Dollar Bill by Joy Page B

bootie. Dollar could see her panties because her jeans were gapping around her waist. Obviously she had to purchase larger-sized pants to get over her big ass.
    â€œFilet fish with extra tarter, large fry, and large Sprite,” the girl said, handing Redd his lunch.
    â€œThat’s my little girl,” Redd said.
    â€œOh, Daddy,” she replied.
    Hell no, Dollar thought. He couldn’t believe Redd was sticking his finger into the chocolate pot. If this was Redd’s baby girl, she had to be by a black woman. The first fine sista he saw and she’s the boss’s daughter. There went Dollar’s vision of tagging dat ass.
    â€œAll finished, sir,” Dollar said, handing Redd the paperwork. “I mean, Redd.”
    â€œOh, just give them to Kera,” Redd said, pointing to the girl. “Kera, this is . . . I didn’t catch your name. I guess I got off track thinking you were going to try to beat my ass after that statement about not being able to read.”
    â€œOh, come on now,” Dollar joked. “Let’s squash that already.”
    â€œI’m just joshing you,” Redd said.
    â€œIt’s Dareese. Dareese Blake. But you can call me Dollar. That’s my nickname. Everyone called me that as a kid.”
    â€œKera, Dollar. Dollar, Kera,” Redd said.
    â€œNice to meet you, Dolla,” Kera said seductively as she slowly slid the papers from Dollar’s hand.
    â€œSame here.” Dollar smiled.
    Dollar knew that pussy was his if he wanted it. Compared to them raggedy dudes who were standing out front, Dollar was probably the finest muthafucka Kera had seen up in there. Dollar knew he was making an impression as Kera took the papers from him, not taking her eyes off of him once. No way was he going to run up in the boss’s daughter. That would keep Dollar out of work for real. Love ’em and leave ’em was the game plan. He could see her now crying to Daddy. Dollar had to shake this one off. He couldn’t go getting caught up with no chick. He had to focus on getting that paper.
    â€œSo, what can you do?” Redd interrupted Dollar’s thoughts. Dollar looked puzzled. “What type of work can you do? What was your last job?”
    â€œOh, uhh . . . I can, uhh . . . It was, uhh . . .”
    â€œFresh out the clink, huh?” Redd embarrassed Dollar by asking him that in front of Kera.
    Dollar didn’t respond verbally. He answered Redd with his eyes.
    â€œThought so,” Redd said.
    The fact that Dollar was a former jailbird seemed to attract Kera to him even more. Her eyes lit up for this beefed-up bad boy. Dollar knew right then and there that she was young, eighteen tops. She had that look in her eyes that little girls get when they get a whiff of a dangerous man: a man who ain’t afraid of the streets, a man who would break another man’s muthafuckin’ neck for her ass.
    â€œIt’s cool,” Redd assured Dollar. “Not everybody who comes through those doors have always been on the up and up. People need a break. Hell, I did a dime for the Feds.”
    Redd looked as though he had done a decade that consisted of ten unrelenting years. This explained his hard look.
    â€œLook, Ed sent me. I don’t even know how this type of gig works. I just know I need some cash.”
    â€œEd.” Redd laughed. “That’s a blast from the past. What’s he been up to?”
    â€œSame ol’, same ol’,” Dollar answered. “He’s still a CO over in Chillicothe, Ohio.”
    Redd almost choked on his French fries as he started laughing. “He’s a CO? He never told me that. Ed used to terrorize the neighborhood. I always pictured him on the other side of the law.”
    â€œYou know I told you Uncle Ed was working as a CO,” Kera added. “That one time I went to visit Mommy in Ohio, I told you about Uncle Ed being a CO. He’s only been a CO forever and a