Thug Lovin'

by Wahida Clark

  Marvin let out a long whistle as they pulled up to the offices of Li, Hammerstein and Burke. The complex held eight office buildings six stories high, two each to the north, south, east and west according to the type of service. The outside was ultramodern, complete with landscaped layouts, glass and marble exteriors, beautiful atrium gardens, fountains, waterfalls and marble and granite statues. The men marveled at the building’s layout and were shocked that all the buildings belonged to one law firm, the Li, Hammerstein and Burke legal team. Trae had never seen anything like this before.

  “Damn. They doin’ it big. The whole complex is nothing but lawyers? And all of them are on Li’s payroll?” asked Trae.

  “Sheeit. ‘Big’ ain’t the word. It’s enough lawyers up in this bitch to get a nigga a not-guilty verdict on trial with the feds,” Marvin added.

  “Yeah, I told y’all these people were major. What? Y’all thought I was bullshittin’, didn’t y’all? Every one of these buildings house lawyers that specialize in something for Li, Hammerstein and Burke. This whole layout is them. This is money on another level. You thought you was gettin’ it in the streets, fuckin’ with these cats they gonna have you Donald Trump rich,” Stephon swore.

  They walked in silence as they stepped into the softly lit foyer. The walls of the plush leather waiting area displayed very expensive artwork. They stepped onto the round glass elevator. “Awww, we gotta put one of these here in the club,” Trae marveled at the elevator as the glass doors smoothly slid shut and it took them up to the top floor.

  They stepped off the elevator just as Charli Li was walking by.

  “Ms. Li,” Stephon greeted her with a gentle handshake.

  “Stephon, how many times have I told you to call me Charli?” Her four-foot four-inch frame was swallowed up inside Stephon’s embrace.

  “Charli, this is Trae Macklin and Marvin Blackshear.”

  “Pleased to meet you both.” She lightly squeezed both of their hands. “Let me drop off these files right here. It will only take two minutes. Stephon, you know where the conference room is. Feel free to help yourselves to the refreshments.”

  “Not a problem.” They all watched her sashay away.

  “She got some black in her?” Trae was actually surprised.

  “She’s Jamaican and Chinese,” Stephon clarified for him.

  “That sounds like a dangerous combination and damn the bitch reeks of money. But yo, she is too fine to be named Charles,” Marvin commented.

  “It’s Charli, not Charles,” Stephon corrected him.

  “Y’all on a first-name basis?” Trae noticed.

  Stephon blushed. “Naw, man. She on a first-name basis. I like to keep it professional. I think she be wanting some black dick though. Shit, my life is more important to me. Do you know who her pops is?” Stephon’s voice went down to a whisper. “Charles Li. The Chinese mobster in the flesh.”

  “Man, go ’head with that Hollywood bullshit, son,” Trae cracked and they all shared a laugh. On a serious note, Trae may have been laughing but he already had the office of Li, Hammerstein and Burke checked out. He wasn’t going to be shelling out millions of dollars without no real facts on these people and what he had found out was big. Hammerstein and Burke were both squares. But the infamous Mr. Charles Li, his nickname should have been Mr. Heroin. He too had gotten out of the game but was still a boss. Even though Mr. Li and they were cut from the same cloth, after Trae discussed his findings with Kaylin they had come to the conclusion that this was the next step up from the drug game. And it made them wonder if they would ever become one hundred percent legit.

  “She got enough money to buy all the black dick she wants too. Why would she want yours?” Marvin asked, still on the “black dick” comment.

  “You know how those spoiled rich bitches are. They know they got it like that and they’ll want it just because.”

  “Fuck it. If I was you, I’d trick with the bitch,” Trae said.

  “Naw, man. It ain’t worth it. You don’t want to fuck with her like that. Trust me. I’m telling you who her father is. Plus, I know bitches. She the type that gets a taste of the black dick and it’s over. You won’t be able to get rid of her. Listen to me, my brothers. If you want to keep your dick attached to your body and not stuffed in your mouth then don’t fuck with her.”

  They stepped into the conference room and it mirrored the rest of the building.

  “Check this out.” Stephon pushed a button and a wet bar came out of the wall.

  “Stephon loves to play with that,” Charli said as she stepped into the room. “Please have a seat, gentlemen. Unfortunately, I have a car on the way to get me for another meeting, so I need to get right down to business with the owner of that cable company. That would be with you, Mr. Macklin?” She took him in from head to toe.

  “Yes, that would be me.”

  “Great. And then I need to talk to everyone about the financing of the club. From what I understand everyone is ready to proceed?” All of the men said yes.

  “I am so excited for Stephon, that his dream is getting ready to be fulfilled. You guys don’t know how much he has been talking about this. Stephon and Mr. Blackshear, help yourselves to whatever is over there at the wet bar and the refrigerator. That guy there even knows where the secret button is for the big screen.”

  She was of course talking about Stephon. “Come. Follow me, Mr. Macklin. My office is right across the hall.” They headed out of the conference room. As they got seated in her office, Trae was surprised. From the reputation of Charli’s father, he still couldn’t get over the fact that she was mixed. Men of his caliber usually didn’t do the race mixing, unless it was on the down low. His eyes wandered over to the left of the wall to where the pictures were hanging. Her father was a Chinese man who resembled the Chinese actor Sammo Hung but was much taller. Her mother, Trae discovered, was Jamaican. Trae studied her picture and said to himself, Damn. She is fine. She puts the J in Jamaican. From the side he could see that her ass was bangin’. I wonder how Mr. Li got his little dick up in all that ass? Trae laughed to himself as he studied the picture. Charli resembles them both. Dark eyes like her father’s. Round nose like her mother’s. Smile like her father’s, but mouth like her mother’s. Head shaped like her father’s, hair her mother’s, long, curly and jet black. Thick hips and phat ass definitely her mother’s. Attitude probably from her as well.

  “Yes, those are my parents.” Charli’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

  “You don’t sound too pleased,” Trae commented.

  “I’m a mutt as my grandmother would say. Can I get you anything before we get started?” She quickly changed the subject.

  “No, I’m good.”

  She took a seat behind her huge mahogony and glass Donald Trump–style desk. It was accented with diamond corners. “The cable company that you want to sell is already done. We have four investors that are clamoring all over it. But what did Stephon tell you about the land deal that we are inviting you to invest in? That makes the cable company chump change.”

  Trae got comfortable in his seat. “I didn’t want to hear third-party information. I told him I needed to hear everything from you. And for starters, why should I get involved with this venture? Y’all talking sixteen million? That’s a lot of dough.”

  “Look at it like this. You’re getting thirteen from the sale of the cable company. You only need three million more.” The “three million” rolled off her toungue as if she had said “three hundred.” “You’ve got funds that you need to clean up and this is the fastest and best way to do it all at one time.”

  “Who told you that?” Trae got defensive. “And if I don’t like what you tell me, I’m outta here.”

  She liked his style and had to hold back a smile. “Mr. Macklin, just as you had us checked out, we did the same on our end. And it just so happens that this project requires this type of funding and that’s one of our specialties, matching buyers and sellers.”

 
She felt that she had said what he needed to hear and that he would not get up without sealing the deal. She had to admit that she was impressed. To date she had never met a black man like Trae. One who had some brains and some balls. It was always one or the other. She kept him talking and ended up rescheduling her next appointment. She could see that he was bullheaded, driven and focused just as much as her father. When he finished talking she came from behind her desk and began pacing the floor.

  “Glad to see you thought this out, Mr. Macklin.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Come on now. I’m not your average joe from off the streets. I’m sure Stephon told you that. So choose your words carefully.”

  “I apologize if I offended you. I’m not used to dealing with black men with balls and money.” She smirked.

  She grabbed a file off the table and handed it to him. She watched him as he flipped through its contents.

  Finally he said, “I have a meeting with my attorney next week. His name is Benny Brown. I have no idea what his schedule is. So is it okay if he sets up an appointment with you?”

  “Sure. Have him call my assistant, Jill. Here’s my card. Let me grab Club New York’s files and I’ll meet you back in the conference room.”

  Trae stood up and she watched this hell of a black man swagger out of her office.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Even though it was a weeknight, Stephon and Marvin came by Trae’s house. They called him and told him to be ready. They wanted to go by Club New York to check on the construction crew.

  “Ready to get to work?” Marvin asked, and winked at Trae.

  “I’m always ready to work,” Trae said.

  Tasha shot him a look that said, “Nigga, I know you don’t think you going out tonight!” And she caught Marvin’s wink.

  Stephon read her expression. “Y’all married niggas got too many restrictions for me. Can’t go there, can’t say this, and can’t say that! Y’all can’t do shit.”

  “Nigga, I’m the king of my castle. Tasha knows what it is. You see, she only looked all crazy but ain’t say shit. Give me a minute,” Trae told him.

  Tasha rolled her eyes at Trae and left them in the living room. In the blink of an eye Trae went upstairs, changed clothes and was out the door with Marvin and Stephon. They jumped into Stephon’s burgundy Escalade and were headed out of the driveway.

  “Ain’t that some shit,” Tasha snapped. “Nigga ain’t been home for an hour and already he’s gone,” she said to Marva.

  “Chile, please. You know what kind of man you got. And if you don’t get it out of your mind that Trae is going to settle down as if he has a nine to five and is no longer in the streets, you are going to be in for a rude awakening,” Marva told her. “All the business in the world won’t satisfy his craving for the streets. It’s in his blood. He is his father’s son. A born street nigga.” Marva didn’t give Tasha time to respond. She got up and left out of the family room.

  “Yo, where we going? This ain’t the way to our club,” Trae yelled over the Styles P lyrics Stephon was blasting.

  “I know. We got something special planned for you.” Stephon flashed him a devilish grin.

  Trae looked over at Marvin, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

  “Nigga, don’t act like you ignorant,” Trae told him.

  “Trae, for once, I want you to just chill out and go with the flow. Can you do that for me, man? You ain’t kicked it with the fellas in a minute. What’s up with that?” Marvin tried to ask with a straight face.

  Trae smiled. “Chill out? What the fuck you think I’ve been doing? You know. I’ve been doing the family thing.”

  “We know. That’s why we hookin’ you up, dawg,” Marvin said. “Shit, you got the keys to the club; you can see that anytime.”

  Trae sat back, cracked his window and marveled at the Los Angeles sky. Marvin passed him a blunt as Stephon navigated through traffic while talking on his cell. About forty minutes later they pulled up into a club called Spinners that was in the cut.

  “Trae, tonight is your night. Anything you want is on the house. This is my treat.” Stephon threw the Escalade in park and jumped out with Marvin right on his heels.

  “This is what y’all niggas be doing when I’m not around? Hanging at seedy-ass strip clubs?” Trae shook his head in mock disappointment.

  “Man, don’t hate. But at the same time don’t let the raggedy outside fool you. Now get yo’ doing-the-family-thing ass out of the car,” Stephon barked.

  “Steph, don’t let this nigga spin you. He’s only puttin’ on an act. Just in case you wanna run back and tell Tasha on him. This nigga is down for whatever.” Marvin put Trae on blast. The three of them walked up the rickety stairs.

  “Damn. Y’all couldn’t take me to a better place than this?” Trae cracked.

  “Nigga, I asked yo ass to chill out,” Marvin said as he knocked on the door.

  A small Cuban man opened the door, looked at the three of them and moved to the side. Stephon placed a few bills in his hand and kept walking to another set of winding stairs that were carpeted and led them to a steel door. Stephon pressed the buzzer three times and the steel popped open.

  A half smile appeared on Trae’s face as they stepped into the colorful club and he saw so many beautiful women. There were dark ones, light ones, Asian ones, Indian ones, Latina women, white women.

  “Damn, y’all. I take back what I said about y’all niggas earlier,” Trae apologized.

  “We not tryna hear that shit,” Marvin bellowed as he led Trae over to their VIP booth and took a seat.

  Stephon waved the waitress over, placed their drink order and then sat down. “I told you, boy. I got you,” he yelled over the music to Trae, who was checking out his surroundings. The club was crowded but not packed. Trae noticed that cats of all calibers were in attendance. There were thugs, ballers, business suits, nerds, geeks, even women who were trying their damnedest to look like men.

  Sitting back in the booth Trae surveyed the club. One cat caught his eye. Actually it was the dancer who was doing tricks with her ass that caught him off guard and caused him to look in that direction. He looked the dread head right in his face. “That’s the nigga that pulled me over the other day.”

  However, the dread head looked more like a baller than a cop this evening. He had about six honeys in his booth and one on his lap, a sexy bootylicious sister. He was poppin’ bottles and was flossing as if he was on big willie status. It reminded Trae of how he used to do it. Dude with the locks must have felt Trae looking at him because he turned around and caught his gaze. Trae nodded in approval and turned his attention to the honey who had sat on his lap and was working on getting his dick on swole. Marvin had disappeared and Stephon had two, a sister and a snow bunny on his lap.

  “Yo, why you get two and I only get one, Steph?” Trae wanted to know.

  “I’m taking it easy on you,” Stephon joked. “You gotta work your way up.”

  “I’m enough for you, big daddy,” the honey in his lap purred.

  “You think so?” Trae asked, twisting his face and thinking to himself, Yeah right.

  A waitress came over with a bottle of Ace of Spades on ice. “Compliments from King Dread over there.” Trae looked over at the detective and he was holding up a glass as if to give Trae a toast. Trae held up his empty glass and toasted him back.

  “Who is that cat?” he asked the chick on his lap.

  “Oh, that’s King,” she replied.

  “King of what?” Trae asked.

  “Let him tell it, he says LA.”

  King made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he walked in there, he noticed Marvin standing at the sink nodding. It surprised him. Recognizing the nod he had seen on so many junkies, King looked at him in total disgust. He didn’t know Marvin was getting high. Rockin’ this nigga’s world was going to be easier than he thought. “Weak niggas use drugs,” he said, hearing his father’s words ring in his head. And when you are weak you get used up. A
nd King was already trying to figure out how he could use this weak-ass nigga up. After all, he was the king and LA was his.

  Marvin looked up at him as if he had heard his thoughts and shot him a look that said, “Yeah, try me if you want to, nigga.” As he watched King walk out, he checked himself in the mirror and he said to himself, Damn that could have easily been Trae or Steph who walked in here on me. This shit is fire, I’ma make a killin’. He floated out and rejoined the fellas at the table.

  The young lady on Trae’s lap whispered in his ear. Trae grinned as he said, “My wife will do that. Shorty, you gotta come with something a little more creative than that.”

  Marvin and Stephon both started laughing.

  “All right then.” The stripper got up. “That sounds like a challenge to me.” She smiled at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  “Awww shit,” Stephon said, instigating, and started laughing. “She said she’ll be coming back.”

  “Sheeit, I’ll be ready for her. But yo, why ain’t nobody smokin’ up in here? Fire it up,” Trae said.

  “That’s the only thing you can’t do in here,” Stephon said, almost apologizing. “You gotta go out front or out back. Drink up, nigga. Give your lungs a rest.”

  “That nigga ain’t no drinker. He a smoker,” Marvin said as he passed Trae a blunt.

  Trae took it from him and said, “Come on.”

  “I’m good,” Marvin said. The heroin he had just snorted had him on easy street.

  Trae stood up and looked around for the honey who had been on his lap. “I’ll be right back.” He took his time making his way to the front door as he admired all the luscious eye candy all around him. When he got out front, a group of smokers were just finishing up and coming back inside. Trae looked around, lit up and started walking.

  “Yo, money.”

  Trae turned around and saw King, so he stopped and waited.

  “Let’s keep walking,” King told him as he lit up his own blunt. “This is my first time seeing you up in here.” He took a slow pull and admired the blunt. “So, we meet again.” King Dread smirked. “I’m Detective Rick Bryant by day and King Dread by night.”