by Foye, K'wan
“It do whatever is necessary to make tomorrow better than yesterday,” he said to Frankie but kept his eyes on Porsha. He could tell seeing him had thrown her off, so he threw something extra in his stare and watched her squirm like a deer in headlights. She was about to say something to him, but he purposely snubbed her and turned his attention back to Frankie. “What’s up, Frankie Angels? How you been, love?”
Frankie shrugged. “I’m here, so I can’t complain. You’re looking good, ain’t he, Porsha?”
Porsha didn’t reply. She just rolled her eyes.
“Well, is somebody gonna introduce me, or am I gonna keep wondering who the elephant in the room is?” Dena spoke up. For a minute they had forgotten she was there.
“Dena, this is Alonzo; Zo, this is Dena, my homegirl from my building.” Frankie made the introductions.
“Zo like Zo-Pound?” Dena asked. The moniker tugged at her brain.
“They called me that once upon a time,” Alonzo confirmed.
“I think you knew my older brother Shannon, from Jefferson.” Dena finally put the pieces together. Her mind went back to the day Shannon and Spooky let Dena tag on one of their shady adventures into Harlem. The dude they went to meet had his little brother with him, who he called Zo-Pound. He was way younger than Shannon and Spooky, but the two seemed to have a great deal of admiration for the young cat. Dena would never see Zo-Pound again until that night in BBQ’s, but she would hear his name a time or two over the years, and it was always associated with mayhem.
Alonzo’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that was my old head. He was wild as fuck, but one of the most genuine niggaz I ever met. We lost contact when I went up north, but I’d love to get up with my nigga and see what’s good with him. You got a number or an address for your brother?”
“Yeah, Rose Hill Cemetery. That’s where we buried him after he was murdered.” Dena gave him the short version of what had happened to her mother’s oldest son.
“Shit, I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences to you, sis,” Alonzo said sincerely.
“Thanks,” Dena said with a smile. “So, how do you know Frankie and Porsha?” she asked, changing the subject.
“He and Porsha used to date,” Frankie answered for him.
Dena raised an eyebrow. “Really?” She gave Porsha a nod of approval. Though Dena wasn’t into dudes anymore, she was still a female and couldn’t deny the fact that Alonzo was fine as hell.
“I see you got jokes, trick.” Porsha rolled her eyes at Frankie. “No,” she addressed Dena, “Alonzo and I didn’t date.”
“Y’all should have. Everybody knew that y’all were crushing on each other so I don’t know why y’all didn’t just make it official,” Frankie laughed.
“Porsha never felt like I was quite in her league,” Alonzo explained.
Dena looked from Alonzo to Porsha. “You must set your standards way high,” she laughed.
Porsha ignored Dena and addressed Alonzo. “You know you wrong for spreading that lie. Don’t act like that, Zo.”
“I’m just teasing you, ma,” Alonzo assured her. “In all truthfulness, I owe you a debt.”
“For what?” Porsha asked suspiciously.
“Because you gave me some advice that changed my life,” he said seriously. “You once told me that I was stuck where I was at because I was afraid to fly beyond it, so I sprouted some wings,” he said, brushing imaginary lint from the sleeves of his sweater.
“So no more supermarkets, huh?” Porsha asked playfully.
Alonzo’s lips twisted in disapproval. “Baby, I know your brain has already processed what your eyes told it, so why even play it like that?”
Porsha was taken aback. “I’m scared of you, Mr. Man.” She looked him up and down.
“Don’t be scared, ma, be open to the idea,” Alonzo shot back. “And for the record, my name ain’t Man, it’s Alonzo. Zo-Pound if you know me like that.” He leaned in and whispered to Porsha, “I told you a long time ago that you were gonna stop sleeping on me.”
“Whatever,” Porsha waved him off as if it was nothing. Truthfully, the way Zo was coming at her was turning her on. The person standing before her wasn’t the cocky young dude stacking boxes in the supermarket, but a confident young cat who was about his business.
Their little moment was interrupted when a fifth party joined their group. Veronica stood there, wide legged in her tight purple dress, nostrils flaring slightly, and eyes sweeping the gorgeous girls at the table. She looked Porsha up and down but didn’t stare. “I guess you got lost on your way to the bathroom,” she said to Alonzo.
“Nah, just bumped into a few of my peeps and popped over to say hello,” Alonzo said as if it hadn’t been about to go down between him and Porsha. “Ladies,” he addressed the girls, “this is my friend, Veronica.”
Frankie and Dena nodded and waved, but Porsha let her voice be heard. “Charmed, I’m sure,” she said with a crooked grin. She knew Veronica was trying to mark her territory. Porsha had to admit that Veronica had a banging body, but her whole swag screamed hood rat. She couldn’t fuck with Porsha.
“Damn, I’m over here going down memory lane and neglecting the young lady I rolled in here with. Please forgive me for being a poor date.” He kissed Veronica’s hand, looking up at Porsha. She gave him a knowing look. Checkmate, he thought to himself. “It was good seeing you again, ladies.” Alonzo saluted them and threw his arm around Veronica, leading her back to their table.
“Hey, Alonzo,” Porsha called after him, stopping him short. When he turned around she raised her shot glass and said, “Here’s to sound advice.” She downed the shot and slammed the glass, upside down, on the table.
Alonzo smiled. “To sound advice.” He continued to his table with Veronica.
Porsha watched Alonzo walk away, not really caring who saw the look she was giving him. She saw Veronica say something to him and Alonzo brush her off, which made her smile. Veronica could have Alonzo’s dick, but Porsha would forever have his heart.
TWENTY-SIX
“WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” VERONICA ASKED when they were back at their table.
“What was what about?” Alonzo seemed oblivious to what she was talking about.
“The chicks you were over there talking to. Did you used to see one of them or something?” she asked.
“Nah, I just know them from the neighborhood,” he told her.
“Seemed like a li’l more than you just know them from the neighborhood. The chick with the Mohawk kept shooting me dirty looks like she had something she wanted to say.”
“I doubt it. Porsha ain’t the type of chick to bite her tongue if she has something to say,” Alonzo stated. Without even realizing he was doing it, he let his eyes drift back to Porsha. She was staring in his direction too, but when they made eye contact she turned away.
“So you do know her like that,” Veronica pressed.
“I told you, I know them from the hood,” Alonzo said in an irritated tone.
“Look, I’m sorry, Zo.” She reached under the table and rubbed his thigh, purposely letting her hand brush his penis. “I don’t wanna come off as a crazy, jealous bitch on our first date and turn you off, but we had a good li’l vibe going and the detour kinda threw it off, ya know?”
“Indeed, and that was my fault. I shouldn’t have left you hanging. That was rude,” he conceded.
“See? That was painless.” Veronica rubbed her hands together, then spread them apart as if she was crushing something, then releasing it to the wind. “How about we pick up where we left off?”
“Works for me,” Alonzo agreed.
They ordered another round of drinks and dessert while trying to get their date back on track. Every so often, Alonzo’s eyes would drift back to Porsha, but for the most part, he stayed focused on Veronica. Soon, there was a commotion at the front door of the restaurant that caused both of them to look that way. A group of young girls, including several of the waitresses, crowded around the entrance squ
ealing like high school kids while trying to get camera phone shots of whomever it was coming in. When the restaurant manager and a few of the bus boys managed to thin out the crowd Alonzo saw that the person who had caused the commotion was none other than Don B.
Don B. pulled to a screeching halt in front of BBQ’s and threw the candy red Benz in park and put the hazards on. Two seconds later, a white Benz identical to the red one pulled up behind it. Don B. hopped out, wearing black shades, baggy blue jeans, and a white V-neck T-shirt with a blue Yankee fitted cocked to one side. Pinched between his lips was a smoldering blunt, which bobbed every time he said something. He hit the alarm and stepped on the curb with every intention on leaving the car where it was while he ate. It was in a bus lane and sure to get a ticket or worse, but he didn’t give a shit. He was The Don, and all that mattered to him that night was that he was hungry.
Young Dance got out of the passenger’s side of the red Benz, trying his best to light his blunt with a lighter that was obviously out of fuel. He too was wearing a fitted cap and white T-shirt with blue jeans. For summertime in Harlem having a plethora of white tees and a few fitted hats was a must, and Young Dance was Harlem to the heart. He and Don B. had been kicking it heavy all day, and The Don was showing Dance the time of his life. The Big Dawg crew was showing him major love, and he soaked it all up.
A cat named Tone jumped out of the white Benz and brushed himself off. Unlike Don B. and Dance, Tone had slightly different tastes when it came to dressing. He wore a crispy blue Polo shirt with a white fisherman’s cap, white linen pants, and a pair of white Nike Airs. Tone had been running with Don B. for years, but while Don B. was in the streets, Tone was away at school. When Don B. started getting big in the music industry, Tone left college to help his friend and applied what he had learned to helping his friend grow his record label. Don B. had always been a natural hustler, but with Tone’s book smarts and cutthroat nature, Big Dawg blew up!
“Damn, I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we got here,” Tone said, rubbing his stomach and looking inside the window of BBQ’s hungrily.
“Me too.” Dance licked his lips, which were now extremely dry from the weed. “Are we gonna wait for Devil and them to get here before we go in and eat?”
“Nah, Devil and them niggaz went ahead to the club. We’re gonna meet them down there when we bust this food down,” Don B. explained.
Young Dance looked shocked. “Son, for as big of a star as you are I thought you would roll everywhere with security.”
Don B. gave Dance a queer look. “My nigga, I ain’t no gangsta rapper; I’m a gangsta-turned-rapper. I keep security with me when it’s necessary, like doing clubs and appearances, but when I’m in the streets, I like to move how I move, smell me?”
“I guess,” Dance said.
“Besides, Tone would never let anything happen to me, would you, Tone?” Don B. said playfully.
“Never,” Tone answered with a serious face.
“Come on, let’s go eat so we can make moves to the spot.” Don B. led the way toward the entrance. It was quiet when he first walked in, but all it took was for one person to recognize him, then out came the groupies. Chicks were even trying to throw themselves at Dance because he was with Don B. “Feels good to be a rock star, doesn’t it?” Don B. whispered in Dance’s ear as he signed an autograph for one of the waitresses.
Once the manager and a few of the bus boys broke up the crowd, he asked Don B. to follow him to a secluded booth in the back where he could eat in peace. Don B. moved through the restaurant with a heavy dip in his walk so his big chain would swing harder. At one table a girl made the mistake of staring at him for too long and the dude she was with threw a glass of water in her face before getting up to leave. All eyes were on Don B., as he preferred it. He wanted everybody in the joint to know that a real nigga was in the building.
As they crossed the dining room en route to the section the manager was seating them in, Young Dance made an offhanded comment about a cute dark-skinned chick who was sitting with two of her friends in a corner booth. When Don B. looked to see who he was talking about, he doubled over in laughter. He tapped Tone, who laughed too, and when they let Dance in on the joke, they laughed as a trio. Don B. could see rage flash across the girl’s face, and it only made him laugh harder. She barked something at him, trying to cause a scene, so he decided to feed into it and have a little fun at her expense.
Alonzo felt his stomach twist into knots when he saw Don B. and his crew approach the booth where Porsha and her friends were sitting. The thought of Don B. trying to holla at Porsha infuriated Alonzo, because he knew his type. People like Don B. thought that because they had money it entitled them to anything they wanted, while people like Alonzo had to jump through hoops for what little they had. Well, if somebody like Don B. was who Porsha wanted, then fuck her, he was gonna make the best out of his night with Veronica.
“You know them cats or something?” Veronica asked, noticing how Alonzo was looking at Don B.
Alonzo downplayed it. “Something like that.”
“Damn, you rolling heavier than I thought,” Veronica said, impressed that Alonzo knew such important people.
“Don’t believe the hype, ma. Me and scrams go back a bit, that’s all.” Alonzo waved his hand dismissively.
Veronica leaned back in her chair and folded her arms while looking at Alonzo. “Zo, you kill me with this too cool for school attitude of yours.”
“How do you mean?” he asked curiously.
“I mean how you carry yourself like nothing fazes you. Zo, we come from the same thing, which is nothing, but here you are moving around with boss niggaz. Most muthafuckas would’ve lost their composure having those kinds of connections, but not you.”
“Well, I ain’t most muthafuckas,” Alonzo shrugged. His eyes cut back in Porsha’s direction. Don B. was smiling and kicking what he assumed to be some weak-ass lines to Porsha.
“That’s obvious to a duck,” Veronica continued. “A girl could probably spend most of her life trying to figure out what makes you tick.”
“I wouldn’t argue with you on that count. I’m like an onion, baby; there’s layers to me, so it may take you a minute to get to the center of who I really am,” he told her.
“I’m trying to get to know you, but your ass is like a puzzle that I can’t quite figure out.”
“Well, while you’re busy trying to figure me out, let me pick your brain a li’l bit. One thing I gotta ask is, how come a sexy broad like you ain’t got no man?” he asked.
“Why I gotta be a broad?” Veronica threw a napkin at him playfully. “To answer your question, it’s because most of the dudes I meet don’t have the same ambitions that I do.”
“I know that’s right.” Alonzo raised his drink, and they clicked glasses. He was waiting for Veronica to drop some more wisdom, and that’s when the conversation went to the left.
“True story, Zo,” she continued. “Most of these dudes just wanna get paroled to your crib or have you take care of them, but I ain’t off that. If I’m bringing something to the table, then you gotta be bringing something to the table too. Shit, I got three kids, and it ain’t easy raising them on my own.”
“You got what, where, who?” Alonzo’s brain hit the air brakes.
“That’s why I fucks wit’ you, Alonzo.” She ignored the bewildered expression on his face and kept talking. “You’re about your business, daddy. I think that we can do big things together.”
“You’re coming at me with a lot right now. Give me a minute to digest all this.” He tried to derail her, but it was not to be.
“Ain’t too much to digest, Zo. I’m a girl who doesn’t believe in beating around the bush. When I see something I want, I go for it, and I want you!” Veronica told him.
“Baby, you don’t even know me,” he pointed out.
“Boy, please, we’ve known each other since high school. I had a soft spot for you then, and I got one for you now, Z
o. You gotta admit that we were good together.”
“I hear you, V, but shit is different now than when we were in high school. I fucks wit’ you heavy, but I ain’t looking for no girl, at least right now. I’m just trying to make it through from one day to the next. As it stands, my life is a li’l complicated at the moment.”
“And I ain’t trying to complicate it further, Zo, I just want a chance to earn my spot in your heart.”
“The heart is a complicated thing,” Alonzo said honestly.
Veronica reached over and turned his head so that they were eye to eye. “Only as complicated as you make it. Boo, I was always the Bonnie to your Clyde, and we can be that way again, but on another level. With a bitch like me at your side, you can go all the way to the top!”
Alonzo was totally lost. “To the top of what?”
“Of the game. What else?” she asked as if he should’ve known. “Zo, I know you, boo. You can fool some of these muthafuckas with that ‘working nigga’ shit, but my ears are always to the streets, so I know what it is.”
“And what is it?” he asked, still in total disbelief at how Veronica was coming at him.
“The streets are buzzing about how Zo-Pound is back. I didn’t believe it at first, but when I saw you with your brother Lakim that day, I knew it was true. Boo, I can show you better than I can tell you why a bitch like me would be such an asset to your team.”
Alonzo was waiting for her to hit him with the punch line so they could both have a good laugh, but the broad was serious. “You mean to tell me all this was about a job interview?” He laughed. “Baby, you shot-out, and that’s real talk. I don’t know who you think I am, but I ain’t that nigga, and I thought you weren’t that bitch, but obviously we were both wrong about each other.” He waved the waitress over so he could get the check. “I think it’s time for me to drop you off.”
“Wait a second, Zo. Did I do something wrong?” Veronica asked, confused and slightly panicked as she felt her hold on Zo slipping.
“Nah, baby, it ain’t you. This is all on me,” he told her, handing the waitress some bills and telling her to keep the change. Veronica kept trying to explain herself, but Alonzo was only half-listening, steering her toward the front door with his hand in the small of her back.
