by Joy
“Did I look sexy up there for you?” Tommy said to her perspective Champagne Room client.
“Oh, hell yeah, ma,” the man who called himself Kube replied. “You looked good as hell dancin’ up there on stage.” He had a toothpick hanging from between his lips.
“I bet you would like to take me in a dark room and let me give you a private dance, huh?”
“Yo, you’ll do dat shit?” Kube said with his New York accent telling on his city of residence.
“You see that room back there?” Tommy said, pointing. “I can make it happen right there for you, baby.”
“You gon’ take some shit off?”
“You tippin’ proper?”
“Fo’ shizzel,” Kube said, fondling the toothpick with his tongue and rolling it with his fingers.
“A’ight then,” Tommy replied. “You and Benji follow me.”
“Benji?” Kube questioned.
“Ben Franklin,” Tommy said, screwing up her mug.
“Damn, it’s gon’ cost me a hundred?”
“Oh, you a baller on a budget?” Tommy asked.
“No, ma. It ain’t even like that,” Kube replied.
“Oh, you one of them cheap-ass wankstas frontin’ like a gangsta.” Tommy knew the more she insulted his pockets, the deeper he would go into them to prove her wrong. She’d met his kind a thousand times.
“You see this shit right here?” Kube said, pulling out a thick wad of cash. “Do this look like Monopoly money to you?” Kube proceeded to peel off twenties and throw them at Tommy, who kindly scooped them up. “Let’s go.” Kube took a sip from his drink and signaled to his two homeboys he rolled in with that he’d be right back.
Tommy showed Kube the way to the Champagne Room where Kube paid Bear one hundred dollars to enter. Tommy led him over to the couch and fetched the champagne.
Kube sat on the puffy black couch that many niggaz and hoes had fucked on over the years. He bobbed his head to the beat of the music as he stroked one of the purple, satin pillows that was on the couch.
“That’s my shit,” Kube said, referring to the song that was coming through the speakers. “Can you turn that up?”
“Sure, baby, whatever you want,” Tommy said, turning the music up. With her back toward Kube, she began to pour the champagne.
“Can you turn it up a little more?”
“Just a little more. I want you to be able to hear me when I talk shit in your ear,” Tommy joked.
As soon as Tommy turned the music up a notch, she felt Kube’s hands groping all over her.
“Slow down, baby. Let me finish this here and I’ll be over to do my thang. You just go back over to the couch and wait for me.”
“I want my shit right here, right now,” Kube said.
“You want me to dance for you right here?” Tommy asked. “Don’t you think the couch would be more comfortable? You can sit down and—”
“Bitch, stop playing games,” Kube said, cutting Tommy off. “I ain’t pay no hundred dollars to get back here for no dance. Hell, you could have danced for me out here. A nigga trying to get some ass.”
“Well, you got me bent,” Tommy said. “Ain’t no sex in the Champagne Room with me. You get a dance and that’s it, nigga.”
“I thought hoes play when ballers pay.” Kube placed his hand down Tommy’s crotch.
Tommy fixed her mouth to start cussing Kube out, but when she went to open her mouth, he rammed his tongue down her throat. Tommy knew if she got herself in the right position she could take Kube, but the trick had caught her off guard. The feeling of Kube’s fingers plunging in and out of Tommy made her want to throw up.
Tommy was able to draw her hand up and slice her nails down the side of Kube’s face. In retaliation, Kube grabbed Tommy by her hair and pulled her down to the ground, still kissing her and using his other hand to finger her. Tommy’s resistance only excited him more.
As Kube was forcing Tommy down to the ground, she managed to grab onto the neck of the champagne bottle. Taking the bottle of bubbly down with her, she cracked Kube right over his head. This dazed him momentarily.
“You fucking cunt,” Kube said, grabbing his head as blood streamed down his face. “You’re dead, whore. You hear me? You fuckin’ dead!”
Tommy had already made her way to the door and summoned Bear to handle that nigga. Bear took one look at Tommy’s desperate face and disheveled hair and could tell something wasn’t right. He picked Kube up like a rag doll and escorted him out of the Champagne Room. The two dudes Kube was with noticed the commotion and darted across the room to have their homeboy’s back. The two dudes were no match for Big Bear, who put all three of them out the club. Their punk asses knew they didn’t want none of Big Bear. But at least they had the heart to run up on him.
“You all right, girl?” Storm said, entering the Champagne Room where Tommy stood, still shaken up, but was more pissed off than anything.
“Girl, yeah, I’m all right,” Tommy replied. “Son of a bitch. Niggaz kill me thinkin’ just ’cause you dance for a living you fuck for a living, too, or that a big tip equals a quickie. Fuck this shit!”
“He didn’t fuck you, did he?” Storm asked.
“No, but he was kissing me, and he stuck his fingers . . .” Tommy couldn’t even finish she was so mad and disgusted.
“It’s okay, Wine. It’s okay. Girl, it’s gon’ be all right,” Storm said, hugging Tommy.
“I’ma get that New York bastard,” Tommy ranted.
“Girl, you know how these niggaz are. They think they can cut through our neck of the woods from the big city and treat us like trash. Fuck ’em, girl. Let it go. Trust me, they know better than to come up in here with that bull shit again.”
Tommy shook her head. Negative. Try as she might, she was a grudgeable bitch. She couldn’t let this shit go if she wanted to. “I want you to handle his ass, Storm,” Tommy said.
“Girl, you just scared and angry right now,” Storm replied.
“No, I want you and Thunder to handle that fucker. How much is it gon’ cost me? I got money.”
“Come on, Wine. You trippin’.”
Bear knocked on the cracked open door and peeked through. “You all right, Wine?” Bear asked Tommy.
“Yeah, I’m cool,” Tommy replied.
“I got that buster’s license plate number and shit if you wanna press charges or anything.”
“It was probably a rental,” Tommy said pessimistically.
“Naw, that shit was customized,” Bear responded. “It wasn’t no rental.”
Bear handed a piece of paper with the license plate number on it to Storm, who was closer to him, to give to Tommy. Storm took it from his hand. “I got this,” Storm told Bear. Enough said, Bear closed the door behind him. Storm tried to hand the piece of paper to Tommy, but Tommy pushed her hand away.
“Naw, you keep it. You gon’ be needing it to track that nigga down. How much?” Tommy was hell bent on utilizing Storm and Thunder’s services.
Storm thought for a moment. There was no way she could refuse to help Tommy. One way or the other, Tommy was gonna get at old dude. Storm figured she might as well let professionals take care of him.
“You know what, boo? This one is on me,” Storm said, lifting up her purple Crown Royal bag and sticking the piece of paper down inside it along with her tips. “As a matter of fact, by the time I finish cleaning out that nigga’s pockets, it’s gon’ be on him.” Storm turned to exit.
“I want the full package, you know, M&M.”
Storm stopped and turned to face Tommy. “You sure about that?”
Without blinking Tommy said, “I’m sure.”
Storm shrugged. “All right then; Murder Mommies it is. And don’t you worry. We gon’ melt in that mafucka’s mouth for sure: just like M&Ms.”
Dollar was standing outside of the work building talking to Jay when Kera walked up. Please don’t let her walk over here and speak to me. Please, God, Dollar thought as he continued
on with his conversation with Jay.
“Hey, Dareese,” Kera said as she approached Dollar.
“Damn,” Dollar mumbled under his breath as he tried to ignore her. He’d told himself not to mess with that young girl. Now getting rid of her was going to be like getting rid of ants at a picnic.
“Dollar,” Kera said, putting a little bass in her voice.
“Oh, hey, Kera, hey. Uhh yeah, hey,” Dollar stuttered. By this time, all eyes were on the boss’s daughter. All eyes were green. Every one of them guys had used Kera as a motivating factor to jacking off. Their dreams were Dollar’s reality.
“Yeah, uhh hey,” Kera replied as they each stood in silence. “Well, I just wanted to say hey.”
“Hey,” Dollar said.
“Hey,” Kera said, looking stupid as she walked away in humiliation. As she entered the building, she could hear the men begin to whistle and salute Dollar for his conquer.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Redd said to his baby girl, seeing that she was a little disturbed.
“Nothing really,” Kera hesitated. She had a pretty close relationship with her father. She could talk about almost anything with him. When she started her period in school it was her father she called to talk to and not her mother. He took away the dirty feeling she had about having a period and made her feel clean again, like she was normal and entering womanhood. Well, right about now she needed to feel good and normal again. She turned to Redd. “Daddy, can we talk?”
“Yo, T, come on. Answer the door. It’s me, Dollar,” Dollar said, knocking on Tommy’s door like he was SWAT. After a few more pounds the door cracked open.
“Damn, girl, what took you so long? You ain’t answering your phone or nothing,” Dollar said, but before he could get another word out of his mouth, he saw that the person who answered the door wasn’t Tommy. It was her older niece.
“Hi,” the girl said. “You Dollar?”
“Yeah, I’m Dollar.”
“My aunt always talks about you. I’d know you anywhere. She has pictures of you in newspaper articles. You were going up the courthouse steps in one picture. You were in the courtroom in another. You look bigger in person.”
“Yeah, I’m a little bit bigger,” Dollar said. “Where is your aunt?”
“She’s not feeling well. She’s ’sleep, but I’m sure she’d want me to wake her up for you.”
“Is something wrong with the phone?” Dollar asked. “I tried calling.”
“Oh, the ringers are off. The phone kept waking her up. Do you want me to get her?” the girl said.
“No, it’s cool,” Dollar said. “Just let her know I stopped by to talk about some work I got lined up.”
“’Kay,” the girl said as she watched Dollar walk away.
Dollar walked back to the car where Ral was waiting on him.
“She ain’t home?” Ral asked once Dollar was inside the car.
“Yeah, she’s home. She ain’t feeling well or some shit. I need to holler at her when her head is right.”
“So you still wanna head over to Jimmy’s to grab a bite and talk business?”
“Yeah, we can do that,” Dollar replied.
Dollar and Ral went on to Jimmy’s, without Tommy, so that they could discuss their next move. The stickup Dollar had lined up was one that Ral and Tommy could handle on their own. Dollar wanted them to rob Mr. Owens. Dollar knew for a fact that Mr. Owens always carried a good amount of cash money on his person, and another good amount in the glove box of his Navigator. He wasn’t a check writing or credit card using man. He liked dealing with straight-up cash. Mr. Owens always said that when you use cash money you get more for less because money talks. Dollar knew that they’d get no more than $9,000, but he still upheld the theory that free money was always good money.
CHAPTER 19
From Hood Life to the Good Life
After a couple days of cooling off from her awful experience with Kube, Tommy put her high-heeled boots back on and hit the grind. She also handled her business with stickin’ up Mr. Owens. She and Ral pulled off the robbery with ease. There was a good chance he would have recognized Dollar had he participated.
They caught Mr. Owens first thing in the morning, 6:00 a.m., as he was getting ready to pull out of his driveway for work. Dollar had been to Mr. Owens’s house before and had given Tommy and Ral directions on how to get there. It just so happened that Mr. Owens was making a bank deposit that day and had an extra few grand on him, which made the total stickup worth $13,000.
Dollar took his share, purchased some odds and ends for his place, and tightened up his wardrobe. He invested in a fourteen-karat gold Figaro necklace and bracelet set. He wasn’t trying to mess with that platinum jewelry that just drew attention to him.
It hadn’t taken Dollar long at all since his release from jail to get a nice place to rest his head, a nice li’l ride, and a nice li’l wardrobe. He had a couple of options on pussy and he looked good as hell. On top of all that, he had a legit job so Uncle Sam couldn’t fuck with him.
Dollar kept a nice little bank account, but he kept his real loot in a safe at his apartment. He made it a habit to always deposit one half of the money he made working at Redd’s into his bank account. He didn’t deposit the money from his mother’s life insurance policy. This way he could always say that any purchases he made were made with that money.
At this point, Dollar felt all he needed was one big hit. Redd had been talking to him about some investments he’d made that damn near quadrupled his money, and Dollar was looking to do the same. With the money he earned from his investments, he wouldn’t mind opening up a spot similar to Redd’s. Maybe he could open up a barbershop/massage parlor or something. Dollar didn’t know what he was going to set up for himself, but he knew that he had to do something. All good things came to an end and he wanted to be the one to put an end to them; not the police and not some jealous thug. He would live the good life, but on his own terms.
The line at the bank was long and Dollar was becoming agitated. There were two security guards on duty. One in particular, who was standing at the bank entrance right underneath the surveillance camera, kept eyeballin’ Dollar. The security guard didn’t try to hide his suspicions, as he never once turned his eyes away from Dollar, even when Dollar decided to stare back at him. Dollar wanted to go over there and whoop his ass. After all, security was standing underneath the camera, so the assault wouldn’t get caught on tape.
Dollar should have known better anyway than to go to the bank at lunchtime on a Friday afternoon. There were only five more people ahead of him out of the eleven that were initially standing in front of him. Although Dollar had already been waiting a half hour in that line, he didn’t think he could stand to wait much longer. Just as he decided to pull out of line someone tapped him on the shoulder.
“I didn’t mean for you to have to stand in line. You can come back to my desk now,” a voice said to Dollar.
He turned around and to his surprise standing there was Hennessey.
“Huh? What?” This was the third time she just happened to pop up. In Dollar’s mind, this was clearly no coincidence, this was fate. This was a sign that he was indeed supposed to hook up with this chick and the gods were on his side. He’d let her slip through his fingers the first two times, with not so much as getting her phone number. He was getting yet another chance, which would probably be his last. Hopefully the third time really was a charm.
“I said, you don’t have to wait in line again. Come on back.” She winked and began walking toward the back office area. “Right this way,” Hennessey said, signaling with her hand for Dollar to follow.
Dollar smiled and followed Hennessey back to a cozy little office where she offered him a seat.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” Dollar said. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“That’s because you’ve never looked into investing in your retirement,” Hennessey said. “That’s what I do here; make sure peo
ple are taken care of when they’re old and gray.”
“I’m anything but that,” Dollar said with conceit, which lightweight turned Hennessey off, evident by the corners of her mouth slightly turning downward.
“What can I help you with today, Mr. Blake?” Hennessey asked Dollar.
“A deposit . . .” His words trailed off as curiosity took over his thoughts. “How did you know my last name?” Dollar asked. He was almost certain he’d only given her his first name, and not even that, but his nickname.
Hennessey’s eyes went left, right, then downward. “Well, it’s not that hard to read upside down, you know,” Hennessey said, referring to the personalized, preprinted pink deposit slip Dollar had in his hand. “I can make that deposit for you.”
“How do I know you’re not going to run off with all of my money?” Dollar joked.
“You don’t know, do you? I guess you’ll just have to trust me,” Hennessey said, holding her hand out to take Dollar’s deposit.
Dollar stuck his hand out to give Hennessey his deposit, but instead he grabbed her by the arm. “Fuck the deposit,” Dollar said, looking into Hennessey’s eyes. “Let me take this money and spend it all on you.”
Hennessey couldn’t help but laugh as she took the deposit out of Dollar’s hand with her loose hand. “That’s quite all right, Mr. Blake,” she said as she proceeded to log the deposit into her computer.
Dollar watched her pounding away at the keyboard, thinking all the while what he wouldn’t do to get with her fine self. She was playing hard to get, but he could tell that she wanted him. But what could she possibly want him for?”
Dollar second-guessed himself. What did he have to offer her? He wasn’t exactly company Christmas party material. Hello, I’m Dollar. I do construction for a living and, oh yeah, on the side I rob people. Dollar laughed to himself.
“Something funny?” Hennessey asked.
“It’s funny why you won’t go out with me,” Dollar answered. “Come on, just dinner.”
“Nah,” Hennessey said. “You look like the type who might feel as though I’d owe you something afterward. Being in debt is not my thing.”
