“Oh, I think you will.” He opened the door of his car for me, and I shot him a smirk before slipping in.
“I want to ask you something, but before I do, I want to let you know that you’re not obligated to say yes. I am not that guy who acts stupid when he doesn’t get what he wants,” Kito explained once he was in the car. “I’m not gonna go crazy and try to get you fired or anything like that.” He chuckled sexily. That chocolate skin, bright white smile, and those slanted eyes were giving me the blues in a good way.
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Since you did so well for a first timer, I was wondering if you’d allow me to take you to dinner tonight. It’s Friday, and we don’t work tomorrow, so I thought it’d be perfect.”
I lowered my lids with a closed mouth smile, which in turn made him grin. I didn’t know if I was ready to drum something up just yet, since whatever I had with Qamar took its toll on me, but hey, it was just dinner. And Kito didn’t rub me as the type of man to get angry if I told him I didn’t want anything serious, or even semi-serious.
“Sure, why not.”
“Cool.” He nodded before cranking up and backing out.
This would be interesting.
***
Later that night …
“Do you have a picture you can send?” Draylah asked, referring to Kito.
“Girl, no, I wish. He doesn’t use social media and stuff like that. At least I don’t think he does. I searched his name and nothing came up.”
“Hmm, well he sounds fine as hell.”
“Fuck you in there whispering to?” I heard Ricky hiss, prompting me to cover my mouth so I could muffle my laughter. “That better be a muthafucka from State Farm.”
“Ricky!” Draylah laughed.
I heard some rustling, and then, “Hello?”
“Hi, Ricky.” I giggled.
“Oh,” was all he said before handing the phone back to Draylah.
Once she got back on, we both doubled over in laughter at Ricky’s crazy ass.
We talked a little more, and then I got off with her so I could do my makeup. As soon as I finished, I heard my mother talking to someone at the front door. Lately, she’d been doing a little better with getting out of bed and walking around, but the doctors said she had maybe a year and a half left. I tried not to think about it. They wanted to keep her in the hospital but she refused.
“Ma, who is…” I didn’t finish my sentence when my mother stepped back some, wearing a scowl, because I could see Qamar standing at the door holding his usual peacemaker: flowers. I swear this fool needed to get a new game plan. “It’s fine, Mama, I will get rid of him.”
“You’d better because I may be ill, but I can still whoop some ass,” she muttered as she walked off towards the kitchen.
“What’s up?” I said to Qamar.
“Oh, well first, these are for you.” He reached the flowers out to me. I took a deep breath, staring up into his eyes, and then I took them.
“Thanks.”
Furrowing his brows, he asked, “You going somewhere? You got ya makeup on and shit, I see.”
“Actually, yeah, I’m going on a date tonight, so if you’d be so kind as to let me know what you came here for, I can get back to getting ready.”
“Right, umm…” I could tell he was thrown off by the fact that I was going on a date, but he honestly shouldn’t have been. How many ways and times did I have to tell him I was finished with him? “I just came to see you pretty much. Can I chill while you get ready?”
“You want to chill with me while I get ready to go out with another man?” I laughed.
“Well?”
“Fine, I guess.” I moved back and held the door open so he could come in. Only reason I was allowing him to was because it was obvious he was on the straight and narrow. He wasn’t high and his mood was normal, so he must have been medicated.
Qamar followed me back to my bedroom, and I closed the door before sitting back down at my vanity. I needed to put the finishing touches on my makeup. Draylah had done my brows and lashes earlier, and the way she did my brows didn’t call for me to add anything to them. I honestly couldn’t wait until she came out with her own brow products.
“So uh, who is this nigga you getting all ready for and shit?”
“A friend, Qamar.” I put my lipstick on. My paychecks were nothing to shake a stick at, so I was able to purchase a new vanity mirror with lights all around it. It felt good to be able to pay bills, the rent, and buy myself things.
“A friend,” he repeated with a chuckle. “You ain’t ever got this dressed up for my ass.”
“Where have you taken me, Qamar?” I glanced his way. “You took me on one date, which didn’t call for makeup, and that’s it.”
“You right.” He exhaled heavily. “Aight, so when can I take you out then? Shit, I can take you somewhere nice too.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I go on a date with you, you will assume that means we can be together, and we can’t.”
“Bia, I have changed, baby, can’t you see that? And I’m going to therapy, and I have a drug counselor to keep me right. The way I was before, that shit ain’t gon’ happen again!”
“And that’s great, Qamar, but who knows how long that will last? Maybe if you showed that this would be a longtime thing, I would think about it. You have to realize that you’d be starting from scratch. What I felt for you before has vanished completely.” I got up from my vanity.
“I don’t mind, Bia.” He stood up. “You gon’ see that I got my shit together, and then I’m gon’ take yo’ ass out, and we gon’ build some shit that wasn’t like before.” He took my hands into his as he looked down at me, and I gave him an insincere half smile that he noticed. “What’s that face for?”
“Nothing, Qamar, that sounds great,” I replied dryly.
“Nah, tell me.”
After contemplating for a few moments if I should say anything, I decided to just be honest.
“I can’t imagine a good future with you, and because of that, I can’t get excited or joyful at the thought of us getting back together.”
“A good future? Fuck you mean you don’t see a good future?” He dropped my hands.
“Meaning, when I think about us being married and with kids some years down the line, I don’t see happiness. I see lonely nights for me, you being up one day and down the other, going off about the smallest things, acting like a little boy when you don’t get your way, treating me like shit when you want to, and then trying to use flowers and smooth words as a Band-Aid; the list goes on. It’s actually frightening to think about, Qamar. When I decide to spend the rest of my life with someone, I want it to be with a person that I trust. I don’t expect perfection, but I don’t expect turmoil either.”
I knew there were plenty of women who married men that seemed great only for them to be horrible. But at least they didn’t know, and entered into something they assumed would be bliss. How foolish would I be to marry a man that I’ve already seen be horrible? At the moment, a relationship with Qamar and I would be ill fated. It began rocky and stayed that way the entire time. Not to mention, I didn’t feel anything for him anymore.
“Fuck,” he replied and plopped down on my bed.
“And what you did to Nadine … Qamar, it’s hard for me to even care for you at this point. You can blame it on cocaine or lack of medication or whatever will help you justify your actions, but at the end of the day, you chose to stop taking your medication, and you chose to pretend like you didn’t have a cocaine habit. You didn’t care that you’d done horrible shit to people because of those choices either, you just continued down that path carelessly, thinking you could do whatever the hell you wanted as long as you apologized a week later. And unfortunately, baby, that is not someone I want to be with.”
I didn’t want to tell him this, but it was the honest to God truth. Right here in this moment, I had no feelin
gs for this man. He used to be able to get me because I saw he was troubled, but not anymore. He was old enough to start taking action, but he decided to be foolish instead. He could be the next bitch’s problem.
“Bia! I’m Qamar! Aight?” He slapped his chest and looked me up and down. Typical. “You know I could have any bitch I want, but I’m here right now, begging yo’ ass!”
“And I am telling you not to, Qamar! Do you think telling me you could have any woman you want will change my mind? I’m not saying this to teach you some sort of lesson; I am being honest with you. I don’t want to be with you, Qamar, you don’t make me happy at all! I have nothing to miss about you because 80% of our time together was stressful as hell for me! Weren’t you present through it all?”
He exhaled. “You right, I—”
Just then, I heard the doorbell, so I went to get it. I saw it was Kito, looking good as hell out of his business attire. We stood there smiling at one another for a little bit, until I heard Qamar walk up behind me.
“Oh, is this your brother?” Kito quizzed with a shady grin as Qamar stepped out onto the porch, looking Kito up and down.
“No, this is a friend, Kito. But come on in. All I have to do is fix my hair really quickly.” I gave Qamar a look as Kito stepped inside. “Goodnight, Qamar.”
“Goodnight,” he replied stalely as hell as he made his way to his car. He was salty right now.
“Ex?” Kito laughed as he sat down on the couch, before I closed the door.
“Kind of, I’m sorry.”
“No worries.” He smiled.
I finished my hair, and then I introduced Kito to my mother and Taya. They hit it off, which I wasn’t surprised by because that’s just the type of guy Kito was; he literally got along with everyone without being a kiss ass. He was so laid back and easy going, which was a big difference from Qamar. I enjoyed that.
Kito and I left out, and he took me to this restaurant named The Grill in Beverly Hills, right across from where Niketown used to be. He had a reservation, so we were seated immediately, and then we both ordered Patrón margaritas, and then the steak with jumbo shrimp and lobster mashed potatoes.
“How is it?” Kito inquired as we scarfed our food down.
“So good. I don’t think I’ve ever had a steak this tender.” I shook my head before shoving another piece into my mouth.
“I honestly can’t believe you’re single. It makes me worry a little bit.” Kito squinted his eyes playfully as he sipped his margarita.
“No, I’m not crazy or anything, so relax.” I laughed. “I just had a broken picker for a minute, but I think it’s fixed now.”
“Oh yeah?” He cheesed sexily.
“Most definitely.”
“Cool.” He cut into his steak, and my eyes were glued to his strong arms. I was way too horny, but tonight wasn’t the night. Kito and I were just friends ... just friends.
“But you’re single too, so should I be worried?” I sipped my margarita.
“Nah, you shouldn’t be. Honestly, I’ve been in relationships in the past, but I was too focused on work to really put in all that damn effort. My mom and I grew up hella poor, so I’ve always been focused on making sure I had the means to take care of us. Now that shit has come together for me though, I can make that time for a woman.”
“What’d you do before this?”
“I uh, was in the street pharmacy business,” he smirked. I knew he was a hood nigga underneath it all, and I can’t say I was mad.
“Like a dope boy?”
Squinting his eyes with that sexy smile of his he replied, “A little higher than that, but nothing too crazy.”
“Excuse me,” I grinned. “Well it’s nice to know you have time for women now. I’m definitely glad I started focusing on my career more. I was way too caught up in something that only brought toxic vibes.”
“Yeah, Guinevere told me you were having some hard times at home. I’m happy to see shit looking up for you though.” He sipped his drink. “And I’m only here to add to that shit, not take away from it.”
Smiling, I replied, “I know. I love your vibe.”
“I fuck with yours a little bit too.”
“Oh wow, only a little bit?”
“Yeah, I gotta see what else you about. You can’t just be sexy as fuck and expect to get my heart and some dick.”
I burst into laughter and then snapped my fingers as if I were bummed.
“Guess I have to find a new approach.”
“Most definitely.” He smiled, mocking my words from earlier.
M.M.M.
Chapter Four: Micah
One week later …
“Thank you for verifying your information, Mr. Gaines. How can I help you today?”
“No problem. Uh, I need to close out the joint account, please.”
“Alright, I can do that for you,” the guy replied, and I heard him typing quickly as hell on his keyboard.
“And the money in the account, you can just go ahead and transfer that to the checking with just my name on it please.”
“The money in this account?”
“Yeah, the money in that account,” I repeated, frowning hard because I didn’t understand what the fuck he didn’t understand.
“Mr. Gaines, there is less than a dollar in this account, and for transfers, it needs to be a minimum of $10. If you’d like—”
“Wait, hold up. Less than a dollar? How much is in the fucking account?” I hissed, feeling my damn stomach drop. I kept that account with a minimum of $300,000 just for Isla’s ass to have. It being less than a damn dollar was beyond me at the moment.
“The exact amount is seventy-three cents, Mr. Gaines. So like I was saying, if you do want that, you’d have to come down and make a withdrawal.”
Closing my eyes temporarily and taking a deep breath, I replied, “Okay, when umm, when did the money get taken out?”
“Last week. The other person on the account, Miss Isla Tyree, removed the funds from the account. It was a large sum, so we did have to do some paperwork and place a week hold on the withdrawal, but it was officially removed last Wednesday. Is there a problem?”
“How the hell did y’all let her do that shit?”
“Mr. Gaines, this is a joint account. And it says here when it was opened, that Miss Tyree was made the primary, so technically, this is her account with you as an addition.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I mumbled to myself, running my hands down my face. “Aight, well that was my damn money, so y’all need to get my shit back.”
“Unfortunately, we cannot do that.”
“You’d better! She got my damn money!”
“Mr. Gaines, did you put the money into the account willingly?” his flamboyant ass had the nerve to ask me. I could tell he was one of them smart mouthed ass gay dudes. I never argued with their asses because you couldn’t win.
“Obviously!”
“Okay then, there is nothing we can do. Miss Tyree, nor the bank forced you to fund this account, that you knew you were not a primary on. If you need those funds back, I suggest you get with Miss Tyree and attempt to work something out.”
“Thanks for nothing.”
“Have a good day, Mr. Gaines,” his smart aleck ass said in a smug way.
“This some bullshit!” I hollered after hanging up. I shot up off of my bed, and began pacing my bedroom angrily.
This bitch Isla was doing the fucking most right now. She had me ready to choke her ass, and shit, maybe the only reason I hadn’t was because she was carrying my damn baby. Michael may not have been mine, but the one in her stomach was, so we needed to figure some shit out.
After calming myself down, I grabbed my keys off my dresser and started down the stairs. I felt my phone ringing in my pocket, and when I retrieved it, I saw it was Kattlyn. Sucking my teeth, I hit decline and shoved my phone back into my pocket. I had no interest in entertaining another Isla. Shit, at least Isla wasn’t a damn professional hoe. I sh
ook my head at the fact that my life had blown up so damn quickly. Just last year, I had a family, and now I barely had a kid.
The homie Butch let me know that Isla had a photo-shoot for some men’s magazine, so I was about to pop up there. She wouldn’t give me her phone number or address, and when I hit her on Instagram for it, the bitch blocked my ass so quickly that for a minute, I thought the app was just broken.
The shoot was in Santa Monica, and around this time, the early afternoon, it wasn’t too much traffic. By saying that, I got there in no time. I pulled my Maserati into the back parking lot, and swooped into an empty park before hopping out.
“MG, how are you?” the security blocking the door smiled.
“I’m aight. Uh, look, I need to get in there so I can talk to my baby mama. You know Isla.”
He looked down to check his clipboard and nodded.
“Yeah, she’s here, but I don’t know if I can let you in. I have to call it in and find out.” He pressed a button on his headgear.
He was annoying me, but I responded, “Aight, thanks.”
“No one is answering right now. I’m gonna let you in since we’re cool, but don’t cause any problems.” He opened the door for me.
“I got you.” I stepped inside of the building, and I could hear rap music playing and smelled weed. The shit was loud as hell; the weed smoke that is.
I followed the sound of the music into a larger room where there were a lot of workers, including photographers and set people. When I came in, this one guy with a headset had his eyes on me, so I approached him first.
“Hey uh, where is Isla Tyree?”
“She’s in the back getting her makeup done, can I help you with something?” the scrawny white dude inquired as he adjusted his clipboard.
“I need to speak with her.”
“Okay, well go right through the back. Please don’t take long because she has to be out here in twenty minutes.”
I made my way out back, and when I spotted the trailer with Isla’s name, I ran a little bit until I got there. I knocked lightly, and after a few seconds, someone came and opened the door.
“Yes?” Some Black chick frowned down at me.
She Got It Bad for a Heartless Gangsta Page 10
