Moose had committed himself to being the family man that Sasha had always wanted him to be, because her and their son were the most important things to him. A better life was what they deserved and he was going to give it to them.
He performed his last ‘hood-job’, as he called it, and was officially done. The payout that he got from that job put him over the amount he needed to buy into the trucking business that his uncle was selling. There was already established clientele, so he was already on his way.
“I’m really proud of you, Lionel,” Sasha said, from across the table. “You said that you would turn it all around for us and you did. I’m happy.” She smiled at him, then took a sip of her Moscato. “How does it feel?” she asked. “Going legit, and all.”
“It’s good, girl. You don’t even know. I’m glad you put ya foot down because that’s what I needed. I swore those streets were all the family I needed. I know better now.”
“I’m glad. I didn’t even know that you were looking at having a business. You skipped all the way over having a regular job, huh?”
“Shit, that’s because ain’t nothin’ regular about me, or the life I want for us. Workin’ a job wasn’t even something I thought about. Fuck clockin’ into somewhere makin’ another muthafucka rich. It’s all about transferrable wealth. I’m at that, baby. We at that.” Moose picked up the last piece of his steak with his fork and held it in front of him. “We’re up here eatin’ $62 steaks, and drinkin’ $28 glasses of fancy wine to wash it all down with.”
“I could’ve made this at the house for us, though, babe. I mean, I’m loving that we can afford this type of stuff, but I think we need to focus on a new house and maybe a car, and not do so much splurging outside of that. Just go slow at first, you know?”
“I know what you mean. I got you. Don’t worry. I just wanted to do this to get a chance for us to talk about moving forward. I just want us all together. Be a father, be an almost-husband.” He smiled. “You know? All that stuff.”
“I know . . .” she gushed.
“The sooner the better.”
Sasha pushed her chair back and rose from her seat. She walked over to Moose and leaned down to kiss him on the lips. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “Gotta go tinkle.”
“Tinkle?” he laughed.
“Yeah, that. Be right back.”
Moose watched Sasha’s thick frame, as she walked off, thinking how he couldn’t wait to tap that all night, once they left.
“Will you be needing any containers, sir?” the waiter asked, appearing suddenly.
Moose chuckled at having been caught admiring his girl. “Nah, man. Do it look like we need containers?” he charged, sarcastically. “Ain’t shit left to take.”
“It’s shit left to take, alright . . .”
Moose’s eyes bucked, as realization set in. However, he wasn’t quick enough to react.
“. . . Yo’ life, muthafucka . . .”
The moment Moose looked into the assailant’s eyes, he knew exactly what the situation was. He should’ve known seconds before it registered, but he was too caught off guard. The first gunshot pierced through Moose’s chest, with enough impact to knock him from the chair. As he fell, and made efforts to shield himself, utter chaos ensued. Some patrons ran from the restaurant, and some ducked for cover.
The second gunshot was the deadliest of the two, blowing a large hole through the front of Moose’s forehead.
CHAPTER 53
Detective Ralph Knight
It was a welcomed evening off from work. Taking time from work wasn’t a part of the norm for him, because his face was always buried in a case. It was just what he needed, too. The music coming from the live jazz band was soothing, and the ambiance of Skates on the Bay, was always something to get lost in. Especially, with the right person. Sandra, Ralph’s longtime girlfriend, was the right person. He loved her deeply, and was ready to commit. Not yet with a ring, but maybe with an exchange of keys.
“I wanna dance, Ralphie,” she told him, after taking a sip of her Appletini. “Take me to the floor, lover,” she cooed. “For some cardio foreplay.”
Ralph was listening to Sandra, all the way up until the point that he had spotted Chanel Norwood in the distance. He noticed her right away, and hadn’t been able to look away since. He’d thought Chanel was beautiful the first time he’d met her at her fiancée’s home. But tonight, she looked even hotter. The red dress hugged her like it never wanted to leave her side. The smooth, brown skin looked as though it had been kissed by the milk chocolate gods.
He was captivated by her and felt ashamed of himself for it. Why be infatuated with a woman who was obviously loose as untied shoestrings? Not to mention, by all accounts, she liked high-profile guys. First, the boxer, who he thought was her fiancée. And now, this flashy dude that she was with tonight.
Why the hell do you even care?! he inwardly battled himself.
But he couldn’t help it. There was something about her that wouldn’t let him take his eyes off of her. Chanel. The name fit her. It rolled off the tongue so easily. He found himself . . . a particular part of himself . . . reacting to her. That was when he knew that he had to reel it in. Quick, fast, and in a hurry.
A rapid succession of finger snaps let him know he was too late to reel in anything.
“You’re not fucking serious, Ralph!” Sandra snapped, loudly, and without regard to their surroundings.
Ralph jerked his head toward her, having been caught. He was met immediately with ocean blue daggers, boring into his soul.
“What?” he rebounded, defensively, knowing full well that he had no defense at all.
“Do not insult my intelligence,” she charged. “Tú piensas que soy estúpido?!” she yelled, her voice trembling with anger. “Because I’m far from stupid!” She stood up and pushed her chair back, in dramatic fashion, causing other patrons to look their way. “Do not even think about calling my phone!”
Not one for the extras, especially in public, Ralph chose to remain both, quiet and in his seat. There was no way that he’d allow himself to get riled up in front of so many people. That just wasn’t his thing. Luckily, for him, the two of them had taken separate cars.
Sometime later, Ralph watched as Chanel’s companion signaled to her, and then rose from the table. He left, presumably, to take a call, since his cell was affixed to his ear, upon his departure.
Ralph watched for a few more minutes, before finally deciding that enough was enough. He was seriously beginning to feel like a stalker, and getting out of there as quickly as he could, was what needed to happen. He’d already fucked up things with Sandra because he couldn’t control his urge to look where he shouldn’t have. Now, he’d not only have to go without sex tonight, he would have to live with the fact that it all happened over a situation that he had full control over.
Right on time, the hostess appeared with the check and sat it before him. “Will that be all tonight, sir?” she asked, smiling big enough to show all 32 of her adult teeth.
“That’s it. Thanks,” Ralph told her, picking the leather pouch up to observe the receipt for accuracy.
“Okay, well, it was a pleasure serving you. I’ll be back for your check, whenever you’re ready.”
“Cool,” he responded, without looking up.
When she walked away, Ralph slid the pen from its sleeve and began to sign on the dotted line. Although he knew that there would be no text message from Sandra, with hope, he pulled out his phone to check anyway.
“Did you piss your girl off just so you could get me alone?” he heard.
Ralph looked up to see Chanel, standing in front of him, looking stunning. Being able to see the dress up close, her curves up close, and her face up close, had him mesmerized . . . again.
What the fuck, man? You don’t even know her. Have never touched her. Have only ever shared a damn living room space with her.
Why the fuck did she have an effect on him? He didn’t know, but he sure a
s hell didn’t like it either.
“I don’t go around pissing people off on purpose,” he said, from where he sat.
She took a seat across from him and asked, “So, was I imagining you staring at me? Was I imagining you suddenly, trying, to shift your focus when she cussed you out in Spanish?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.
“Of course, you do,” she said, confidently, a knowing smile affixed to her face. “You men are so easy to read. Just like you were the night you came to the house. I read you then.”
“What are you doing ‘reading’ anybody in that way, when you have a man . . . or should I say, men?”
She stood from her seat and hovered over him. “You’re so cute, Detective. There’s nothing wrong with having a meal with a friend. Your infatuation has you—”
“There’s no infatuation,” he quickly stated, eager to correct her assumption.
She shook her head, slowly, then walked to where he sat and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. “I’m just as unconvinced as your girlfriend,” she said, right before making her exit.
Ralph was speechless. She’d called him out, and he was stunned at how conceited she was, while doing it. At the end of it all, what he suspected about her had been confirmed—she was every bit the firecracker.
It took him several minutes to regroup. And as soon as he was able to get up, without being ashamed of the fluctuating tent in front of his pants, he quickly exited the restaurant, and headed home to an ice-cold shower.
CHAPTER 54
Rochelle
“Hey, you . . .” Dex said, wrapping Rochelle into his arms. “Told you I’d be right back.”
“I missed you,” she offered up.
“I’m here now,” he said. “Had a phone call to take.”
He looked Rochelle in her eyes, smiled, and then affectionately rubbed the side of her face. Rochelle was well aware that in just a little bit of time, he was slowly falling for her. Even though tonight was only their third date, they had managed to squeeze in several, long phone conversations, and had exchanged more than a few text messages—day and night.
With each interaction, she made sure to cover a good amount of ground. Things that would keep her at the front of his mind. Telling him her embellished version of being a tortured, and misunderstood soul. All the things that men in his position loved hearing. They liked the flawed, the broken. They needed to feel needed. They needed to feel that they’d come at the right time to save the day. So, that’s what he got from Rochelle.
By the end of their first date, he was telling her that he would right any wrongs done in her life. That, “I’ll send that shit so far to the back of your mind, you won’t ever know it was ever even there . . .”
Getting men to where she wanted them was one of her claims to fame. She loved securing a place in the heart of a man otherwise unattainable. For some reason, Rochelle just couldn’t keep them. But it didn’t matter to her, though. She liked variety, so getting hung up on one guy wasn’t something she had time to do, anyway. Nevertheless, she did have to admit that Dex had charisma. He also had mystery about him that intrigued her. A huge part of that mystery, was him having her sister locked up and tucked away somewhere.
Though she and Chanel weren’t close, Rochelle truly loved her sister. Maybe not in the way that sisters should love each other—in an unconditional way—but it was there. If for no other reason than she had raised her son. It certainly wasn’t something that Rochelle could’ve ever done; so, Chanel having done that and so wonderfully, made Rochelle have a deep appreciation for her. Besides, she would never want for Rai to be raised without the woman that he loved more than anything in the world. She had never seen anything like their relationship. The bond was so close, it was like Chanel had dropped Rai from inside of her own fucking body.
“These hands are so soft,” she cooed, her eyes closing at his touch.
He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “You the one that’s soft, lil’ mama. That’s all you.”
“Smooth-talker.” She smiled at him. “It’d be nice if I got to feel them on my body tonight. You’ve been too much of a gentleman.” She quieted and waited for him to say something on the heels of her comment. When he didn’t, she coyly asked, “Where are we off to? Because I wanna be wherever you’re gonna be.”
“I like the sound of that,” he commented.
He released her from his arms, and together, they walked to where the valet had just pulled up with Dex’s Jaguar.
“Who was that you were talking to back there?” he asked Rochelle, as they were pulling away from the curb. “Seemed familiar to you.”
For an instant, she was confused, but then recalled her recent conversation. “Oh, he’s actually my friend’s boyfriend,” she fibbed.
“So, you knew the woman he was just arguing with? The one who stormed out?”
“Look at you,” she said, stroking the side of his cheek. “So observant. I didn’t even know you saw that.”
“Oh, baby. I see everything. So, she was a friend of yours?”
“No, not her. His actual girlfriend. Who was not that girl.”
“Oooh, I see. Y’all women stick together.” Dex laughed. “He knew you were goin’ to snitch him out, huh?”
“I guess he did,” she beamed. “I can’t stand a liar.”
She could feel Dex looking at her. She wondered if he was buying what she was selling. She couldn’t believe that with each word, the lie grew bigger and bigger. And that she even began to believe it all herself.
“You should probably leave that man's business to him to handle. Let him do what he needs to do. He might even tell her. Wait to see if that happens.”
“You’re so persuasive, Dex Jackson. I can already see that you would be able to keep me on track. One word from you, and I’m like putty in your hands.”
After half an hour, they pulled into the parking garage of a large condominium complex in the hills of Oakland. Rochelle reached for the handle to let herself out, but Dex softly grabbed her wrist, before she could open the door. “Hold on,” he said.
Rochelle turned to look at him, smiling. “Uh-oh. We got business in the car first?” she asked, flirtatiously, while releasing the handle.
“We do. But not the kind you think,” he stated, cryptically.
“Hmmm, well, the kind of business I thought we were gonna have involved getting a little freaky in your ride before we went into the house.”
“Yeah, I figured that’s where your head was. But nah.”
Rochelle pouted and folded her arms across her chest, before facing forward.
“So, what’s going on, then?” she asked, slightly nervous, but doing all she could to conceal that fact. She cut her eyes to the right, slightly, to look through the car’s side mirror. She hoped that when they pulled in, her backup managed to find a way in as well. Especially, since it was gated. “What is it that you had in mind?”
“A little Q&A . . .”
“Q&A?” Rochelle rolled her neck in his direction. “Say what, now?”
“What is it that you do, exactly?”
“Dexxx . . .” she whined, releasing a soft puff of air, and then laying her head back against the softness of the headrest. “Don’t you think we’ve talked enough, baby?”
“Not really,” he said. “Humor me. I mean, I love a woman that’s available whenever I need her to be. But you . . . you seem to be available all the time. When I call, you answer right away. When I want to go out, you’re right there—ready.”
Rochelle tilted her head to the side, smiling, seductively, at Dex. “Baby, is that all? You’re all of a sudden doubting me because I’m available to you whenever you call?” She put her hand to her chest and rolled her neck, playfully. “I thought I was being a good girlfriend-in-training. You mean, I’ve been going about things wrong the whole time? Was I supposed to play hard to get? Was I supposed to let your calls go to voicemail and wait a few hours to ca
ll you back? Was I supposed to turn you down when you offered to take me to dinner? I mean. What am I missing?”
“No, what am I missing? What’s keeping you from just answering the question? It’s simple enough. Right? Just tell me what it is that you do,” Dex requested, once again.
Rochelle’s heart was beating, her neck muscles were tightening. Was she reading too much into this? Or did she have a reason to be on edge? Was her backup there, in case things began to slide left? Or was she on her own. She wanted to turn around so badly, but couldn’t afford to blow her cover. She realized that falling in line with the questioning was best. That way, they could get out the car and into the house, where she needed him to be.
“I’m in between gigs right now.” Then, she put on the drama and lowered her head, and released a pouty sigh. “I didn’t want to tell you that because I didn’t want you thinking I was some kind of scrub, or do-nothing. Since I just got back to the Bay Area, I kind of have to find my way around a bit and find a niche. I’ve been on a few of the job sites: Indeed, LinkedIn, and Zip Recruiter. Also been doing a bit of networking, so I should be—”
“What do you do? And what do you mean you just got back to the Bay Area? Where are you from?”
Something’s up, Rochelle thought to herself. All the conversations they’d had. The time spent on dates . . . none of this stuff ever came up! She just figured that he didn’t care, so it helped that it was never approached. But now! What the hell?!
“Dang!” she chuckled, trying her best to maintain her composure. “Slow down, sir. Let me get your answers together. I do administrative work,” she lied. “I support executive-level people doing secretarial work and things like that. And I came out from Atlanta. That’s where I’m from, for the most part. Just like it a little better than Cali . . .”
“Yet, here you are.” Dex nodded, then reached over the divider and placed his hand over Rochelle’s thigh, squeezing lightly. “You in Cali to stay? Or you going back to the ATL?”
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