She noticed two naked female swimmers in the pool. She laughed to herself, thinking about the movie Scarface. She thought, This is some Tony Montana shit for real.
The two armed men standing in the living room were watching Kola carefully, but she knew she wasn’t a threat to them. Though unarmed, she hid her uneasiness well. All she wanted was to talk to Eddie face to face, strike up a new deal, and walk out alive.
A few minutes later, a very well-dressed man clothed in a dark-blue three-button Giorgio Armani suit with thin lapels walked out of a back room, a burning cigar clutched between his fingers. He had the look of a Fortune 500 businessman/crime boss.
Kola stared at him in awe. Tall, well-built, with full lips and a pencil-thin goatee, he was gorgeous. He had dark, curly black hair, enticing hazel eyes, and his skin was the color of honey.
Flanked by two men, Eddie walked toward Kola with an imposing stride, never taking his eyes off her. He took a puff from the Cuban cigar he was smoking then said to her, “You asked for me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m Kola.”
“I know your name, but why are you here? And it better be good. You with Cross?”
“I’m his lady.”
“And what’s the purpose of him sending his woman to do business with me? I find this very disrespectful.”
“I come with respect, Eduardo,” Kola replied.
“Where is Cross?”
“Unfortunately, he couldn’t make it, so he sent me.”
“And why’s this? And I warn you now—I don’t like being lied to.”
“He’s locked up for the moment.”
The news didn’t sit too well with Eduardo.
He stared at Kola and asked, “For what charge?”
“Gun possession.”
“I see.”
Kola stood there with her heart feeling like it was on fire. She didn’t want to disrespect the man in any fashion, but she needed to be firm and state her business. “I came to do business with you instead,” she blurted out.
Eduardo looked at her. He was almost amused. “Business?”
“Yes,” Kola said.
Eduardo chuckled then took a pull from the cigar. “I don’t do business with women. I fuck them, they fuck me, but business is never good with a bitch.”
“I’m not your average bitch.”
He smiled and approached Kola closely. He took her chin into his hand and stared into her eyes.
Kola kept still. She hated the way he grabbed her, but she had no choice. He had the upper hand.
Eduardo looked at her closely and said, “Your eyes show the soul of a lion.”
“I’m more than just a bark,” she returned, showing no weakness.
Eduardo stared at Kola once more. Her eyes veered from him to the two naked young ladies exiting the large pool. They laughed to themselves as they donned their robes that had been hanging over two chairs.
Eduardo glanced at the women then looked at Kola and said, “One of the perks of being me. You like?”
“Cute.”
“It is. I have two girlfriends at home . . . sisters . . . two of the most beautiful women a man could ever have. They both live in my sprawling mansion in Colombia, and they both have a son by me.”
“Quite the playboy, huh?”
He smiled. “You care for a drink?”
“Would love one.” Kola followed Eduardo to the wet bar.
Eduardo continued puffing on the cigar while mixing a gin and tonic. He passed Kola her drink and offered her a seat. He couldn’t help but find Kola very interesting. He sat opposite her, and they continued their talk.
Eduardo boasted about his lifestyle, telling Kola about the life he lived. He found her very attractive and young. He talked about Colombia and its beautiful women. He told Kola that, with her beauty, she would easily fit in. He talked about the sisters/girlfriends more and the homes he had. Kola listened attentively, sipping her drink and trying to read him.
Kola thought that the large suite she was in was his home, but it was only his place of business. He also had the apartment next door and the one downstairs, and there were secret doors and passageways leading to both places in case there was a police raid or ambush.
Eduardo didn’t care for the place in Jersey City. To him, New Jersey and New York were below his standards, and the weather was too cold. Still, his business was good in the States, and Harlem became a very profitable place for his product.
Eduardo doused his cigar in the ashtray and fixed his eyes on Kola. “Speak your business to me.”
Kola locked eyes with the man, her legs crossed, the duffel bag near her feet. “My man has been doing business with you for a long time now, and unfortunately, he’s in a situation that prevents him from being here at the moment. So I’m here in his place.”
Eduardo took a sip from his glass and listened, his henchmen nearby and ready for anything.
Kola continued. “We’ve been buying from you at fifteen stacks a ki and moving plenty of supply for you. But I’m here with a business proposition for you.”
The look on Eduardo’s face already told Kola that her business with him better be good or she might not walk out alive.
“I’m suggesting you give me ten ki’s for twelve-five a ki, and as you know, I came prepared.”
Eduardo laughed a creepy, menacing laugh, intimidating Kola.
She kept her stern expression and pushed the duffel bag toward him.
“You come with laughs, little girl,” he said.
“Just open it.”
Eduardo unzipped the bag and looked in. “Lots of money for such a young girl.”
“I’m a businesswoman,” she countered.
Eduardo laughed again. When he was finished laughing, he took a sip from his glass before saying to her, “Our business arrangement stays the same—fifteen thousand a ki and nothing less. What makes you think you can come in here and change it? You disrespect me. You think flaunting your tits and body will influence me?”
“Of course, I mean you no disrespect, Eduardo. But the situation has changed in the streets. As you may be aware, we’re at war with Chico, and with the prices he has from the Haitians, his business is cutting into our business, causing our profits to decline somewhat. I ask for that number for the ki’s because I can guarantee you that Cross and myself can move these ten ki’s in a much shorter time, producing a quicker turnaround and ridding ourselves of the competition.
“We all know that, when it comes to quality, the Haitians can’t fuck with you. And the Haitians are a problem for the both of us. We move six ki’s every seven days for you. Well, at the price I’m asking, we can increase that number and get back some of our old customers.”
Kola knew she had Eduardo’s attention. He was silent, contemplating the idea. Kola just waited for an answer. He took another sip as he dwelled on the thought. Kola’s heart beat rapidly, and the palms of her hands were clammy.
Eduardo got out of his seat and walked closer to Kola. He circled her slowly, sipping on his drink and admiring every aspect of her. “I like you. You have courage and smarts. I respect that.”
He stopped in front of Kola and looked at her intimately, touching her in a way that made her somewhat uncomfortable. However, she didn’t flinch. He was a handsome man and also a powerful man.
He lingered on his reply for a moment and finally said to Kola, “Cross is a very lucky man to have you in his life. Me, personally, I’m a sexist. I believe women belong in the kitchen or on their backs making babies, and I feel slightly insulted that he sent you in his place. But I know a good business sense when I see one. I’ll give you the ki’s for twelve-five, but only on these conditions.”
Kola held her excitement, knowing she wasn’t out the flood yet. She sat still and listened to his conditions, hoping they were reasonable.
“From here on out, I deal with you and only you. You make Cross understand that. His sudden incarceration is a pro
blem for me. His stupidity is an issue for me,” Eduardo explained slowly.
Kola nodded.
“And then you will have to move twelve ki’s within seven days, not ten.”
“Twelve?” Kola asked.
“Will that be a problem?”
“No, it won’t. I only brought enough for ten, though.”
“I’ll front you the two. But you move these twelve ki’s for me at the price you ask within the reasonable time period that we agree on. Understand?”
“That’s kind of pushing it,” Kola explained. “I can do fourteen days.”
“These are my terms, not yours. No negotiations.”
Kola nodded.
“And if there’s a problem with this new arrangement on your end, then there will be repercussions, starting with the price going back up to eighteen-five a ki for my aggravation. And any further problems . . . well, let’s just say, I don’t like problems.”
“There won’t be any problems.”
“I just hope so.”
If Kola wanted to come play with the big boys and step into his territory to make deals with him, then he would give her a deal that she would never forget. But there was something about her that was alluring.
Eduardo lit up another Cuban cigar and continued talking to Kola. One of the girls from the pool walked over to Eduardo in a sheer robe and stilettos and began caressing him from behind as he was discussing business.
He told the woman, “Give me a minute, my love. I have to finish up here.”
She nodded and strutted off, leaving Eduardo to focus his attention back on Kola.
“We’re done here. You will have your shipment, and you will have all my money in seven days.”
One of Eduardo’s men exited out of a back room carrying a similar duffel bag to Kola’s and dropped it at her feet. She quickly unzipped it and saw the twelve kilos of cocaine, and the deal was made. Kola was on edge on so many levels, her legs felt like concrete, and her body felt like jelly.
She walked out of the building wondering how to tell Cross that she cut a different deal with his connect, and that she would be the one meeting with him from now on. Kola knew there was no easy way to tell Cross. He was going to flip, once he found out what she had gotten them into.
Chapter 4
Kola was so nervous, she hadn’t eaten anything since before her meeting with Eduardo. Her mind was on business, with her trying to add new clientele to her roster, and then she had to contact the bail bondsman for Cross and Edge. It was a busy morning for her. She stashed the kilos in a secure place and jumped back into her M-class Benz to hurry to the courthouse for Cross’ arraignment, her stomach in knots.
It was a chilly November day, and the early-morning traffic on the way to the court was thick, making Kola frustrated. She cursed and pressed down on the gas, zipping in and out of traffic and running through red lights. She missed her man and couldn’t wait to feel his strong arms wrapped around her. She wasn’t sure when to tell Cross about the new arrangement and was just hoping he didn’t get too mad and beat the shit out of her.
It was twenty minutes past nine when Kola finally found parking and hurried toward the criminal courthouse in downtown Manhattan. She ran into the building in her tight-fitting Seven jeans, pumpkin leather jacket, and five-inch heels. Seeing the line of people snaking around the corner, she had a long wait to get through the metal detector. She sighed. It’s going to be a long day.
It took Kola fifteen minutes to finally get through the metal detector, and the guards gave her a little hassle about the items in her purse. She curbed her attitude and bit her tongue, knowing they were only picking on her. She just wanted to hurry to see Cross.
She strutted down the long corridor searching for the right courtroom. The lobby of the courthouse on Centre Street was flooded with defense attorneys, prosecutors, legal aids, defendants, and police officers.
She had everything set up. The bondsman was in play, and she figured that Cross’ lawyer would already be in the courtroom ready to represent his client. He was on retainer for a substantial amount of money, and today he would be put to the test.
Even though she had the money to bail out Cross, they needed the bondsman because, if the judge posted a large bail, she didn’t want to be linked with the cash. Since she didn’t have a legit income, the courts would be suspicious about an eighteen-year-old having the money to bail out her drug-dealing boyfriend.
As she strutted down the hallway, looking older and more mature than her true age, she noticed the steady fleeting looks that came her way. There was more than a hint of fascination for the young teen. Some of the side looks were even coming from the prosecutors themselves. In fact, she had quite a few admirers from all walks of life.
Kola was sexy, and the way she carried herself was very appealing. Her admirers gazed at the long, defined legs stretched out in the high heels she wore and were fixated on the way her body curved in the jeans. But she wasn’t interested in anything but finding her boo and getting him released. She was focused on finding the courtroom her man was being arraigned in and showing him her full support.
She soon found it and walked into the room quietly, looking around at the concerned faces of girlfriends, mothers, grandmothers, and friends waiting for the docket number of their loved ones to be called by the bailiff and their cases to be reviewed by the judge.
Kola took a seat in the middle of the stale, semi-packed courtroom next to a worried mother with two young kids who was there trying to support her oldest son.
Kola let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She was the only one dressed with style in the room, and by the looks of things, she probably was the only one that didn’t have a court-appointed lawyer. The sea of poor and worried faces was a clear indication that money and a proper attorney for representation would be an issue. It wasn’t Kola’s business, though.
The mother sitting next to her looked like her son’s arraignment was only one of many issues that she had going on. Kola checked her out from the corner of her eye and knew the woman hadn’t seen a hot comb in ages. Her clothes looked secondhand, and her younger kids, the way they were acting, seemed to be following their brother’s footsteps.
Kola wasn’t ready to have kids anytime soon. She was a career woman and, with her sex parties and reluctantly taking control over Cross’ connect, having a family wasn’t in her plans. She shunned the young, single black women stupid enough to get pregnant without any support. The one good thing Kola learned from her mother was how to hustle and have a nigga trick on her. She wasn’t trying to become no one’s baby mama or get stuck with a kid whose father was long gone. Kola was high-maintenance, and her man had to be a real man to fuck with her. That’s why Cross was her ideal man.
Kola thought of better places to be than stuck in an out-of-date courtroom waiting for the long list of criminal cases to be processed. She sat through petty drug possession cases, misdemeanors, and disorderly conduct cases. It was a waste of her and the taxpayers’ time, she thought. The hours passed slowly, and Kola had to fight against nodding off. It was so tedious, she was ready to pull out her own hair for entertainment.
Noon arrived, and the judge called for everyone to take a lunch break. But food was the last thing on Kola’s mind. As the courtroom slowly cleared out, Kola remained seated in the pew trying to stay calm. The last one to exit the room, she went outside to smoke, like some of the others.
While taking a few pulls from her Newport, she rolled her eyes at some of the men steady gawking at her. And she constantly looked at the time.
The November wind pinched at her face with its hard gust, and the army of police, prosecutors, and district attorneys made her very nervous. She thought about her own fate and wondered when the day would come when she would find herself standing in front of a judge or jury.
She started chatting with a familiar face from the hood in front of the courts. Her friend Lateen, whom she had known since grade schoo
l, was in court for possession. If he couldn’t be found on the corners trying to get money, he would be most likely serving time in Rikers Island. Lateen was never a smart man, but Kola enjoyed his company from time to time. And he made her laugh, which was something she needed at the moment. As they both smoked cigarettes, Lateen started joking with her.
“Tight-ass prosecution tryin’ to charge me for a gram of crack and shit, knowing I seen that muthafucka on the block tryin’ to cop the other night,” Lateen stated.
“Uh-uh. Stop lying.”
“Shit, I’m serious. Nigga’s eyes red as shit right now. Tight-ass white boy gonna cop from me and then charge me. Pale-ass muthafucka high like a kite right now. You know the nigga gotta be high, wearing that tight-ass blue suit.”
“You silly, Lateen.”
Kola told him about Cross’ incident, and the two enjoyed a quick laugh. Then they walked back inside the courts. She readied herself for another long session of procedures, hearings, motions, and other boring bullshit. She moved to the back because the woman with the two kids was starting to get on her nerves.
Two hours later, Cross’ docket number was finally called.
“Docket numbers 448525685 and 449858954, Danny Thompson and Maurice Carter,” the court officer announced.
Kola perked up, her eyes fixed on the door the prisoners were coming through. Butterflies in her stomach, her eyes lit up with anticipation. It had been a little over forty-eight hours since she had received the phone call, and she didn’t get much sleep. Kola smiled upon seeing Cross escorted from the bullpen and into the courtroom, Edge right behind him, both men still in the clothes they had been arrested in.
Coca Kola - The Baddest Chick Page 3