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by Nicety


  It did not take her long to cop the money in her line of work. She scheduled a meeting with Drew to cop in no time. He sent for her by car to her house to pick her up at night. The limo’s back windows were so dark that she could barely see what the hell they were driving past. She sat in the car getting herself together for how she would approach Drew. She knew that by she was young he probably wouldn’t take her seriously and might have laughed in her face. Cocoa wasn’t prepared to except rejection nor did she want to.

  She aimed for the high shit and she was going to get it. Replaying the events yet to take place over and over in her head, she mumbled what she would say. The driver kept looking back at her examining what she was doing. When she noticed him she kept it to a minimum. She also replayed his credentials over and over in her head.

  Drew had been in the coke business since ’83 and had been considered hood rich. Little did anyone know, he was way more than that. Drew had a lot of shit lined up from coast to coast with his main set in the hood. Not many people had direct contact to him. If you wanted to cop some of his pure you would have to know somebody that knows somebody that knows him. Drew was also a retired lawyer. He mainly defended guilty drug dealers and murderers and helped them get off. He did not care.

  His motto was that everybody had a little evil in them its just nobody talked about it, especially him. Cocoa had even heard that Drew had a temper so much so that he cut off a guy’s hand that had came up short on his money $5. She was a bit terrified to meet this nigga but she had to do it. If she did not start trying to get more money than just penny pinching she risked losing the house and being homeless. That was something Cocoa was not about to accept or imagine getting used to.

  The car pulled up in front of this beautiful glass skyscraper in the middle of the downtown area. It was so nice being downtown because mostly business and rich people worked down there.

  Cocoa knew people lived down there but did not know anyone who had enough money for it. The buildings were elegantly glass made. They stood as tall as the moon and almost looked scary when gazing up at them. The downtown lights lit up the city like a Macy’s Christmas window. Cocoa had always wanted to go downtown but not to pick up drugs. There were so many activities to do downtown including shopping that she would have liked to do with her mother. Going on various trips down there on family outings with her would have made being broke all the more wild back then.

  The driver walked around and opened her door. As she stepped out she tilted her head up and gazed at how tall the building actually was. There was a doorman who opened the door for her as well. Cocoa wanted to get this shit over with and get back to the hood as quickly as possible. The thought of her being downtown made her feel out of place. The driver walked in with her to the elevator.

  “Take the elevator all the way to your left and you should be fine.” He said as he turned around and walked back out the door.

  Cocoa stepped in the elevator then reached to push the button. She saw there were only two floors on the entire button grid. One button read LOBBY and the other read PENT H. She figured there was nowhere to go but penthouse and pushed that button as the elevator doors closed.

  The ride up seemed to be a long one as she stood there waiting for the elevator to stop and open again.

  Cocoa looked around at the plush elevator feeling its splendor and realizing she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. It finally stopped and the doors flung open allowing Cocoa to step out into the wondrous penthouse. Cocoa turned around as the elevator doors closed again amazed at the fact that this nigga’s front door was an elevator.

  “Have a seat. I’ll be in shortly.”

  A voice rang loudly over the intercom startling her. She went over and sat down on one of the softest all white plush couches she had ever felt before. Cocoa looked around at all of Drew’s luxury and immediately wanted into this business for sure. There were crystals on the cocktail table she was sure were real. She started feeling the fabric of the couch and fell back to indulge in it. The ceiling had some sort of Godly like paintings on it like this nigga lived in a former museum.

  Cocoa heard footsteps and jumped up trying to act normal and sophisticated. She did not want this nigga to think she was too young to be selling to or figure she was too immature for the game. She fixed her tank top and shorts to look somewhat presentable and stood up awaiting the presence approaching her. The man walked right up and circled her examining her body from head to toe.

  “How old are you?” He asked licking his lips.

  Cocoa felt nasty. The man was old, far beyond any type she would consider. He had minimal gray hair but his skin showed he had to been through a war or two. His eyes were beady and his stomach protruded out like he had had too many beers in his day.

  The only thing that remotely enticed her was his clothes. He dressed like he was about to go to work on Wall Street or something to the like.

  “Does that matter? I mean no disrespect but as long as I got the dough that’s all you need to know right?” Cocoa tried not to sound ignorant towards him but she wanted him to know she was solely about business and remained firm.

  “Hmm. I like your style. Feisty little thing aren’t you? But you look like all woman to me.” The man walked over to the bar and made himself a drink.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “Naw, I don’t drink.”

  “Suit yourself.” He guzzled the drink down and slammed the glass on the counter.

  “Listen mister. If you ain’t the nigga I’m supposed to be doing business with then we ain’t got shit to talk about. I need to holla at the man in charge.”

  The man chuckled.

  “You are feisty. Well honey, the man that you are looking for is me. I’m Drew.”

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. I did not know…” Cocoa tried to pull her foot out of her mouth while Drew just stood there laughing.

  “It’s ok hon. Well if you wanna get down to business then we will.” Drew reached underneath the bar and pressed a button.

  “Here you go boss.” A half naked man said entering the room with only a G-String on and a white mask around his face to hand him a big clear Ziplock bag.

  “Alright you can go now.” Drew said peeping the way he was eyeing Cocoa. “You see nobody enters the work area without stripping first. I’d hate to have to cut ya. You know what I mean?”

  Cocoa laughed and walked up to the bar to receive the package. Drew never cracked a smile though.

  “What’s the price?” She asked looking at the half an ounce like it was a mouthwatering plate of cheeseburger with fries.

  “For you…and that sexy ass body….$300.” He replied sitting the cocaine down on the bar.

  Cocoa was ecstatic. She now had extra money to buy food with and did not have to wait until her product sold to get any. Then she took a minute and thought about the benefits of having more to sell and getting more money. She slapped all of her money on the counter and looked him dead in the eye.

  “Cool. Now I want an 8 ball then.”

  “Excellent choice.”

  It was as if Drew had set that up already just to see how thirsty Cocoa was, how hungry she was to get this money out here in the streets.

  “You know what? Because I like you so much, I’m going to let you keep all of your earnings. You just make sure you come and re-up with me and everything is cool. For now.”

  “What’s the “for now”?”

  Drew cut his eyes at her then on his alcohol as he went behind the bar to fix another drink.

  “Well when you make it big, and you will ‘cause I will help you, the rules change.”

  Cocoa was excited to hear that he would help her that she did not even bother to ask anything else. She just did not want to live like a squatter anymore hustling for change on the street. She felt dirty and fucked up in the head knowing muthafuckas was talking about her and feeling sorry for her. It was aggravating and beyond embarrassing. She felt
like a bum being on the street like that. If there was the possibility that she could live like Drew, she was going to take it. He lived too rich for words.

  While Drew stood there sipping on his second drink, he signaled for the next package by phone this time. The naked guy brought the package and this time Drew signaled to hand it directly to her. She snatched it almost from the guy, so anxious.

  “Hey can I have a bag or something to put this in?”

  She asked holding the coke in her hands. Drew gave her a nasty look then walked in a room and returned with a backpack.

  “Next time come prepared.” He said as he threw the bag at her. Cocoa was a little distraught by it but pushed passed it.

  Cocoa touched the elevator button to leave. She turned around to thank Drew but he was gone. When she got downstairs the car was sitting there waiting to take her back home.

  She gets in and tries to roll down the window to get a glimpse of the way home so she can pinpoint how to get to his crib herself, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Excuse me. Can you roll down the window?”

  The driver rolled up the privacy window without responding.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  After a few months, Cocoa had gotten the hang of the whole dope game. She would re-up every week with Drew almost like clockwork. Cocoa would bag her shit up so sweet that she would sell out of her batches in one night. She did not go home until every last bag was gone. The last crack head that came to get product from her was there twenty minutes before and loved it so much that he had to get some more. Cocoa had two bags left and decided to throw the nigga both bags for the one.

  “Damn girl. Didn’t you just re-up this morning?” Drew asked frantically.

  “Yeah but I’m out and need some more. Is that a problem?” Cocoa was mad cocky.

  “Ay, look. I’m gon’ give you my personal number. Nobody really has this number so you should consider yourself lucky.” He pulled a white card from his inside jacket pocket. “Anytime, eh.” He told her.

  Cocoa shook her head and moved on. She knew this had proved to him that she was in and wasn’t letting up for nobody.

  Crack heads were coming at her left and right for some work. Some came with the short on the ends and she took it. Some came with the change and she took it. Cocoa knew that a happy customer was a customer forever so she made sure that those fiends kept coming back. She never sold out of her house but always under the viaduct where the bangers could protect her if need be.

  Cocoa would hustle all on her own. At the time, she figured she had the manpower to handle her business alone. She wanted to be a loner, not needing virtually anyone or their help. She would keep people out of her business by living by the don’t ask don’t tell law. ****

  Chapter 6- The Trade

  Cocoa’s thriving business started to get so crazy after a while that she recruited the bangers off the block to guard her crib every now and then for a little more dough than what their chief was paying them. Soon after that she recruited some of the weed dealers that were too afraid to cop from Drew. They had to of course include their earnings of the weed in with her money for payout. Cocoa left no stone unturned and remained in control of the situation at all cost. She showed those guys who was boss and made sure to always stand her ground or get crazy when muthafuckas tested her authority and got out of pocket.

  Cocoa wasn’t done with her dynasty though. Every time she copped from Drew she was all in his business trying to absorb as much as she could and process it for her own fulfillment.

  “Hey honey what’s that meeting about up North? Can I go?” She would ask.

  Drew felt the need to take her sometimes but other things were none of her business.

  “Naw, baby. This is just for the big boys today. Okay?”

  Her pouty face would work often and he’d give in and take her along.

  She had learned so many things that by the time she was 20 years old she had formed a complete business. Cocoa was also one of the hottest young bitches in the hood. She was medium height, with really long black flowing hair and a smile that could kill. There were very few bitches around that had a banging body that they did not have kids to get. Cocoa wasn’t a weave head bitch either. She couldn’t understand the need to glue or sew tracks to hair that you could grow out of your scalp.

  She made enough money to foot the bills and mortgage and to hook her place up. She had black leather couches and 50” screen HDTV’s hanging on the walls in every room. Her dining room furniture was Victorian inspired and there was a China cabinet that displayed her crystal and fine silverware. She had always appreciated the finer things and figured these things would make her appear upscale to everyone in the hood. Cocoa had the kitchen remodeled with granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances. She had a camera system all around her house and a special room for surveillance that only she was allowed into. No one dared try to enter the room because she kept pieces all around the house for such specific occasions.

  She would easily shut a nigga down even though she never busted a piece a day in her life. Its purpose was mainly to check a nigga real quick. Cocoa rocked all of the new new shit. When clothes, purses, or shoes hit the streets she had to have them first. She had a thing for all of the latest brands and styles. Her closet was overstocked with expensive Fendi, Prada, and Gucci.

  She found her self almost consumed by her brands. She had to have her Italian leather shoes and her silk dresses. Cocoa even bought Gucci bra and panties. She liked the way her ass swayed in expensive underwear. Her feet rocked nothing less than a stiletto heel. Anything else was totally uncivilized. She felt her feet were too beautiful to put gym shoes on them. There was no such thing as being broke to her. She bought whatever came to mind.

  At the top of the stairs in the hallway she had a special compartment designed specifically for hiding a safe where she kept all of her money. Cocoa was saving money for a new life outside of the hood. She wanted to run the business from afar to get away from the hood and everything it had to offer. Niggas was getting killed left and right in the hood. She knew it was only a matter of time before some bastard with balls decided he was going to try and take what she had worked so hard for. So her dream, in her eyes, had to become a reality, by any means necessary very soon.

  When her business got big enough, Cocoa paid to have the outside of the house remodeled with storm windows and doors and had the basement finished. There was a bar in the basement big enough for a high-end club with three stripper poles and pool tables. Even though Cocoa had a bar she tried to reframe from drinking as best as she could, but somehow alcohol kept on calling her. Smoking was out of the question. She couldn't even stand the smell of anything of a smoky nature.

  Seeing her mother become a loser drug addict she knew she did not want that for herself. So she made sure she stayed on top of her dope game and kept her head out of the drug scene with a clean and sober body.

  Cocoa had recruited a small army of hoes and foot soldiers as well. She recruited the foot soldiers to do the little small time hustling on the street they couldn’t sell weight. Her foot soldiers did the nickel and dime job of the game that those niggas did not want to do. They would be on every corner in Central City making sure nobody came in on their set and tried to sell their shit. The finest coke and weed money could buy was sold on those corners. And she had a quota that these niggas had to make too, so they were damn well on the grind.

  They reported back to Cocoa at the end of the night to make a drop and would be paid only if they did not come up short that day. Cocoa would use her dining room as a meeting place for the drop off. There would be bangers with big ass pieces sitting at the table and she had a money counter placed on the table. Cocoa trusted her bangers by now. They were always loyal and never steered her wrong out of all the years they had worked for her. She paid them well.

  The hoes she had, made good money in her ready-made basement strip joint. Every Frida
y and Saturday nights was “Bangin’ Pussy Nights” where she had a variety of her hoes dance for tips. Cocoa’s plethora of badass bitches made her top dollar. These hoes had big perky tits and fat asses that made niggas drool their mouths off. They gave her most of the money and never complained because they knew she would get in that ass. But she took care of her hoes. Whatever they needed she took care of it, from bills to clothes to food for the kids, she took care of it.

  “Shake that ass girl. Make that motherfucking money.”

  That was her way of encouraging the hoes.

  “You like this mami?” One of the girls asked.

  “Naw bitch shake that ass harder than that.”

  All the niggas in the hood had much love for her and watched her back in any situation mostly because they had watched her grow up while growing up with her. They also liked the fact that she was a down ass bitch who was willing to do business with a bogus ass nigga like Drew.

  The only person who knew anything about Drew’s operation was Cocoa. Drew had allowed her to sit under his wing so of course part of him rubbed off on her. But not in the way that he had hoped seeing as though he wanted her for himself. He made sure she paid very close attention so she could be successful, but ultimately figured she would repay him in fondness.

  As time went on, he helped her establish her own work in the hood. Since Drew got her started in the business without taxing her at first, now he demanded half of her earnings from any source she had. He felt that she was too hungry not too let her businesses strive past his and he did not appreciate that thought. She was able to provide for herself and pay her dues without straining her pockets, so he expected his cut. Drew’s half had to be hand delivered by her every week.

  Sometimes Drew would start feeling himself so hard that he would approach Cocoa for sex hoping to get lucky when she came to deliver the dough. She would always decline.

  “Hey, you think you ready for some of this daddy dick girl?”

 

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