by Ashley
Leena’s step was more confident as she marched into Odom’s office with determination. “Good morning Ms. Devereaux,” the receptionist greeted at first sight. The many calls she had been instructed to place and flowers she had ordered for Leena on Odom’s behalf . . . the woman was very familiar with Leena. “Please go right in. He’s expecting you.”
Leena gave the woman a gracious smile and headed into Odom’s office.
She went to close the door, but Odom interrupted her. “Leave it open,” he said with a direct tone. Leena paused and looked at him. “Sit.”
He passed her two manila folders, sliding them across the table. “This concludes our business. The account numbers and trust information is inside the folders. Thanks for coming by.”
Leena was taken aback by his tone and change of attitude. Just last night he was sending flowers . . . she thought. She was confused. He was abrupt with her, almost rude. He didn’t even look at her in the eyes as he spoke to her.
He looked up from his desk. “You’re still here because. . .” he let the words linger and Leena jerked her head back, insulted. She flipped through the pages of the manila folder and saw that all of what she needed was inside. The jig would have been up anyway. Now that she had all of The Cartel’s assets in her possession she no longer needed to play nice. Leena stood to her feet abruptly. There was a weirdness in the room as if there was an invisible elephant between them. Fuck it, I’ve got what I came for, she thought. She turned on her heels but the nagging feeling that something was awry wouldn’t let her leave without finding out what the hell was going on. She stopped as she reached the threshold of the door. Turning to Odom she opened her mouth to speak, but Odom held up his hand to stop her.
“Just leave Leena. I don’t want that kind of trouble. You’re off limits,” Odom said, visibly shaken as he lacked his usual confidence. He was abrupt, almost rude, and obviously intimidated. This wasn’t the flirtatious Odom that she had come to expect. In fact, it was almost as if someone had set him straight and she only knew one man that would do such a thing on her behalf.
Leena smirked as her entire chest warmed. She knew that Monroe had sent a message to Odom. He had reached all the way across the world to put a man in his place for coming at his lady. It was then that she realized that no matter the burdens, she loved the swag of being with a dope boy . . . especially one that had risen into infinite power. Monroe had status and because of that so did she. Odom never stood a chance.
“You see Odom. That’s why you would have never been able to get even a whiff of this. I’m attracted to the bad boys and the fact that you were so easily scared off shows exactly how much bitch you have in you,” she said with a laugh. “And to think . . . I almost bought what you were selling.” She shook her head back and forth before adding, “Good-bye Odom.”
Leena strolled out of the office with complete confidence that her man was alive and well. She just hoped that Miamor and Aries did what they had to do so that he could finally come home.
Chapter 10
“Stop bluffing.”
—Yasmine
Carter shook his head in disdain as the blackjack dealer swept up the losing hand. Saudi Arabia had given him a new ritual. He spent his mornings at the card tables trying to beat the odds but today he was nothing but bad luck. He felt a presence behind him as the scent of Yves Saint Laurent invaded his space and Yasmine came into his peripheral view.
“Looks like you need a break, the tables are murdering you,” she said in her husky tone. Carter looked up at her and she flashed him an amused smile.
“You find my losses funny,” he cracked with a half-smile.
She pinched two fingers together and scrunched her face. “Just a little bit. I’ve been in the camera room watching you lose all morning,” she said. She chuckled and reached down to pull him from his seat. “Let’s go. Join me for brunch,” she said.
Carter stood to his feet and pulled a wad of money from the pockets of his Brooks Brother slacks and placed three hundred dollar bills on the table. The dealer broke change but when he went to hand Carter the chips, Carter waved his hand. “Keep it,” Carter said. He always tipped the dealers well and they loved him for it. “See you tomorrow morning Mr. Jones,” the dealer said, never losing count as he dealt a new hand to the remaining players.
Carter nodded and then placed his hands in his pocket as he followed Yasmine out of the casino. The blare of slot machines filled the massive space and the smell of tobacco smoke clung to his clothing.
“I need to get out of these clothes, take a quick shower. I don’t want to ruin your meal by smelling like an ashtray. I can meet you in a half hour,” he said.
“Nonsense, we can stop by your penthouse on the way,” she said.
Carter nodded. He didn’t know her well but from what he could tell, she wasn’t accustomed to the word no. The pampered Arabian princess always got her way.
“Fine,” Carter said. “You remind me of my sister, Breeze.”
“Well Breeze must be fabulous,” Yasmine responded. “Now let’s get you changed before I starve to death.”
They laughed as they conversed on their way to the top floor. When they arrived Carter’s two hospitality servants stood ready to wait on him, hand and foot.
Each woman was equally beautiful, but Carter made sure not to take advantage. “Mr. Jones is fine for the time being ladies. You are dismissed for the day. I promise to take good care of him,” Yasmine said.
Their disappointment was apparent but they didn’t dare object as they left the room. “I think your staff is quite fond of you Carter,” Yasmine said in amusement.
“They are just doing their job,” Carter responded as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his chest and stomach.
“Oh don’t tell me you don’t notice the affect you have on women? You’re quite intriguing,” she said. Her eyes revealed her own interests and Carter shook his head with a smile.
“You’re trouble,” he said.
“Men like trouble,” she said with a wink.
Carter disappeared into the bathroom. “I’ll make this quick,” he said. He showered, the warmth of the water easing the tension from losing as steam filled the bathroom. As he placed both hands against the shower walls he lowered his head beneath the stream. Making it quick he lathered his body and rinsed. He reached for his towel and exited, wrapping it securely around his waist. Carter dripped water across the floor as he made his way to the large walk-in closet that adjoined the master bath. Surprisingly Yasmine was already inside.
“I thought I’d choose something debonair for you to wear,” she said. “You have great style.”
Carter smirked and walked around her. “Thanks but I can piece my own shit together ma. Women like to incorporate too many colors, too many fabrics. I’m simple. Black Ferragamo pants, black button up, nice Mocha shoe, preferably, Prada,” he said as he pulled each item down.
“Nice choice,” she commented.
“Glad to have your approval ma,” he said with a wink as he held his towel in place. “Now do you mind?” he nodded toward the door.
Yasmine gave him a flirtatious purse of the lips as she turned on her heels. “Don’t make me wait too long. I lose interest easily,” she said and somehow he knew that she wasn’t talking about brunch.
Carter knew that he would have to tread lightly with Yasmine. She had been very hospitable during his time in Saudi Arabia. He spent more time with her than he did anyone else and he enjoyed her company. She flirted, he enjoyed it, but he would not cross that line. He was grateful to her father for his assistance in their hiding out and thought that in the future he could make a great ally. Pussy wasn’t worth the destruction of a great business relationship. No matter how pretty the face it was attached to may be.
“Good morning daddy,” Yasmine greeted as she looked up from her mimosa to see her father approaching over Carter’s shoulder.
“Somehow I knew I would find you here,” he said as he lean
ed down to kiss his daughter on the cheek. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I thought I’d invite Carter here to a game of poker.”
“I’m not much of a card playing man,” Carter admitted.
“Then you must learn,” Baraka insisted. “It’s the kind of table that you want to have a seat at. Not everyone is accepted to play.”
“Count me in,” Carter agreed.
“Very good,” Baraka said. “Seeing as how the two of you spend so much time together, Yasmine may as well teach you. She’s quite the accomplished poker player. Maybe it will keep her out of the city and safe behind the walls of comfort I’ve built for her, eh?”
Yasmine’s mouth dropped as she realized that her father knew about the attempted kidnapping. “Father, I . . .”
Baraka raised his hand to silence her and turned his attention to Carter. “I appreciate you taking care of her and bringing her back unharmed. For that, I owe you a debt. We can discuss more this evening. It seems you are a good man to have around. Just like your father,” he said. He shook Carter’s hand and gave him a pat on the back before walking away.
“How did he know?” Carter asked.
“He runs this town. He knows everything,” she shot back. “And everyone worth knowing. The card game is important. Dignitaries, kingpins, investors . . . very powerful men come to my father’s monthly game.”
Carter licked his lips and replied, “Then you better show me what you got ma.”
I’ll show you all right, she thought. While Carter was trying to learn the game, Yasmine was trying to learn him. She loved being in his presence and the more time she monopolized of his, the more she wanted him for herself. Forget his girlfriend. He is here and she is all the way there. Its not like she is his wife, Yasmine thought. By the time I’m done with him, he won’t remember her name.
Yasmine had a poker table set up in her suite and dismissed the dealer so that she could teach Carter one on one. After hours of drinking and lessons she finally said, “I don’t think there is anything more for you to learn. You’re kind of horrible at this.” She laughed and he shook his head in amusement.
“You know you are the only person who I’ve let laugh at me in years. You know that right?” he replied with an embarrassed smile.
“Oh, well perhaps you have soft spot for me in there after all,” she concluded.
“Perhaps,” he whispered back as he lifted the glass of cognac to his lips.
She came from behind the table and said, “Don’t worry. Poker is all about the bluff anyway and you are very good at that.”
“I don’t bluff ma,” he shot back.
“You most certainly do,” she replied. “You’ve been telling yourself that there is nothing between us since the day you met me. That’s the biggest bluff of all.”
He eyed her as he stood, challenging her words as he moved closer to her, invading her space. “You’re very good at bluffing but you can stop now.” She leaned in and kissed his full lips and it felt so good that her legs buckled slightly. She creamed in her panties instantly as his strong hands lifted her off of the floor. She wrapped her legs around his body and pressed her pelvis into his manhood. It was big and bulging against the zipper to his designer slacks. The friction alone threatened to make her explode. He laid her across the poker table as he ripped open her blouse, popping every button until her voluptuous honey colored breasts were revealed.
“I can’t,” he said, tormented as he pulled away, but she wasn’t letting him get away this time.
“You can,” she whispered lustfully. “My pussy is so wet Carter. Stop bluffing.” She pulled her panties to the side and rubbed her blooming clit. It was swollen and he could swear that he could see it pulsating in desire. It was begging him to conquer her. “Nobody has to know Carter. I can be your little secret.”
Carter loved Miamor, but he was a man and the sight before him was too much to resist. He undid his belt and stepped out of his pants quickly. She wanted it. She had been begging him for the dick since he had arrived. She was a beautiful girl. He had to. Carter couldn’t stop himself as he slid into her wetness.
“Oh shit. Damn ma,” he groaned as her walls formed around him like saran wrap. She threw the pussy up at him as if she were an all star pitcher and he knocked it out of the park every time. She smelled so sweet and felt so good that the remorse he felt was overshadowed by the pleasure. He hated to say it but this was the best he had ever had and she was willing to take it any way. The veins popped out of his manhood and she felt his girth as she moved her hips, bucking against him as he grinded. This was the type of sex she had craved. He was hitting her spot and commanding her body. She had known that he would make her go crazy and now that he was finally inside of her she was in complete bliss. She was sure that now that he had gotten a taste of her, he wouldn’t be able to stay away and eventually their lust would transform into a love that no average chick from Miami could compete with. What Yasmine didn’t realize was that Miamor wasn’t an average chick. While Yasmine was relying on sex to keep Carter’s interest, Miamor was putting in work to prove that she was the only woman in the world who could ever truly hold him down.
Carter didn’t fare well at poker. He lost $75,000 in the course of an evening but it was the price to pay to get into a room full of prestigious men. The table of ten ranged from a Saudi prince to an oil tycoon to a Wall Street banker from New York City. He was the only dope boy in the room and it worked to his advantage. By the time the games were over he had made connections with those whom he felt would be useful and had exchanged contact information with those whom felt he could be useful to them. Baraka was impressed and as they exited the private playing room he said, “Once your legal affairs are in order, we should do business. I don’t make many trips to the states anymore. My wives aren’t fond of the long trip, but I want to expand my casino into the Nevada market.”
“Las Vegas,” Carter said.
“Yes, I’ll need a partner. In fact, I just want to invest and see a return. I’ve seen the way that you handle the dealers, your wait staff,” he paused and looked Carter square in the eye before he added, “my daughter. She listens to no one but she minds you. If you two weren’t worlds apart and your line of work wasn’t so dangerous I would find you quite suitable for my Yasmine.”
“She’s a lovely girl Baraka, but it’s not rocking like that between us,” he replied. “I don’t like to create potential conflict in business and your backing is something that I highly value. Nevada could be a great look for The Cartel.”
“I can’t get in that market alone. Las Vegas is old mafia money, built up. I don’t have the muscle to fight my way in, but you do,” Baraka said. “Let’s table this discussion until you figure out your affairs with this government case. Just keep me in mind. When the time is right to make the transition, you have my support.”
With the shake of a hand the deal was solidified. All he had to do now was figure out how to get his neck out of the federal noose so that he could get to the money. Drug money was like peanuts in the scale of things. Owning a casino would legitimize him in a way that the streets never could. Not bad for a young nigga from Flint, MI. he thought. He adjusted his cufflinks and headed toward the elevator bank with a smirk on his face. Not bad at all.
Chapter 11
“Take the bass out of your fucking voice before I let you hear a tiny whisper that’ll leave you speechless.”
—Miamor
Daniel Broome rolled out of bed when the smell of fresh bacon frying hit him in the early morning hour. His bare chest was muscle-less and hairy, accompanied by a slim frame, and small waist. He wasn’t much of a man. But what he lacked in stature, he made up for in reputation. His tenacity and ambition had gained him an excellent conviction rate at work. He was the most fast tracked prosecuting attorney the region had seen in quite a while. He ran a hand through his messy hair and made his way out to the kitchen where his wife and young daughter were already seated around the table.
&
nbsp; “Morning honey,” he said as he gave her a soft swat on the behind and a kiss on the cheek. She never turned from the stove as she prepared breakfast.
“Mornin’,” she responded. “Breakfast will be done in a sec. There’s coffee in the pot.”
“I just need to grab the morning paper first,” he replied. He stepped out onto his porch and retrieved the Miami Herald. Wandering back into the house, he grabbed the hot cup of brew that his lovely wife now had waiting at his seat.
“Morning daddy,” his daughter piped, finally looking up from her coloring project.
“Morning sunshine,” he answered. Making himself comfortable, he unrolled his paper and took a sip of the brew.
Before he could even dive into the reporting he frowned as a photo fell from within the pages. He gasped when he saw an image of himself handing money to Timmy “Two Time” Bono.
“Is everything okay?” his wife asked as she turned briefly from her cooking.
“Uh . . . yeah,” he stammered as he quickly stood and grabbed the picture. “Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. Look I’m going to head in early for the office. I’ve got a heavy case load today,” he lied, eager to get out of the house. He rushed back to the bedroom with the newspaper and photo in hand. “Fuck!” he cursed. He tossed the paper on his bed and noticed a bet slip from the horse race. He picked it up. On it in big bold letters he read the words . . .
GOTCHA!
Thoughts ran through his mind a mile a minute as he fumbled with his clothing. He didn’t even bother washing off yesterday’s stink before dressing and rushing out of the door. Before he could even reach his car a black sedan pulled up at his curb. He paused, his car key grasped between his thumb and pointer finger, as he diverted his attention to the vehicle.