Wifey, Part 1 Page 3

  “Nah, I’m straight,” Jasmine quickly replied.

  “See, me and you, we need to hang out, because I totally know what you’re saying and where you’re coming from because your man and my man are from the same world, so I get it,” I added with a slight half of a smile.

  Jasmine looked at me and nodded her head. I opened up the small pack of shortbread cookies that I had also gotten from Starbucks and started to eat one.

  Although Jasmine’s man and my man were from the same world, me and Jasmine were from two different worlds when it came to sophistication. Jasmine was more of a loud but pretty hood rat chick with a ghetto edge to her. And I was more of the quiet good girl, middle class model type of chick that understood the hood and how to maneuver in it. But one thing that I knew for certain was the universal language of money. Nonchalantly I went into my bag, took out three stacks of hundred dollar bills, and handed them to Jasmine.

  “What’s this?” Jasmine quickly asked me with a confused smile.

  “It’s for you.”

  “Yeah, but what it is for?”

  I took another bite of my cookie and drank some more of the Macchiato. “When I told Nico I was meeting up with you, he told me to give that to you.”

  Jasmine started to count the money. Although she was quiet as she counted it, I could literally feel the energy inside the truck change from negative to positive.

  “Take the money and use it to take Shabazz somewhere nice. Go to Atlantic City or Canada or somewhere. I don’t know, but just do something one-on-one with him and help him get his head right.”

  After she was done counting, she said, “Mia, this is three grand.”

  “Jasmine, you’re family. This is what we do. Shabazz got a lot on his head right now with Skeen’s murder, and everything is getting to him. So you could talk to him now like you been doing, but he probably won’t hear you. And all it’ll do is keep you frustrated. But if the two of you get away for a few days where you and him are one-on-one with no distractions, that’s how you’ll be able to connect with him and help him get his mind right. Trust me. I’ve been there before.”

  Jasmine was quiet. I could tell her wheels were turning.

  “I been there with Nico. Not with Shabazz,” I laughed and said. “You know what I mean, right?”

  Jasmine was still quiet and she didn’t crack a smile or nothing.

  “Jasmine, like you just said to me, I’ll say it to you—All this is between me and you. Shabazz don’t have to know nothing about this money or us talking or anything.” Then I added, “That three grand is student loan money or Pell grant money. You understand?”

  Jasmine kept looking straight ahead, sort of like she was day-dreaming, and then after about thirty seconds or so, she looked directly at me and told me that she understood. She looked at her phone and noted the time.

  “You know what? Fuck that class. Fuck all these classes. Find a place to park, and I’ll come with you to the admissions office,” Jasmine said to me, a sinister look on her face while she stuffed the money into the front pocket of her tight jeans.

  I smiled and soon ended up finding a place to park.

  Jasmine and I did make it to the admissions office, but Jasmine had no idea that I could have cared less about a nursing curriculum or about the prerequisite classes a person needed before entering the program. The only thing I wanted was to fulfill the mission Nico had given me, which was to gain Jasmine’s trust.

  After we left the admissions office, I took Jasmine to downtown Brooklyn and I treated her to lunch and to multiple apple martinis. By the time I dropped her back off at her car near the school late that afternoon, I was more than confident that I had fulfilled my mission.

  “See, this is some goddamn bullshit right here,” Jasmine said, referring to her car. She was slightly slurring her words, due to all the liquor she had drunk. “You see this rental that nigga got me driving? I look too good to be pushing a fuckin’ rental!” Jasmine screamed out at the top of her lungs, sounding like a brat. “And to make matters worse, the car has to go back any day!”

  “Jasmine, you are so crazy. You had one too many of them martinis. You sure you can drive?”

  With an intoxicated look, she leaned over and gave me a hug. “We family, right?” she asked, totally random and from left field.

  I smiled. “Jasmine, let me drive you home, and you can take a cab back over this way tomorrow for your car.”

  “Nah, nah, nah, I’m good,” she replied, and then she started to make her way out of my truck.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “I’ll call you later,” I said. “And we have to really hang out next time.”

  Jasmine looked at me and nodded her head. She waited for me to pull off before walking to the driver’s side door of her car.

  When I reached the red light, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw Jasmine pulling off from her parking spot. I smiled and turned on the radio and then I called Nico and filled him in on how everything had gone with me and Jasmine.

  My assignment had been completed.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jasmine

  Three days after I had linked up with Mia and got the money from her, I decided to use some of it by surprising Shabazz with something he loved and was passionate about. Shabazz was the biggest boxing fan in the world. He was always talking about boxing and always watching it, so I decided to take him to MGM Grand at the Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut to watch the WBC welterweight championship fight between Ortiz and Berto.

  “I knew I should’ve bet on this fight. Ortiz and his punk ass don’t got no chin. Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t gonna go past six rounds?” Shabazz asked me as we sat in a restaurant waiting for our food to arrive after the fight had ended.

  I smiled and said, “You really know boxing.”

  “I love it!” Shabazz replied. “I need to teach you how to throw your hands.” He playfully reached across the table and touched my chin with his hand.

  “Wait until we get back in the room so we can slap-box. I’m nice with mines. Don’t sleep on me.” I joked.

  Shabazz drank some of the rum and Coke he had ordered.

  “So did you expect this to be your surprise?” I asked.

  “Front row seats to the fight? Nah, I ain’t expect this. It was a good surprise, though.”

  As soon as Shabazz finished saying that, our waitress arrived with our food. I had ordered shrimp alfredo, and Shabazz had ordered two lobsters with wild rice.

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked us.

  I was fine, but Shabazz took the liberty of ordering me another Hpnotiq, and he ordered himself another rum and Coke.

  “You trying to get me drunk or something?”

  Shabazz nodded his head once, and then he put some of his rice in his mouth.

  I reached for my fork and twirled some pasta on it. I placed the food in my mouth.

  “I don’t know how you eat that Alfredo sauce,” Shabazz said to me. “That shit is like eating warm milk and mayonnaise.”

  I chuckled at his remark. Just then I heard my phone vibrating and reached into my bag and got it. I saw that it was a text from Mia.

  Why does it seem like whenever I Really need some, my man ain’t home? Is it just me or what??? Lol. What’s up, Jasmine? Just hollering at you.

  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud a little bit when I read the text. I was also actually kind of surprised that Mia would send me a text like that. We didn’t know each other all that intimately, and she seemed more like the prim and proper, conservative supermodel type.

  I put some shrimp on my fork and I ate some and then I responded back to Mia’s text.

  Hey girl. Trust Me, it’s not just you. Lmao. We in Foxwoods right now, can’t reall
y talk. I’ll hit you up when I get back.

  I put my phone away and refocused on my food. “So is your lobster good?”

  “Who was that?” Shabazz asked.

  “That was Mia. She’s crazy, and I thought she was a goodie-goodie type chick.”

  “When the fuck y’all get close?” Shabazz asked, a frown on his face.

  “We exchanged numbers at Bebo’s party. Is that a problem?”

  “Give me your phone.”

  “For what?”

  “Give me your fuckin’ phone!” Shabazz said, drawing the attention of the people sitting in close proximity.

  “Shabazz, you causing a scene, and I’m tryin’ to figure out what the fuck for.”

  “Jasmine, hand me your muthafuckin’ phone right now!” Shabazz stood up.

  I handed him the phone just to get him to sit down and calm down. He took hold of the phone and started to go through it. I had the iPhone, and Shabazz didn’t, so I knew he didn’t know what he was looking at.

  “Show me the text she just sent you.”

  “Oh my fuckin’ God!” I slid my chair away from the table and stood up and went around to the other side of the table and brought up the list of text messages so Shabazz could read them.

  “I guess we back in high school again, with this childish shit.” I sat back down. “You really gonna stand there and read my texts? This is some bullshit!” I was definitely starting to lose my temper.

  Shabazz handed me my phone back, and he sat down. “Delete her number from your phone.”

  “No! Why should I?”

  “Because I fuckin’ said so!” Shabazz shot back, accidentally causing some of his spit to hit me in my face.

  I had to consciously pause and count to ten because I knew I was a split second from throwing my plate of food in his face. “OK, can we just rewind back five or ten minutes and start over? We was having a good time, and I don’t want no stupid shit messing everything up.”

  At that point people around us still had their eyes on us because it was obvious that me and Shabazz weren’t in lovey-dovey mode.

  “Is everything OK?” our waitress asked as she approached our table.

  Shabazz remained quiet, and I spoke up and told her that we were fine and didn’t need anything.

  “Now I see where all that talk you was doing earlier was coming from,” Shabazz stated.

  “All what talk?”

  “About Skeen’s murder, and if my money was straight, and all that shit!”

  “Baby, that was just regular conversation I was making because you ain’t been yourself, that’s all.”

  Shabazz didn’t say anything. Our little getaway was now fucked up, and we probably weren’t even going to end up spending the night. I also remained quiet and tried to eat some more of my food, but at that point, my appetite was shot.

  “OK, look, if you want me to keep it real with you, Mia reached out to me, and it was just about school. She was asking me about the nursing program I’m in. Did your name come up? Yes, but it’s normal for her to ask me how you were doing.”

  “Hey, yo, do me a fuckin’ favor,” Shabazz said, pointing his two fingers at me. “Don’t let my name come out your mouth. I don’t give a fuck who you talking to! You feel me?”

  I closed my eyes and I paused in frustration. I picked up my drink and drank some of it, and then I told Shabazz that I understood where he was coming from.

  “My business and what I do ain’t got shit to do with you. You don’t know shit, and you don’t say shit.”

  My vex meter was now off the charts. I was never one to hold my tongue, and I wasn’t going to start now. I definitely wasn’t going to just sit there and let Shabazz talk to me like I was his daughter or some shit.

  “Your business don’t have anything to do with me. You right about that. But at the same time, you gotta also understand that when you just up and get out of reach with your people, then niggas get nervous. You know that’s how shit goes.”

  “See, this is what I’m talkin’ ’bout. How the fuck you know I been out of reach? A minute ago you said Mia called you about school, and now you giving me the remix!”

  “And I also said that your name came up! That wasn’t no remix! You know what? I can’t do this with you.” I stood up and reached in my bag, placed two hundred dollars on the table, and started to walk away.

  “Jasmine! Jasmine!” Shabazz called out to me.

  I turned around and stood in my tracks with my arms folded and just looked at him. There was no way I was going to go back to the table and sit down, tired of Shabazz and his bullshit.

  Shabazz realized I wasn’t coming back to the table, and he got up and came over to me, and we walked out of the restaurant, headed toward the casino area.

  “There’s a lot of shit going on right now that you don’t know about, and you don’t need to know about.”

  “You wanna know what I need to know about?” I asked.

  Shabazz looked at me but didn’t respond.

  “I need to know that regardless of what’s going on, that you’ll take care of home.” I began shaking my head and rolling my eyes. “Yeah, I don’t live with you and all that, but you know what I mean, because the principle is the same! It’s called security. And, honestly, Shabazz, you wanting to grab my phone, and barking on me about little trivial shit—you coming across real insecure. So when you’re insecure and all private about shit, then you tell me what the fuck am I supposed to feel and think?”

  Shabazz was quiet because he knew I was right and he had no comeback.

  “I’m going up to the room. You coming?” I asked.

  “Nah, I’m going to the craps tables. I’m gonna chill down here.”

  It was only Friday night, and we weren’t scheduled to check out until Sunday morning. But I knew right then and there that I was checking out of the hotel Saturday morning and bringing my black ass back to New York.

  Kim Kardashian was having a birthday party in New York on Saturday that I had been planning on going to. My good friend Carlos was one of the promoters of the party, so that meant VIP treatment all around. And with Shabazz acting like a straight bitch-ass, there was no sense in me missing it just to chill with him in misery.

  CHAPTER 5

  Nico

  What you thinkin’ Fam’?” BJ asked me right after we left a meeting with Bebo and headed out to Manhattan. BJ was my underboss and the person I most trusted with my life.

  “What I think?” I paused and said, being very deliberate with my words. “I think the nigga on some bullshit. We don’t need no product, and we don’t need no shooters. So what the fuck we need to partner with anybody for?” I replied as BJ chauffeured me toward the midtown tunnel.

  “Exactly, my nigga! What’s wild is, Bebo just came home, and he’s like, ‘Fuck it,’ and just right back in the mix with shit,” BJ said.

  “That’s that ego shit,” I replied. “And that ego shit is bad for everybody. It’ll fuck up everybody’s paper. What do I always tell you this game is about?”

  “It’s about buying shit for one dollar and selling it for two,” BJ quickly replied.

  “That’s it. It’s simple. Fuck the street rep ’cause when everybody knows your name, it means the feds know your name too. Bebo still on that late nineties shit, and that era is gone. But the muthafucka trapped in that shit. His frame of mind is fucked up.”

  “So how you gonna play it?” BJ asked.

  I sat back in the passenger seat and I turned up the volume on the Jadakiss freestyle that was playing in the CD player. I slowly shook my head but I didn’t reply to BJ’s question simply because I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with Bebo’s plan to partner with other drug crews.

  Twenty minutes later, BJ and I found ourselves inside Club Amnesia, wh
ich was on 29th Street in Manhattan. We were both real cool with DJ Clue, who had told us to pass through the club, since he was doing the music for Kim Kardashian’s birthday party. By the time we made it in the club, it was close to two in the morning, and the spot was rammed. The block was looking like a scene straight from a movie or some shit.

  Clue had his man meet us at the front entrance, and he got us inside. Then we snaked our way through the club until we made it to a packed VIP area.

  “Yo, I ain’t with this Hollywood shit,” I said to BJ.

  “We’ll chill for about an hour and then bounce,” BJ replied into my ear over the music.

  The VIP area was too packed for me, so I headed over to the bar area, while BJ posted up and chilled where he was at. BJ had a tool on him, but I wasn’t strapped ,so I wasn’t feeling all that comfortable.

  I had been near the bar for no more than five minutes when some chick came up next to me.

  “I know you’re gonna buy me a drink, right?” she said, a smile on her face.

  It was dark in the club, so I couldn’t really see her face that well. At the same time, she did look familiar.

  “Nico, it’s Jasmine,” she said.

  “Oh shit! What’s good, ma’ma’?” I replied, finally realizing who she was.

  “Nothing. I’m just up in here with my girls.” Jasmine replied. “These are my friends, Simone and Jada.”

  At that moment DJ Clue threw on Lil Wayne’s hit song, “If I Die Today.”

  “Ahh yeah, this my shit right here!” Jasmine yelled out. She put one of her hands in the air and started dancing in front of me to the music.

  “I didn’t recognize you. But, yeah, I gotchu. Whatchu want? Tell your friends I got them too,” I said while pulling out a large wad of cash, all hundred dollar bills.

  “We been drinking Nuvo the whole night, so just get us that,” Jasmine shouted into my ear.