Money was not an issue to Bacon, nor was it to Q, until now. Nigga decide to go legit now, she said to herself, concerned with the mere fifty g’s she had left in her checking account. For a bitch like Red, this meant she was broke, and it wasn’t a good feeling.
Frustrated, Red got up and did a final walk-through. “Everything looks good,” she said out loud. “I can’t believe the open house is going down tomorrow.” She walked to the front door and opened it. Dusk was settling upon Detroit, and she looked up at the sky. “Thank you, Gloria. Thank you for all you have done and don’t worry . . . I got you, down here.”
Red placed her introduction packets on her display table and made sure there were enough home ownership materials and commercial property listings available for her customers. She also placed the latest copies of Ebony and Essence on the lobby table because they both featured African Americans and home ownership articles.
Red skimmed through the publications to make sure she didn’t miss anything before she left for the night, and something caught her eye. It was March’s bestseller list. Red read through the section. Her eyes widened when she saw Bitch Nigga, Snitch Nigga was number one. “I wonder how much this book has made so far? I only got half upfront, but shit, I know there’s money somewhere.” Red grinned greedily. “I’m about to get paid!”
• • •
“Hi, baby!” Red said, excitedly, when she walked into the loft. It was late and she was glad Q was waiting up for her. She was floating on cloud nine, knowing that she had money coming to her from the book. She kissed Q on the cheek and gave him a tight hug.
“Hey, baby, where you been?” he asked. “I was getting worried about you.” He still cared for her but his feelings were torn between Red and Chass.
“Getting ready for tomorrow. You comin’, aren’t you?”
Q saw Red’s enthusiasm and smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world.” Red kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch. “I’m proud of you, baby,” Q told her and sat down next to her.
“For what?” Red looked at him. No one had ever told her that before.
“Because you’ve really made a big change. You’re really working hard, Red, and I see it.” Red beamed with appreciation. “Oh, I been meaning to ask you, did you deposit the check?”
“What check?” Red was still basking in Q’s compliment.
“You know, the check for one point six million.”
Red’s expression changed almost instantly.
“What, Red?” Q asked suspiciously. “You know I’m outta the game. What was it that you said to me at the church? ‘Q, I would trade all of this in for you. I realized it doesn’t mean anything if I can’t have you.’ What are you waiting for, Red? You don’t mean it anymore? If not, we can cut our losses and go our separate ways right now.” Q was serious. He couldn’t allow his pride to be wounded again.
Red’s quick thinking took over. “You know what,” she said as she climbed onto him and straddled his lap. “I was just thinking . . .” She kissed his neck.
“Thinking about what?” Q said, disgusted.
Red whispered in Q’s ear while she unbuttoned his shirt. Q’s little head won the battle again. “I was thinking the same thing.” Q picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Red was glad her plan worked; at least sexing Q would buy her some time before she had to tell him about the check.
CHAPTER 26
Red was amazed at the turnout for her open house. The morning was filled with couples looking to buy their first homes and others looking to move into something bigger. She had to endure bratty-ass, unmanageable children who stepped on her new Montablanco shoes, while others ran amok and took the magazines out of the racks and touched the “shiny things.” She wondered if, had the parents known their kids would turn out to be brats, they would have elected to take the RU486 abortion pill.
Just as Red expected, the afternoon brought out the ballers, many of whom she had known when she dealt with Bacon. Some thought she was still with him, but others knew she wasn’t and tried to get up on her. Red’s other real estate plans including flipping houses and hustling HUD deals. Red loved the attention but reminded them that it was business first.
After her last potential client left, Red sat at her desk, exhausted. She began separating the paperwork into requests: inquiries, homes to search for, commercial properties to search for. She also made note of which inquiries would achieve the highest commission. Those would be the ones she would work the hardest for first.
She thought back to a conversation she overheard when she was writing a contract earlier. Although she didn’t know who was talking, the message came through loud and clear.
“Man, what you think about that shit I gave you the other week?”
“Had to check it out on the low-low though because I ain’t want folks knowin’ I was reading like that.” Quiet laughter. “Anyway, I wish I could find that ho who wrote the book. I ain’t seen her picture on the Triple Crown website, but I wonder if she fine.”
“Shit, ain’t no need to be fine . . . the bitch is paid. Last thing I heard, she made over a hun’ded g’s and the chedda still rollin’ in. A nigga need a bitch like that holdin’ down some legit shit.”
By the time Red finished up with the contract, she couldn’t find the culprits who had just called her a bitch and a ho, but her mind was spinning with the information it now contained.
Remembering how much work she had put into everything today, Red knew she would actually have to work twice as hard to live the way she wanted—and this wasn’t something she was prepared to do. Looking at the paperwork before her, Red knew through her real estate experience that half of the contracts wouldn’t materialize. Either people would change their minds or their credit would be fucked up. She knew the high rollers would want some pussy in return for the fat-ass commission she would receive off their purchase. Her left eyebrow raised at the possibility because some of them were endless money pits.
Do I really want to do this? Do I really wanna work this hard? She stifled a yawn, then thought back to the conversation. Red picked up the phone and dialed. A recording picked up:
“Thank you for calling Triple Crown Publications. Our office is currently closed.” She listened to the rest of the message until she heard a beep.
“Hi, this is Ra—Lisa Lennox,” Red corrected. “Could you please return my call on Monday morning.” She gave her cell phone number and hung up the phone. She straightened up a bit, then left to go home.
• • •
Bacon sat outside in his new custom Mercedes Maybach and watched Red walk toward the Range Rover truck she had been driving lately. He had been sitting watching her for the last hour. The more he sat, the angrier he became. “This dirty bitch really came up on account of me,” he said, looking at her building, “while I’m sitting in a muthafuckin’ cell, wasting away.” Bacon could feel the heat from Red’s neck in between his hands and feel her esophagus crunch under his power. Like Tupac said in his record, “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
CHAPTER 27
It was three o’clock in the morning and Blue sat in his car pondering his next move while Sasha slept peacefully in their hotel room. He had just gotten off the phone with one of his street connections and wondered how long it would take before they would act on what he had told them. He and Sasha were due to return to New York later today, but it was also the day Blue would have to report to Catfish.
When Catfish first contacted him about a hit on Red, Blue was down for it. He was still pissed about her fucking up his car years ago when they dated. You can mess with a man, but two things are off limits, his mother and his ride, and Red had crossed the line. However, Catfish didn’t know their history and, most of all, he didn’t know what Red’s pussy felt like.
Blue was checking out the situation when he came to her crib a while back, with the plan to kill her then, but Sasha threw a monkey wrench into the plan. She wanted to fuck, and Blue did
n’t have a problem with it. What he didn’t expect was for the pussy-eating freak to get in contact with him afterward. He knew he wanted to get up in that, because he didn’t do it that night, so he didn’t kill her right away. However, if Sasha was a dead fuck, he was gonna get rid of her after he got his.
Time was ticking away and Blue would have to report to Catfish not only about why Sasha was alive, but now, Red as well. Blue had a reputation for being a ruthless muthafucka, someone who would deliver, but now his reputation was shot to shit because he didn’t deliver. Word on the street had it that death was on the head of the woman who was indirectly identified in Bitch Nigga, Snitch Nigga. She was the only one who knew the truth about the murders that night, and Catfish felt Sasha had turned on him, so she had to be silenced. The bounty was quite handsome at $75,000 alive, and $100,000 dead. Greed was a muthafucka. Unfortunately, Sasha knew nothing of the book’s contents, but Blue did. He didn’t put two and two together until the commotion at the restaurant. Blue looked at the hotel and shook his head.
“Too bad it had to be you,” he said out loud. “You were down fo’ yo’ boy.”
He thought back to his unborn child, and without a second thought, Blue started his car and quickly drove away . . . away from all of his issues, and most of all away from Catfish. Once again, Blue was true blue . . . to himself.
• • •
Sasha got up a few hours later after a hotel wake-up call. Quietly, she padded around the hotel room. After taking her morning pee, she noticed that Blue wasn’t in the room. She peeled back the window curtains. It was a gloomy day outside. The forecast called for clouds and possible rain.
Downstairs, the room service attendant put the finishing touches on breakfast for Room 962.
“Hey, I’ll take that for you,” another worker offered. “I wanna show Rasheed around the hotel.”
“Thanks, guys,” the attendant said. “I’ve pulled a double and I’m tired.” She spoke through a yawn.
“No problem.” They took the cart and proceeded on the elevator to the ninth floor.
Sasha heard a knock at her hotel door. “Room service.”
“Come in,” Sasha called out, still peering out of the window. No sooner could she turn around when something that felt like tiny needles pierced her chest, abdomen and neck.
“We got ’er, man.”
“Good, we just need ’ta leave tonight to get our money from dat nigga Blue. Bitch niggas, snitch niggas . . .” The other hit man looked at Sasha’s dead body. “Just don’t need ’em.” They left the room.
CHAPTER 28
Red stepped out of the steamy bathroom and Q greeted her with her usual glass of orange juice.
Red didn’t have much to say to him because he missed her open house and couldn’t give an explanation for his whereabouts. Under normal circumstances, Red would have clowned, but she had other things on her mind. Q slid back into bed. Red noticed it and felt her temper rising.
Another couple of weeks had passed and Q still stayed at home while she worked, but she couldn’t let that sway her from what she had to do this morning. She had overslept and was late for an appointment. Red slammed the door hard as she left the bedroom, hoping it would wake Q up permanently for the rest of the day. She jetted out of the front door and rode the elevator downstairs. As she walked to her car, her cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Lisa Lennox?”
Red paused for a moment. The name threw her off. Then she smiled.
“Yes, this is Lisa.”
“This is Kammi Johnson from Triple Crown Publications. How are you today?”
“I was just okay earlier, but I’m doing well now.” She grinned from ear to ear like she was on Candid Camera.
“What can I help you with?”
“I was calling about the second payment of my book, and if I have received any royalties.”
“Your checks were sent a long time ago,” Kammi informed her. “As a matter of fact, I was going to follow up with you again about the sequel to the book.”
“Sequel? What sequel?” Red’s heart started racing.
“We spoke with your agent, sent correspondence and a contract . . . let’s see, almost two months ago about the sequel.”
“Agent?” Red questioned. “I had a one-book deal.”
“I know but you have had such major success with this book, fans are clamoring for a sequel. As a matter of fact, we would love to have the manuscript by the end of next month. We’ve already begun working on the cover and—”
“Wait a minute,” Red argued. “You’re talking like everything is ready to go.”
“Well, basically it is, Miss Lennox. We received your signed contract and started rolling on our end. We just need the manuscript.”
Red thought for a moment. Shit, I ain’t write the first one. What the fuck am I gonna do now?
“Ms. Johnson, where did you send the correspondence to?”
“Thirty-one-twenty-four Colonnade Drive.”
Red paused for what seemed like forever. “Can I call you back, Ms. Johnson?”
“Uh . . . sure, Lisa,” Kammi said with hesitancy. “Just remember, we need the manuscript by the end of next month.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Red asked.
“Sure.”
“You know, coming up with that first book took some time. What if I am unable to come up with a second book?”
“Well, since the contract has already been signed, it’s a legal obligation. If you don’t produce the second book, you must repay your advances and any additional fees. Hold on for a minute,” Kammi said. Red enjoyed the music while she waited for Kammi to return. “Thanks for holding. As a matter of fact, you should have gotten another check in the mail yesterday, today at the latest. Also, if you cash the check, and don’t produce the book, in addition to what I’ve already stated, you will owe us what was listed in your contract.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have the contract with me,” Red told her. “How much was it again? I’ve forgotten the exact dollar amount.”
“Fifty thousand dollars,” Kammi confirmed. “The advance we sent you was twenty-five thousand.”
Red’s eyes widened.
“Okay, thanks, Ms. Johnson.” Red hung up the phone, completely ignoring what Kammi said about a signed contract. Red had two stops to make when she was done with her client. The first was to the bank and the second was at the house she once shared with Bacon. I need to get that damn check and his driver’s license ’cuz I’m tired of Q bugging me about that damn money. Maybe the advance’ll hold him over until I can think of something. Nigga need to find a muthafuckin’ job or go back to hustlin’.
Red’s mind flashed to the house and her heart began to race. I need to get up in my house. If shit’s there, then I need to collect. But wait a minute, if that nigga Bacon is there, I’d be in danger. Shit, fuck it, I’ll just take that chance when I get there.
• • •
Q stood in line at the bank with the $1.6 million check in his hands. He didn’t understand why Red had never cashed it. He saw it lying on top of their dresser and decided to deposit it into her account. It was already signed, so why not do it for her, he figured.
“Next,” the teller called.
Q walked up to the window.
“Hello, Quentin,” the woman said.
“Kera? I didn’t know you worked here.” He didn’t recognize her. She wore a long-sleeved shirt, and he noticed she had grown her hair out but wore it in a tight ponytail. Her face was absent of any makeup and Q noticed for the first time how pretty she was. Plain . . . simple. “How are the baby and Mekel?”
A look of sadness washed over her face. “Mekel and I broke up,” she told him, “he’s back with Terry, they have their own place, but our son is doing well. Mekel is raising him. He’s growing and doing better than any of us have expected, all due to the grace of the Lord Almighty.”
Q nodded. He remembered Mekel telling him that she w
ent off into this religious kick, but didn’t realize how much until now.
“So what can I help you with?” she asked.
Q handed her the check. “I want to deposit this into Red’s account. She’s already endorsed it, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Kera looked at the check. It was the same one that was no good when Red tried to cash it. “She didn’t tell you?” Kera looked at Q quizzically.
“Tell me what?”
“A stop payment was issued on it and I told her that when she tried to cash it.” Q hung his head and Kera noticed that his jaw contracted. “Quentin, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Kera, I honestly don’t know.”
This time Kera wrote VOID on the check and handed it back to Q.
“You trying to say this ain’t no good?”
“If Red had anything to do with this, I believe you’ve just answered your own question.”
He walked away, dejected. Being nosy, Kera keyed in Red’s name to make sure everything went through in the transaction she had processed a few weeks ago. Kera smiled when she saw that Red’s personal account still had one dollar available.
She was being paid handsomely to keep an eye on it. Not long after Red attempted to cash the $1.6 million check, Kera was approached by an attractive woman when she was coming back from her lunch break one afternoon. The woman inquired about opening up an account in the name of Lisa Lennox and Isadore Jeffries. Kera told her that the gentleman had to be present. The woman looked at a well-dressed handsome man. Kera had seen him before but couldn’t place where.
“Yo, Kera,” he yelled, “lemme holla at you for a second.” He learned who she was because people on the street knew her as one of Red’s friends.
She looked around and was thankful for customers walking in and out of the bank. She timidly walked toward him.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” She wasn’t sure if he was one of the men she fucked before she finally came up, but she was about to find out.
The Dirty Red Series Page 38
