Black Widow

by Nikki Turner

  “I got you, Sweets, but I need to go make sure everything is straight with this boat that I just bought.”

  “That wasn’t the deal,” Isis reminded him. “I know I sprung everything on you last minute, and the last thing I want to do is inconvenience you, so all you have to do is drop me at my hotel and give me the name and number of the lawyer and I can take it from there.”

  “Listen, Sweets, ain’t no need for all that. I got the best lawyer in the state on my payroll, and he’s in the process of taking care of the business as we speak.” Lootchee’s words poured out like syrup. “Just relax. Your sister will be out by five p.m., and afterward, I’m treating the both of you to the best damn celebration steak Texas has to offer.”

  Isis had to give it to him, the man didn’t lack confidence. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything, Sweets.”

  “Why do they call you Lootchee?”

  “Well, the plain and simple version is,” he started, “back in the ’80’s Lootchee used to be slang for money, and that’s what I am—pure dee money. So the name stuck.”

  Isis thought that they were balling at the carwash, but the Boat Showplace was off the meter.

  Lootchee had bought a beautiful thirty-footer with all the amenities. The fact that he never piloted a boat before didn’t slow him down. In his eyes this was $50,000 of well-spent money. You only lived once.

  Lootchee, the owner of the store, and Isis were all on their way to check out the boat when she spotted a stunning sixty-foot yacht. Isis pointed. “I hope that’s the one you bought,” she smiled. “It’s beautiful.” Isis walked around the boat, admiring it.

  Rick, the owner of the store, smirked when he heard Lootchee say, “That’s why I came back today, because I wanted to see if this one had come in.” When they went aboard to take a closer look, Lootchee lagged behind with Rick and asked, “How much for this one?”

  Rick smiled. “Three hundred and fifteen thousand. Your wife has wonderful taste.”

  Not bothering to correct Rick’s wrong assumption that Isis was his wife, Lootchee did the math on the difference in the prices of the two boats quickly in his head. “Yes, she does. So it’s mine for another hundred and sixty-five thou’ then?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Fonzworth, but the other yacht that you purchased was custom-ordered. I can’t take it back,” Rick explained.

  “There’s no such thing as a man that can’t do something, now is it?” Lootchee wasn’t really asking a question. He was making a statement.

  “I’ll tell you what I can do,” Rick said. “If you don’t want the other one, I can buy it back from you for seventy-five thousand.”

  “Man, you know I am a businessman. You gotta do better than that.”

  “Well, you could leave the boat here and resell it for a ten to fifteen percent commission?” he said, not wanting to rub Lootchee the wrong way. Lord knows he wanted the sale of the boat.

  Lootchee thought for a minute, looking from one boat to the next. Finally he said, “Deal.” The two men shook on it. “Sweets!” Lootchee called out to Isis. “We gotta go. I need to make a run.”

  Great, Isis thought, throwing her hands up. “Where to now?”

  “I gotta go to the bank to get another cashier check for $315,000 to buy this here vessel. We in Texas for gud-dam’it—if it ain’t big, it ain’t right,” Lootchee boasted as he winked at Isis.

  Isis smiled and shook her head as she made her way toward the exit of the boat. This dude really did feel as though he was a king and deserved only the best.

  Lootchee was determined to impress her. The boat was just another thing, but the beauty that Isis possessed was priceless.

  “Rick,” Lootchee said before the two of them exited the boat, “being you like my wife’s taste so much, you probably would like to do some business with her. Especially since she’s the reason you just got such a big sale.”

  “What type of work does she do?” Rick inquired.

  “She’s the best damn jewelry designer on the east coast, North and South Peninsula, and I’m sure she could make something real nice for your wife that won’t run you much more than thirty-five thou’. Your wife does like jewelry, doesn’t she? I mean, what woman doesn’t?”

  Isis turned and faced the men after hearing the word jewelry.

  “I was just telling Rick here that you design jewelry,” Lootchee said to Isis.

  “Oh, yeah,” Isis said, “that’s what I do. Designed this one myself.” She held up her hand.

  Rick couldn’t miss the rock that Isis was wearing on her ring finger even if he was blind—and he wasn’t—so he saw exactly where Lootchee was going with this. “I would be honored to purchase something for my wife,” he said. Fair exchange ain’t no robbery, he thought. “Do you have a business card?”

  “I sure do.” Isis opened her rhinestone card case and passed him one.

  “Black Widow Jewels, huh?” Rick scratched his head. “I think I might have read something about you.”

  “The one and only.” She smiled.

  “May I have a few of the cards? I may have a few folks I can refer to you.”

  Isis obliged, handing the man a few more.

  “Make sure you use them.” Lootchee pointed to the cards as they headed to the bank. As soon as they got in the car, Lootchee’s cell phone rang. “Hello,” he said, taking the call.

  After Lootchee had been trying to woo Isis all afternoon, he finally made some headway when he got off the phone and said, “That was the lawyer. Your sister is out of jail.”

  Isis had never been so relieved in her life. She exhaled. “Could you please take me to get her?”

  “We’re on our way now.”

  On the way to the jail to pick up Phoebe, Lootchee finally engaged in a conversation that didn’t involve him. “What made you decide to be a jeweler? And why did you name your company Black Widow Jewels?”

  “Jewelry has always been a passion of mine,” she confided. “My mother and father always gave me a piece of jewelry for my birthday up until I was thirteen, and my mother had the most beautiful and interesting jewelry when I was young. It’s always intrigued me.”

  “But why Black Widow?”

  “Let’s just say I wanted to take something negative and make it positive.”

  Loochee was quiet for a minute. Then he spoke. “You sound like a scorned woman.”

  “Well, I have been.”

  “Then we have more in common than you know,” he said.

  She looked at him. “Don’t tell me you’re a scorned woman?” Isis joked.

  “No, not exactly,” he said. “I had an ex-girlfriend that I loved dearly. In return for my love, she cut me pretty deeply with a knife called betrayal. So you tell me, what does that make me?”

  Isis could see the anger in his eyes when he spoke of his ex-girlfriend and didn’t like what she saw. “So you going to let me make a nice medallion or something for you?” She changed the subject to lessen the tension that had filled the car.

  “No, you can’t sell me a ring or something,” he said. “I want an entire set; maybe two.”

  “Well, tell me what you want and what your budget is and I’ll get it done.”

  “It ain’t no budget, Sweets. Knock yourself out. The Lootchee is endless.”

  I opened the door wide open for that one, she thought.

  “That’s what I’m talking about, playa playa! Do the damn thing!” She stroked his ego even more. And Lootchee liked how it felt.

  After arriving at the jail, both Lootchee and Isis were surprised when the guard informed them that Phoebe wasn’t there and had been released a half hour ago.

  “Then where is she?” Isis asked.

  “Little lady,” the guard said, “I don’t keep up wit ’em after we release ’em. Got enough to babysit as it is.”

  “She probably caught a cab to the airport or something, or is on foot somewhere. Since she hadn’t talked to you, she probably had no idea you wer
e in town and on your way to get her,” Lootchee added.

  Isis immediately tried to call her sister’s cell phone. She hoped the battery was still charged. The phone rang about six times and then she heard, “What up, sis?”

  “Hey, sister, you okay?” Isis said, relieved.

  “Yes, I am.” She sounded just as relieved. “Thanks for getting me out.”

  “You know that’s what we do for each other. Where are you?”

  “I just left from down there so I am up here taking care of a few things,” she said.

  “Up where?” Isis asked again.

  “I’m just trying to handle my business, that’s all.” Phoebe continued to be evasive, but the chiming of the grandfather clock in the background didn’t lie.

  “Tell me you’re not at that monster’s house. Matter of fact, don’t even lie to me. I’m on my way to get you.”

  “You in Texas?” Phoebe thought since the lawyer said that he was sent to get her out that Isis was still in Florida somewhere.

  “Of course I’m in Texas. You called me to come get you, didn’t you? So, I’m coming to get your ass.” Isis turned to Lootchee. “Put this address into your navigational system.” She reached for her little mini notebook and handed it over to Lootchee. “We have to go get my sister.”

  Lootchee followed orders. “No problem, Sweets.”

  Phoebe asked, “Who are you with?”

  “A friend of mine and we’ll be there in a few.”

  “Good. I got time to get my stuff together; that’s what I came here for anyway.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to leave that shit? That I would get you some new stuff?”

  “Yeah, but I got some nice shit. I can’t leave with nothing.”

  Isis couldn’t believe her ears. “Listen, you are leaving with your life and your freedom. It could be so much worse, but I am not trying to lecture you. I know how that shit feels. But anyway, I will be there in a few minutes.” She hung up the phone and breathed hard. “I can’t believe she done went back over to that nigga’s house.”

  When Isis pulled up to Randy Vanz’s house, police were all over the property. As they got closer, Isis saw her sister being escorted to a police cruiser in handcuffs.

  “You are having me locked up because I don’t want your steroid-taking, little dick behind anymore?” Phoebe screamed at Randy. “This is what you do to me because I won’t let you whip my ass?”

  Isis got out of the car and ran over to the police car. “Please let me speak to my sister. I promise, I will only be a second.”

  Seeing the desperation in Isis’s eyes, the officer agreed. “You got one minute, ma’am,” he told her.

  “Thank you, officer,” Isis said anxiously, making her way to Phoebe. “What happened, Phoebe?”

  “I only wanted to get my things and leave.” Phoebe had tears in her eyes. “And this motherfucker told me that I had to abide by his rules and be taught a lesson. I just said fuck the shit; left everything and went to the gate to wait on you. Next thing I know the police are arresting me for trespassing and some more shit he made up.”

  “Time is up, ma’am,” the officer interrupted.

  “Sister, don’t worry I will figure something out,” Isis assured her.

  Isis wanted to talk with that no-good ass Randy, but with so much commotion, he managed to stay clear. She did get his number from Phoebe and she would try to call him later and convince him to put an end to this madness.

  Once back in the car, Isis shared with Lootchee what Phoebe had told her.

  “We gotta come up with something to stop his crazy ass,” Isis said.

  Lootchee was already two steps ahead of her. “Sweets, I called the lawyer as soon as I saw your sister in the cuffs. He said it would be at least a day or two before he could do anything under the circumstances. He said it may prove to be to our advantage if I could talk to Mr. Vanz man-to-man about dropping the charges and letting bygones be bygones.

  “That would be wonderful if you could make that happen.”

  “I’ll do all I can do, and that’s a lot. But there isn’t much more we can do right now. So I suggest that we go to dinner; get a clear head and a full stomach to boot.”

  “Thank you, Larry, that’ll be cool, but first I’m going to need to be dropped off at the hotel so I can change my clothes.”

  “I don’t live too far from here,” Lootchee said. “I have an extra room. Actually, I have a guest house,” he bragged. “You could change there since we’ve got a reservation, and we’re pressed for time and your bags are still in the trunk.”

  She hesitated, not wanting to give Lootchee the wrong impression nor put herself in a vulnerable situation. “I would much rather stay alone.”

  Lootchee shrugged his shoulders, taking no offense. “Either way is cool with me. It’s just that I have more than enough room,” he said. “I tell you what. Being that we are so close to my house, you can go ahead and just change there, then after we eat, we can get you a room if that’s still what you want. How does that sound?”

  Isis agreed to his terms and they were parked in his driveway within ten minutes. “You live here alone?” she asked after seeing the size of his home. Lootchee’s house resembled something off of MTV’s Cribs.

  “Well, my security guard, Max, stays here, but he really doesn’t count. My sister was house-sitting for me while I lived in South America. She’s supposed to be finding a place of her own, but she keeps telling me that it’s hard to live here and then turn around and go live in some apartment.”

  “I know that’s right,” Isis agreed, still looking over the place, which looked like a palace fit for a king.

  Lootchee offered to take Isis on the grand tour before getting changed, and she accepted. They were walking room to room when he said, “I must admit, I’d probably have a hard time staying in an apartment after living in this place too, but I told my sister, there isn’t anything like having your own. She’s cool though. She stays out of my way, and one of the good things is, that she keeps things going for me; it doesn’t matter if I’m here or away. I don’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to her. That’s why even though I’m back and she seems to be procrastinating about finding her own place, I don’t pressure her to move out.

  “So, shall we head toward where you’ll be changing?” Once again Lootchee held his elbow up for Isis to latch onto as he led her toward the guest house.

  He called the suite that she would be using to wash up and get dressed the master guest quarters. There was a sitting area toward the back of the bedroom that was set up like an entertainment room. The third adjoining room, which was much smaller than the other two, had a full-size refrigerator stocked with beer, juice, and sodas and a little cabinet with chips and snacks.

  Lootchee left Isis to handle her business as he went to do the same. The only thing about the suite that wasn’t to her liking was the ceiling fan, which was set on high speed. It had been annoying her ever since she had gotten out of the shower. She had to get dressed in the sitting area to keep from getting goose bumps. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out how to cut it off.

  It was almost like Lootchee could read her mind the way he appeared at the door, but like most men, he was late when he said, “Is it too cold in here? I can turn down the air.”

  “No. But I wish you would’ve come and turned that ceiling fan off before I got wet. I hate those things blowing on me,” she said. “My husband and I used to debate all the time about whether to turn it on or leave it off. My husband loves it.”

  “So do I,” Lootchee said, not really interested in hearing about her husband. Then he asked, “Do you mind if I share something with you?”

  “No, I don’t mind at all.”

  Lootchee cleared his throat and interlocked his fingers forming a steeple, then said, “You remind me a lot of my ex-girlfriend.”

  “How so?” she asked, remembering the look in his eyes earlier when he was talking about her betray
al.

  “She was from Virginia too. But not only that, she was so radiant, filled with energy and confidence just like you are.”

  “Well, thank you. I guess I can take it as a compliment then,” she said with an unsure smile on her face. “But if she was so great, then why is she your ex?”

  “It’s kinda complicated. I made a wrong assumption. I thought since I was down for her that she would be down for me, but she wasn’t. Instead, like I told you before, she took me for a lot of money, lied and betrayed me in the worst way.”

  Isis’s heart went out to him. She knew exactly what it felt like to be betrayed and lied to. “I am so sorry that happened to you.”

  “Don’t be. It only made a better man out of me for real. As a result, I traveled across South America, made some major contacts, and put together one of the best business situations I could ever be in.”

  “You know what? I felt like that when I was with one of my ex’s. He did some pretty mean things to me, things that I don’t even care to elaborate on, but at the end of the day, I prevailed.”

  “I feel you,” Lootchee said, “probably more than you will ever know.”

  “For a long time,” she continued, “I thought that I had some kind of black cloud over my head when it came to men, but things have a way of working themselves out. There’s a reason for everything.”

  “You are so right,” Lootchee said with a smile, thinking Isis was the match that he’d been waiting for. “I see so much of me in you. I think we should get to know each other better.”

  “Lootchee, I speak for many women when I say that I think that you are a really great guy. You are a really good catch. You have class, style, and swagger that won’t quit. Plus, you’re business minded and seem to really be financially stable. You’re definitely a catch.”

  “I’m not trying to be a catch for any ol’ woman. I want you. And make no mistake about it: I always gets whatever I wants.” He smiled, meaning every word.

  “Lootchee, I am married, and I love my husband with all my heart.”

  “But does he love you? If he does, how come he hasn’t called you all day?” Lootchee boldly asked. “If he was really concerned, he would’ve checked on you by now. Or even came with you, for that matter.”