more. Of course I have to collect money from my girls eventually, but I don't do it until the pot has grown big enough to merit the risk. Even then, I usually send a go-between to do it for me, and that happens long after all the clients have gone. The police would have to be very patient and dedicated to track any crimes back to me, and frankly, I'm not really worth the trouble. At least, I try not to be.
I admired Tito and the way he thought about things, but he scared me too. He obviously thought of dealing as a long-term business, so he wasn't looking to take too many chances. He had a steady income and made plenty of cash. He knew the price he could pay for getting greedy. But he also never thought about other things he could do to make money that were safer and less stressful for him and for Maya. He was a lifer. There was nothing else for him.
Allen, on the other hand, was more like Andre in that he was interested in other entrepreneurial ventures. And he became even more interested in them as our relationship got more and more serious. He refused to live in the city itself, which he considered far too ghetto, choosing to live in an upscale Maryland suburb instead. I soon found an apartment down the street from him, and Maya and Tito lived across the street from me. Except for the four of us, the neighborhood was entirely white folks. Maya and I reconciled ourselves to living in such an area because at least we had each other, and Maya had kids, so she had her own reasons for wanting to be there. I think Tito and Allen liked it there because it was far enough away from the gang and drug warfare going on all over Baltimore that they felt almost safe and relaxed.
About the time I moved near him, Allen started looking for a way out of the drug business. He had his mind set on buying an upscale "gentlemen's club," one that you could see from the highway when you were leaving the city. He and Tito and some of their friends used to hang out there. It was our retirement plan. He figured he could quit his business and I could quit mine and together we could run the club, which brought in tons of cash, and lead a legit life from then on. We were gradually building up a stash of cash, which he kept in his apartment, to use as a down payment. We were getting close to having enough when everything turned to shit.
I should have guessed that things were going too well for all of us and that they couldn't last like that forever. I'm a big believer in karma, both in business and in life, and I think that maybe people like me and Allen and Tito and Maya aren't meant to get off that easy. Tito, in particular, had made a lot of enemies, and what goes around, comes around. I don't know how else to explain it.
The tide turned one night without any warning. Allen and I had a fight about the same thing we always fought about: the fact that he was jealous all the time and was holding on to the reins way too tightly. I got so mad that I threw his keys at him (we didn't live together, but we had keys to each other's apartments, which were just a couple minutes' walk apart, so it was almost like we did) and stalked out of his apartment without picking up my purse. When I realized that I didn't have my own keys so I couldn't get back into my apartment, I headed for Maya's place instead. I didn't want to have to face Allen, and I knew Maya would talk me down. She always did.
I was walking through the parking garage of Maya and Tito's apartment complex when I saw them: four black boys in a beat-up old Cadillac speeding toward the exit. Like I said before, this was an exclusive, white neighborhood. You just didn't see people, or cars, like that around there.
I knew right away that something was wrong. As the car passed me, I looked straight at the guys and they looked back at me. I could see them more closely then and by the way they were dressed and the looks on their faces, I knew they were gangsters. I took the elevator up three stories to
I admired Tito and the way he thought about things, but he scared me too. He obviously thought of dealing as a long-term business, so he wasn't looking to take too many chances. He had a steady income and made plenty of cash. He knew the price he could pay for getting greedy. But he also never thought about other things he could do to make money that were safer and less stressful for him and for Maya. He was a lifer. There was nothing else for him.
Allen, on the other hand, was more like Andre in that he was interested in other entrepreneurial ventures. And he became even more interested in them as our relationship got more and more serious. He refused to live in the city itself, which he considered far too ghetto, choosing to live in an upscale Maryland suburb instead. I soon found an apartment down the street from him, and Maya and Tito lived across the street from me. Except for the four of us, the neighborhood was entirely white folks. Maya and I reconciled ourselves to living in such an area because at least we had each other, and Maya had kids, so she had her own reasons for wanting to be there. I think Tito and Allen liked it there because it was far enough away from the gang and drug warfare going on all over Baltimore that they felt almost safe and relaxed.
About the time I moved near him, Allen started looking for a way out of the drug business. He had his mind set on buying an upscale "gentlemen's club," one that you could see from the highway when you were leaving the city. He and Tito and some of their friends used to hang out there. It was our retirement plan. He figured he could quit his business and I could quit mine and together we could run the club, which brought in tons of cash, and lead a legit life from then on. We were gradually building up a stash of cash, which he kept in his apartment, to use as a down payment. We were getting close to having enough when everything turned to shit.
I should have guessed that things were going too well for all of us and that they couldn't last like that forever. I'm a big believer in karma, both in business and in life, and I think that maybe people like me and Allen and Tito and Maya aren't meant to get off that easy. Tito, in particular, had made a lot of enemies, and what goes around, comes around. I don't know how else to explain it.
The tide turned one night without any warning. Allen and I had a fight about the same thing we always fought about: the fact that he was jealous all the time and was holding on to the reins way too tightly. I got so mad that I threw his keys at him (we didn't live together, but we had keys to each other's apartments, which were just a couple minutes' walk apart, so it was almost like we did) and stalked out of his apartment without picking up my purse. When I realized that I didn't have my own keys so I couldn't get back into my apartment, I headed for Maya's place instead. I didn't want to have to face Allen, and I knew Maya would talk me down. She always did.
I was walking through the parking garage of Maya and Tito's apartment complex when I saw them: four black boys in a beat-up old Cadillac speeding toward the exit. Like I said before, this was an exclusive, white neighborhood. You just didn't see people, or cars, like that around there.
I knew right away that something was wrong. As the car passed me, I looked straight at the guys and they looked back at me. I could see them more closely then and by the way they were dressed and the looks on their faces, I knew they were gangsters. I took the elevator up three stories to
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