatched it from my hand. She clicked the talk button real fast, but not fast enough where I didn’t peep the caller ID as it flashed on the television screen. It was a blocked number again, just like the last time, and it had the same 804 area code too.
“Hold on,” she said into phone. “It’s my Nunna,” she told me, pressing the phone to her chest as she dug into her purse. “From Brooklyn.” She passed me the keys to her whip. “I’ll meet you in the car. Cut the air on,” she added, turning away, “because the seats are probably hot.”
I caught the hint and headed toward the door. But as I was on my way out, I heard her say something crazy about FedEx arriving soon to pick up a crate of blood oranges.
I knew damn well there was no 804 area code in Brooklyn, and the way Renata was acting was real suspicious. I couldn’t believe she was messing around on her husband, but on the real, if she was getting drilled by some dark meat from the Big 804, that was between her and Frankie. I didn’t even wanna know about it. Hell, this wasn’t Harlem, and I was no longer that fast young girl who always had to be in the know. Determined to mind my own bizz and give Renata the same respect she had always given me, I tipped out of her crib and closed the door behind me.
CHAPTER 10
Huddled in a back room of the G-Spot, they approached their plan like three blind mice. Late into the night Pluto, Ace, and Monique fussed like a bunch of bitches over how they could best use Salida to their advantage. A hundred different scenarios had been argued back and forth, and shortly before dawn they’d finally settled on a strategy. Although they had different approaches they wanted to take, all three schemers had agreed that Salida getting kicked out of that mental hospital was like getting a gift straight from G’s grave.
They figured with G’s ex-wife back on the scene it was only natural that she would be anxious to see her only son right away. And it was also only natural that Gino would raise his head to answer his mother’s loving call. And wherever Gino was hiding Juicy – and G’s money – were sure to be somewhere close by.
Ace and Pluto saw eye-to-eye when it came to picking up Salida and bringing her back to New York so they could position her to their advantage. But after that is where they split.
Ace wanted to use Salida as bait to lure Gino out of hiding just as bad as Monique and Pluto did. But he also wanted to set her up in a chill little crib and treat her in a manner that was befitting of Granite McKay’s wife.
“Yeah, our paper might be a lil short,” Ace insisted, “but whatever ends we got coming through the door is because G stacked shit up that way. Salida is his rightful heir, yo, and we gotta set her up lovely ’cause that’s what G woulda expected us to do. Anything short of that is gonna be like shitting on our manz.”
Pluto, on the other hand was like, fuck no.
“He put her in a nut-house, my nig! That chick is prolly crazy as shit. Yo, we gotta trust G. That niggah knew exactly what the fuck he was doing when he banished her ass from the Empire! He stashed her out there in no-man’s-land for a reason, slime.”
Pluto shook his head. “I’m down to go spring her ass outta that hospital joint and all, but I’m cool on the rest of that shit. She’s got mad family out in Brooklyn, right? Well then she should stay out there and leave Harlem the fuck alone. Let them Puerto Rican muh’fuckas take her in and set her up. She’s they blood, not ours.”
Manipulation was Monique’s middle name so she had been sure to keep quiet during this part of the discussion and let the two big men duke it out. She waited until each of them had feverishly argued their case, and then she calmly suggested a compromise that she believed would satisfy them both.
“Y’all know Salida’s been stuck out there in that crazy-house by herself for a minute now,” she said quietly. “She might not wanna be on her own just yet. Maybe we can take her to her sister’s crib in Brooklyn so she can be around her family and they can look out for her, but then send somebody to bring her to the Spot every night if she wants to come out here.”
Both men had chewed on her suggestion for a few moments, and then nodded their approval. Yeah, Monique gave herself a little pat on the back. It was a decent compromise, but in all honesty Monique didn’t give a damn what Ace or Pluto wanted.
Ace talked that all bullshit about putting Salida up out of loyalty to his manz, but Monique scoffed at that shit. Why be loyal to somebody who wasn’t here to do you a solid or to be loyal back to you? Monique didn’t feel she owed G shit. If anything that niggah owed her. Getting her all souped up and then dying! G had promised to send her and Pluto down to Baltimore to spark up the G-Spot 2, where she was gonna be the head boss-bitch sitting on a throne and running things. And then that niggah goes and gets himself shot!
Of course Monique wanted them to find G’s money, but she wanted something else too. She wanted to get a bitch back. She wanted a piece of that bitch Juicy.
So while Ace and Pluto thought she was sitting around with an empty little head, she was busy scheming and planning. Just a’ planning and scheming. Damn straight. No more sitting up in that grimy-ass Spot feeling sorry for herself. It was time to take the bull by the horns and ride him until he fell the hell out.
Matter fact, it was past time.
$$$$$
Monique opened the door to G’s office and blew a big fat bubble. “Y’all ready?” she asked, smacking her pink Bazooka and working it around in her mouth. Her hair was spiraled-curled tight and bouncy, and her perfume floated above her in an invisible sugar cloud.
Pluto looked up from the money he was counting and grilled her, but Monique didn’t give a damn. His stank ass wasn’t gonna ruin her mood today. They were about to go for a real long car ride and she was hyped like hell. She’d only been out of New York City twice in her entire life, and she’d never been out of the country at all.
She had on some stylish but comfortable traveling gear, and had packed a bag full of snacks for the road. Pluto could buck his eyeballs all he wanted to. Monique was ready to roll.
“Are y’all ready?” she grinned at him and asked again.
“We ready when I say we ready!” he barked from his fat face. And
then he switched it up and whined, “I’m hungry, Mo-Mo. Didn’t I tell you to make me something to eat?”
Monique grinned again and reached into her travel bag. Six o’clock on a Monday morning was not the right time to be cramming your face with tacos, but it was what her man had a taste for, so it was what Monique had fixed.
She pulled out six stuffed beef and chicken soft tacos wrapped in aluminum foil. They were still nice and hot, and she passed them to Pluto as she popped her bubblegum and sang a little tune under her breath.
“What you so happy for?” he barked, snatching the food. “You wanna be singing all early in the fuckin’ morning? How about we drop you off at a studio so you can sing all fuckin’ day!”
Monique ignored him and kept right on carrying her tune. She even snapped her fingers a couple of times and gyrated her juicy ass. Pluto’s noise-talking was bouncing all off of her today. He could say whatever the fuck he wanted to say. She was in no danger of being left behind, and they both knew it.
“I got my photo ID and my driver’s license in my purse, Daddy,” she said just to remind him of how important she was to the success of their plans. Both Pluto and Ace had multiple felonies on their records, and neither could cross the border into Canada without getting detained.
“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Monique sighed and cooed. “I remember everything you told me, and I’m gonna hop over there and pick up our package, then hop right back out, okay?”
Pluto was steady getting busy on his tacos. He nodded a few times and said happily, “This shit good, Mo-Mo. “Real good.”
Monique smiled. She knew she could burn. Her man loved damn near everything she cooked, and when it came to food he wasn’t shy about giving up the compliments.
Thirty minutes later Ace was pushing G’s custom-designed Mercedes north toward Canada. He was in a bad mood and he hadn’t been sleeping right since getting that letter from the sanitarium. He’d been up the last few nights steaming over all the shit that had happened over the past six months. He’d gone back and forth between feeling like a weak bitch for losing all the doe his niggah G had stashed away, and being pissed off at the thought of Gino and Juicy laid up on some tropical fuckin’ island living large and spending that shit.