Priscilla’s face was beaming with pleasure when she heard Jennifer mention Mox’s recovery.
“The only thing is, they moved him to some rehabilitation center up in Greenwich Connecticut.”
“Greenwich? Why would they send him there?”
“I have no idea, but the address is in the glove compartment.”
“What about Brandi?” Priscilla was anxious.
“Okay, the good news is, your mother wasn’t able to get custody of her, but she has been placed with a family.”
“Dammit!” Priscilla’s voice went high. “Oh my God, I can’t imagine what my baby is goin’ through.” Her eyes started to water up. “How am I gonna get her back now? Lord. please help me.”
Jennifer touched Priscilla’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it girl, everything gon’ be alright. I got a plan. I know exactly where she is, and we can get her back, but we have to move fast.”
“Jennifer, please, I’ll do anything to get my baby back in my arms.” A tear rolled down the side of her face. “Anything…”
After a few hours of shopping in the Westchester Mall, Priscilla and Jennifer made their way downstairs to the Cheesecake Factory to sit, eat, and discuss the details of the plan.
“Dang girl, slow down. That food ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Priscilla looked up with a mouth full of food. “You ever eat a Valhalla food tray?”
“Hell no!”
“Well, me either.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin in her lap. “The whole time I was there, I didn’t touch those nasty ass trays. All I ate was honey buns, soups and pre-cooked rice.”
“I see,” Jennifer laughed. “You put on a few pounds too.”
Priscilla rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t remind me.” She took a sip of the virgin daiquiri in front of her. “So; what’s this plan you talkin’ about?”
A waiter came by to collect their empty plates and refill their drinks.
“Okay look, I found the family that Brandi is stayin’ with. It’s some white lady and her husband down in Harrison, she—”
“Is she alright?” Priscilla was apprehensive.
“Yes, she’s fine. They got money, so she’s well taken care of… trust me.”
Priscilla was still worried. “Are you sure? How do you know?”
Jennifer reached into her Dooney & Bourke handbag and grabbed her iPhone. “Here, look.”
It was a picture of Brandi, in a park, playing on the swings.
Priscilla stared at the phone. “This is all my fault.” she said, feeling guilty. “If I would’a done better, she wouldn’t be in this situation. I can’t blame nobody but myself.” she sniffled and the agony of separation got the best of her, causing her to break down and cry, like a child who couldn’t get what they desired.
Jennifer rubbed her shoulder. “Stop beatin’ yourself up, Priscilla. I told you, I got a plan. We can get her back.”
Immediately, she looked up. “How?”
Jennifer dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin and sipped her water. “Every Saturday afternoon, they bring Brandi to the park for an hour to let her run around. The same park, the same hour, every weekend. Each time, it’s the same routine. I got it mapped out. Look, all we gotta do is be there when they are, and as soon as she takes her eyes off her, we snatch her! What you think?”
As bad as Priscilla wanted to bust out laughing, she didn’t. The situation was too serious, but she couldn’t help but to find a bit of humor in the matter.
“That’s it? That’s your plan?”
Jennifer attempted to keep a straight face, but Priscilla’s smirk made it impossible.
“I’m sayin’, it’s a start.”
They laughed together.
“A start?” Priscilla said. “You had a whole month to think about what the plan was and this is what you came up with?”
Jennifer tried to convince her. “I’m tellin’ you, I know it can work.”
“I guess it’s gonna have to work.” she replied, finishing her drink. “It’s the only thing I got right now. So what about the other thing?”
“Oh, he said he wants to meet wit’ you tomorrow afternoon, in the city.”
The next morning, Priscilla rose out of bed as the fulgent sun ascended into the crisp luminous sky. A cool autumn breeze brushed by her face and the flute like chirping of a House Sparrow sitting on the sill reminded her of how fortunate she was.
Her feet touched the lush two thousand dollar carpet and she got down on her knees, clasped her hands together, and bowed her head in prayer.
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. Amen.”
The door opened shortly after she finished. Jennifer sashayed into the room, wearing just panties and a bra, holding a tray with a plate of food and a glass of orange juice.
Her body was amazing. She had a permanent tanned complexion that gave her a glow, long, dirty blonde hair, a nice handful of breasts and an ass like a Brazilian porn star.
“Good mornin’, sleeping beauty.” she giggled. “I wanted you to awake to a surprise, but you’re already up, so here you go.” She passed the tray to Priscilla and pulled the curtain on the window to let more light in.
Priscilla sat at the edge of the Queen sized bed with the tray on her lap, staring down at the food, trying to figure out how Jennifer knew everything she liked.
Turkey bacon.
French toast.
One fried egg, a bowl of diced fruit and fresh squeezed orange juice.
“Are you a physic or somethin’?” she joked, picking the fork up.
“Why you say that?”
“Because, everything on this plate is my favorite.”
“Really? This is my breakfast every morning.” Jennifer picked up the remote, pushed power, and the 50 inch flat screen television mounted to the wall lit up.
Priscilla finished off the bowl of fruit. “Not to be in your business or anything, but how the hell can you afford a place like this?”
Jennifer owned a one bedroom, townhouse style condo on North Main St. in East Hampton, Connecticut. The seven hundred square foot home had cathedral ceilings, a loft bedroom, jetted tub and a separate shower enclosure. At the time she bought it, Jennifer paid $110,000 cash, but with the renovations, it’s now worth well over $150,000.
She smiled at herself in the giant mirror attached to the sandalwood dresser. “Do it the right way,” she seductively licked her lips and then winked her eye when she saw Priscilla was watching. “And you can get anything you desire from a man.”
“Ill, nasty.”
“Shut up.” Jennifer tossed a scarf at Priscilla. “Don’t act like you ain’t never did somethin’ strange for some change.”
“Huh, haven’t we all.”
For Priscilla, it felt good to be able to laugh and enjoy the moment, because for the past few months she had been seeing more gloomy days than bright ones. The effects of her burdens were weighing heavy on her mentally. It was impossible to push aside her problems and act as if nothing was wrong, so she took responsibility for her actions and decided the only way things would change, was if she had a hand in changing them.
She got up to bring the dishes back into the kitchen, but didn’t get out the door.
“Oh shit, Priscilla look!” Jennifer turned the volume up on the television.
Haitian authorities say they seized six hundred and sixty pounds of cocaine from a hidden compartment on a private boat about fifty miles west of the capital city this morning. The three hundred kilograms have a wholesale value of three million dollars and a street value of over ten million. The seizure comes amid increasing pressure to bring an end to the drug smuggling in Haiti, which United States government believes is a main shipping point for Columbian cocaine bound for the states.
“Wow.” Jennifer’s eyes were glued to the television. “I wouldn’t even know what to do wit’ all them drugs.”
<
br /> Priscilla thought differently. She knew exactly what she would do with them and she also understood the ins and outs of the coke game. “Somebody’s gonna be really pissed today.”
“I bet they are.” Jennifer hit power and went to her closet to find some clothes to throw on. “Forget that, we got a nine o clock appointment at the hair dresser, and your meeting is at two.”
“Hair dresser?”
“Yup, I’ma have my girl, Vee, at the shop hook you up. Watch, you gon’ love it.”
Two hours later, Priscilla stood in front of the full body mirror at the back of the beauty salon in a stupefied gaze, trying to figure out who was the person staring back at her. “Oh-my-God, look at my hair.” she reached back and felt the long, silky weave that was sewn into her roots.
Jennifer was probably the most excited. “I told you she was the best! Oohh, you hooked her up!” she examined Priscilla’s new hair. “This is really nice. I might have to get mine done like this.” she laughed. “How much do I owe you Vee?”
“Eight hundred.”
Jennifer peeled off ten one hundred dollar bills and handed them to Vee. “Enjoy the rest of your week, Vee. I’ll be in next week so you can trim my edges.”
When they got back into the car, Priscilla was still in shock. “Eight hundred dollars, Jennifer? Damn.”
“It’s a lil’ pricey, but it’s worth it. That Indian hair is the best you can get. Don’t worry about it, that was my gift to you; now we gotta hurry up. You only got an hour before your meeting.”
Priscilla was so wrapped up in the way her hair looked, that the meeting had slipped her mind. “Oh shoot, the meeting! What am I gonna wear?”
“That’s hot on you!” Jennifer complimented as Priscilla fixed the straps on her rose petal colored, convertible Jersey gown.
“One strap or two?” she asked.
“I think you should go wit’ the two.” Jennifer answered. “I’ll meet you downstairs in the car.”
Priscilla gazed at her reflection in the mirror and thought about how far she’d come. All the drudgery she had put herself through prepared her for what she was about to encounter. It was like the turning of a page to a new chapter in her life. A clean slate, a fresh start; a brand new beginning.
She fixed the straps on her shoulders and went downstairs to meet Jennifer in the car.
On the drive to Manhattan, Priscilla was antsy and impatient, but truly excited about attending her meet. If everything went as expected, she could end up in a prominent position; a space that she hadn’t been accustomed to in a long time.
Jennifer slowed up and pulled to the curb at 190 Sullivan Street. “This is the place.” she said, reaching into her purse. She handed Priscilla a cell phone. “If you need anything, just call me. My number is already programmed.”
Priscilla got out the car and walked past the four tables outside and entered the restaurant.
A short, overweight Spanish guy behind the bar greeted her. “Hola, senora. Welcome to Salon de Tapas.”
A small, candle lit diner located in a well-trodden section of Manhattan, Salon de Tapas is beloved for its prompt service, wide variety of tapas, and reasonable pricing.
The six small tables with burning candles along the brick wall were all vacant.
Priscilla took a seat at the last table, about fifteen feet away from the kitchen, and she waited. After thirty-five minutes, she made up her mind to leave. She got up and started to call Jennifer.
“You leaving already?”
Before she took her eyes off the phone, she recognized the voice. It was one she could never forget. That familiar scent she knew all too well tickled her nose and made her smile inside.
“It’s been a long time, Juan Carlos.” She took a step forward and reached out to shake his hand.
His appearance hadn’t changed much at all. He was still the tall pretty boy with the curly black hair, gold Cuban link chain, and chipped tooth.
“You look beautiful.” He said, removing his $4,000 Brioni dinner jacket.
When he took his seat, he picked up the menu, and the glare from the light above hit one of the flawless diamonds in his pinky ring.
“I see you still livin’ a lucrative lifestyle.”
“Everything you see is not always what it appears to be.” he replied.
“Here you go wit’ your philosophies.”
Juan Carlos looked over the menu while he continued to talk. “You know how this business is, Priscilla. You get respect when you attain a certain level of success, and even then, that respect is short lived. Those who once respected you now become jealous and envious of you, and depending on the situation, they may even have bad blood towards you. There’s always somebody that wants your spot, so don’t ever forget that.” He looked up into Priscilla’s eyes. “Ain’t no time to get complacent in this business. It’s all about your next move.”
The waiter approached their table. “Are you ready to order, sir?”
“I’ll just have a seltzer water with some fresh lime please, and the television remote control. Priscilla, are you hungry?”
“No, I’m fine. I do need your help though.”
He smiled. “That’s funny. I need your help too.”
Not long after, the waiter returned and placed the glass of seltzer water and a plate with fresh, sliced lime next to Juan Carlos. “Here’s the remote, sir.”
“I already know what you need,” he said to Priscilla. “I’ve been in this game long enough. I can see it in your eyes, but in order for you to get what you want, I’m going to need you to take care of something for me.” He dug in his inside pocket and pulled out a picture.
“Who is she?” Priscilla looked at the salt and pepper haired woman.
“La Capitana. she’s in charge of the second biggest cocaine distribution ring in the U.S., and by far, the most ruthless bitch on the face of this earth. She was once a business partner of mine, but the stipulations of our venture weren’t to her liking, so she decided to play for the other team.” Juan Carlos hit a button on the remote, and the television that was mounted to the wall on the other side of the diner came on. He flicked through the channels until he found what he was looking for. “Have you seen this?”
It was the same breaking news story she had watched at Jennifer’s house.
“I saw it this mornin’”
“Three hundred birds, Priscilla.” He shook his head and then rubbed his face with his hand. “There’s no way I can let this go uncontested.”
“And where do I come in?”
“I need someone outside of my people for this.”
“And so you choose me?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were capable of getting it done. Besides, Mox owes me.” Juan Carlos grinned and winked his eye at Priscilla. “You want something. I want something. If we work together, I’m pretty sure we can come to an agreement that would benefit all parties involved.”
Priscilla was in awe of his proposition. “You askin’ me to take somebody’s life, Juan Carlos. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“When a general sends his troops into battle do you think for one second he’s not aware of the capabilities of his soldiers?” he picked a lime up and squeezed the juice into his water. “He’s absolutely cognizant of their abilities, Priscilla. This is why he is the general. It’s all about catching your enemy off guard. No matter how well thought out the plan is, you can never account for the element of surprise.”
“Yeah, but what if it doesn’t go right. Then what?”
I would never lead you into something that I thought you weren’t qualified for, Priscilla. It’s only as difficult as you make it. I got everything set up. All you have to do is show up and execute the plan.”
“Show up and execute the plan, huh?” Priscilla sat back and a look of hostility came over her face.
She knew there was no other option. She had gone every route she could possibly go, and time was something that was not on her s
ide. A decision had to be made, and it had to be made quickly.
Juan Carlos looked at Priscilla and raised his eyebrow. He didn’t even wait for her answer. He just got up, wrote a phone number on a napkin and walked out of the diner.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A light drizzle fell from the dark colored sky as the churchgoers filed out of the chapel. All the smiling faces were an indication of the good word from Rev. Miguel Diaz, who was the congregation’s senior pastor for the last ten years at the Bronx Spanish Evangelical Church.
The Union II Page 11
