penitentiary.”
“What da fuck you mean? I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.”
Des gave him a look. “You right, but listen here, you can give me nine thousand a week as far as I’m concerned, but you coming in here paying cash like that, that’s not going to work for me or you. I know you don’t know how it goes down, so I’m going to put you up on it.”
Des was trying to give Lil’ Man some jewels, but Lil’ Man’s thoughts were on one thing and one thing only…that BMW. And anything else was in one ear and out the other as far as he was concerned.
“You give me the whole fifty-nine, I gotta report every dollar of that to the IRS. That’s a red flag for you and your momma. You become a walking investigation straight up.”
“So what I’m supposed to do? Ride around in a Pinto?”
“My man, it’s always two ways to skin a cat.”
“Good, because a Pinto ain’t a good look for my image.”
In a matter of time, Des had Lil’ Man off heels and on wheels. Five sales in one day wasn’t bad at all.
CHAPTER 11
The Queen Protects the King
D es went to scoop Nasir so that they could go see Felix. When Des arrived at Nasir and Lava’s deluxe condo, Lava let him in and informed him that Nasir was almost ready. She offered him something to drink, but he declined. Lava shrugged and headed to another room, and Des decided to follow her. Des thought she and Nasir must have had an argument because she seemed a little distant.
He looked around the condo and was pretty impressed with what the young couple had pulled together. The living room was decked out in a
Scarface
theme—soft, red leather furniture and
Scarface
mini-blinds featuring the classic Tony Montana picture. Built in the wall diagonally across from the
Scarface
reflection was a huge wall-size aquarium, which housed two piranhas—Nasir told him once that they had named them Bobby and Whitney. Off the living room was an enormous game room, which had a professional-size pool table in the middle of the floor, a large dart board with a police officer’s face as the target on one wall, and a flat-screen plasma television on another.
“Who did the decorating?” Des asked, continuing to look around the room.
“We both did.” Lava plopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote. “We pretty much do everything together,” she added.
Des rolled a few of the balls on the pool table with his hands, growing uncomfortable with the silence. “Real nice art,” he said, nodding toward the collection of fictional and real-life people showcased on the walls. Every photograph had been carefully selected and professionally matted and framed. There were posters of films, television shows, and their stars:
The Sopranos, Goodfellas, The Godfather,
as well Tony Montana, Biggie, Tupac, and Suge Knight. Des was surprised they had some political figures mixed in, including Fidel Castro, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King Jr. They had somehow managed to get hold of federal mug shots, with the inmate numbers underneath, for Baby-face Nelson, Cool C., Wayne Perry, and Kenneth “Supreme” McGriff. In the middle of all the photos was a huge portrait of Lava and Nasir dressed up like Bonnie and Clyde, holding street sweepers.
Des caught sight of a chessboard in the corner of the room. “Does Nasir play chess?” he asked, not recalling his nephew having an interest in the game.
“All the time,” Lava said, never taking her eyes off the six o’clock news to look at Des. “We both do.”
Finally Des could take the awkward silence no longer. “Lover’s quarrel?” he asked. He could see that something was clearly bothering Lava by the way she had her arms folded across her chest.
“No, Uncle Des,” she said, sounding annoyed as she sucked her teeth.
Nasir walked in the room and headed over to Des to give him a hug and a pound. “She’s just mad because she can’t roll with the big boys. She gets an attitude anytime my immediate plans
“What da fuck you mean? I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.”
Des gave him a look. “You right, but listen here, you can give me nine thousand a week as far as I’m concerned, but you coming in here paying cash like that, that’s not going to work for me or you. I know you don’t know how it goes down, so I’m going to put you up on it.”
Des was trying to give Lil’ Man some jewels, but Lil’ Man’s thoughts were on one thing and one thing only…that BMW. And anything else was in one ear and out the other as far as he was concerned.
“You give me the whole fifty-nine, I gotta report every dollar of that to the IRS. That’s a red flag for you and your momma. You become a walking investigation straight up.”
“So what I’m supposed to do? Ride around in a Pinto?”
“My man, it’s always two ways to skin a cat.”
“Good, because a Pinto ain’t a good look for my image.”
In a matter of time, Des had Lil’ Man off heels and on wheels. Five sales in one day wasn’t bad at all.
CHAPTER 11
The Queen Protects the King
D es went to scoop Nasir so that they could go see Felix. When Des arrived at Nasir and Lava’s deluxe condo, Lava let him in and informed him that Nasir was almost ready. She offered him something to drink, but he declined. Lava shrugged and headed to another room, and Des decided to follow her. Des thought she and Nasir must have had an argument because she seemed a little distant.
He looked around the condo and was pretty impressed with what the young couple had pulled together. The living room was decked out in a
Scarface
theme—soft, red leather furniture and
Scarface
mini-blinds featuring the classic Tony Montana picture. Built in the wall diagonally across from the
Scarface
reflection was a huge wall-size aquarium, which housed two piranhas—Nasir told him once that they had named them Bobby and Whitney. Off the living room was an enormous game room, which had a professional-size pool table in the middle of the floor, a large dart board with a police officer’s face as the target on one wall, and a flat-screen plasma television on another.
“Who did the decorating?” Des asked, continuing to look around the room.
“We both did.” Lava plopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote. “We pretty much do everything together,” she added.
Des rolled a few of the balls on the pool table with his hands, growing uncomfortable with the silence. “Real nice art,” he said, nodding toward the collection of fictional and real-life people showcased on the walls. Every photograph had been carefully selected and professionally matted and framed. There were posters of films, television shows, and their stars:
The Sopranos, Goodfellas, The Godfather,
as well Tony Montana, Biggie, Tupac, and Suge Knight. Des was surprised they had some political figures mixed in, including Fidel Castro, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King Jr. They had somehow managed to get hold of federal mug shots, with the inmate numbers underneath, for Baby-face Nelson, Cool C., Wayne Perry, and Kenneth “Supreme” McGriff. In the middle of all the photos was a huge portrait of Lava and Nasir dressed up like Bonnie and Clyde, holding street sweepers.
Des caught sight of a chessboard in the corner of the room. “Does Nasir play chess?” he asked, not recalling his nephew having an interest in the game.
“All the time,” Lava said, never taking her eyes off the six o’clock news to look at Des. “We both do.”
Finally Des could take the awkward silence no longer. “Lover’s quarrel?” he asked. He could see that something was clearly bothering Lava by the way she had her arms folded across her chest.
“No, Uncle Des,” she said, sounding annoyed as she sucked her teeth.
Nasir walked in the room and headed over to Des to give him a hug and a pound. “She’s just mad because she can’t roll with the big boys. She gets an attitude anytime my immediate plans
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