Chapter 10
JASMINE MILLER
“Do you think you’ll come home after your contract ends?” my mother asked hopefully.
Her phone was propped up on the kitchen counter, giving me a full view of her washing dishes. This was our weekly FaceTime date—our way of putting physical eyes on each other, even though we talked almost daily.
“Mommy, you asked me that yesterday,” I said, walking into my closet.
She smiled, eyes crinkling. “I know. I just miss you, that's all.”
I sighed softly. The four months I’d been in Atlanta were the longest I’d ever been away from home.
I was a diehard New Yorker, through and through.
When I initially decided to try out travel nursing, I kept it local to the tri-state area.
It was great for a while, but after the pandemic, I decided I wanted a real change of scenery that wasn’t another borough.
I went back and forth for months before applying to Peachtree Memorial.
I broke my lease, put most of my stuff in storage, and came down here.
Atlanta was a completely different world from what I was used to, and working at Peachtree felt like I was in the trenches most days, but Monica had quickly folded me into her friend group.
Shit, I even had a cute little dating life— at least before Cash pulled that stunt with Amir.
I was having fun, but I really needed to get a new contract.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.
“Maybe I’ll come up in a few weeks to see you and daddy,” I said, making a mental note to check flights this week.
“Yes! We’d love that,” she beamed.
“Where’s daddy anyway?” I asked, rifling through my closet for something to wear to brunch.
“Chile, he’s with Leonard down at the athletic club, playing pickleball,” she shook her head. “All I need is for him to come home limping ‘cause he set off his arthritis again.”
We chatted a little longer before hanging up.
As I settled on my outfit, my phone buzzed with a text.
Big Daddy Cash: When you gon’ let me take you out, Jas?
I couldn’t stop the smile creeping across my face. It’d been over a week, but I was still thinking about how he had me damn near drooling outside my building the last time I saw him.
Never
Big Daddy Cash: I thought you blocked me?
Getting ready for a date, ttyl!
Big Daddy Cash: Stop fucking playing with me, Jasmine.
I snickered, tossing the phone on the bed as I headed for the shower.
The chemistry between us was off the charts—but what did I look like getting caught up with a street dude at thirty-six?
It didn’t matter that Monica swore up and down that Cash’s hands were more clean than dirty these days. I wasn’t naive. He and his brother were too quick to pull out their guns like they were invincible. That was a young girl’s game, and I loved my career too much to risk it.
But that sexy ass southern drawl? The way my whole body reacted when he brushed against me?
I chewed on my bottom lip, feeling a tingle between my thighs at the memory of his lips skimming my neck, and that bulge in his pants that let me know he had something heavy between his legs. Yeah… if we ever slept together, it’d be a wrap.
I threw on a white tank-top bodysuit and a pair of high-waisted shorts to keep it simple but cute. After doing a quick makeup look, throwing on a few gold bangles and some gold hoops, I was good to go.
I stepped outside and slid my sunglasses on as the heat of the midday sun hit me. I was halfway across the sidewalk when the passenger window of a white Porsche Cayenne rolled down.
I nearly tripped when I spotted Cash in the driver’s seat, scowling.
I rolled my eyes and kept walking. I didn’t have time to entertain his antics today.
“Word, Jasmine?” he called out, the irritation clear in his voice.
I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder without breaking my stride.
“Now you pissing me off. Come here,” he said.
I paused. He was the type to cause a scene, and I didn’t need drama outside my building. Sucking my teeth, I turned and walked over to his car.
“What do you want? I got a reservation to make,” I said, leaning into the passenger window.
“Let me give you a ride so me, you, and your new nigga can get acquainted,” he said, mugging me.
“I was just fucking with you!” I rolled my eyes. “You really came all the way here ‘cause of that text?”
“What I tell you the last time I saw you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I waved him off. “And I told you—you don’t run shit. I’m meeting Monica for brunch. I'm only telling you so you don’t cut up outside my building.”
He gave me a hard look before tapping something on the car’s display—a call rang out on speaker.
“Yo,” Jelani answered groggily.
“Monica with you?” Cash asked him, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Nah,” Jelani yawned. “She’s said she’s getting brunch with her cousin and your nurse.”
Cash hung up, looking smug.
“See? I told you, you psycho.” I threw my hands up.
“I’m taking you out tonight.”
“Huh?”
“You can’t hear now? We’re going on a date, Jasmine. Have your pretty ass ready by eight.”
“You can’t just tell me we’re going on a date,” I protested.
“Clearly, I can. You seem to respond better to orders than when I’m tryna be nice. See you at eight, sweetheart.” He winked and rolled the window up.
* * *
“I got a bone to pick with you,” I said, jabbing a finger at Monica.
She frowned, her hands twisting her faux locs into a messy bun. “What’d I do now?”
“Did you tell Jelani I was at the hookah lounge with Amir?”
“Um, why would I do that?” she replied, scrunching her face up.
“‘Cause I hit you up to come through, and magically Jelani just happened to be going to your place that same night.”
She burst out laughing so loudly that a few people turned to look at us. “Girl, that nigga was blowing my back out all night. Trust me, nobody was trying to get intel for Cash.”
“Cash who?” Rochelle cut in.
Rochelle and Monica were cousins who moved like twins with how in sync they were. They shared the same sienna-brown skin, wide doe eyes, and heart-shaped face, but Rochelle carried an extra thirty pounds. We instantly clicked over our love of good food, reality TV, and shit talking.
“Big Money Banks,” Monica grinned at her knowingly.
Rochelle’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, he’s fine, fine.”
“He’s a fucking pain in my ass,” I huffed. “Tell me why he showed up at the hookah lounge and pistol-whipped Amir?”
Monica’s eyes went wide. “Wait—was he mad you were out with another guy?”
“Not even,” I sighed. “Amir came out the restroom and saw Cash sitting with me. I told him Cash was nobody, but then Amir started talking to me all kinds of crazy. I didn’t even know he had it in him to be honest.”
Monica and Rochelle exchanged a look, then busted out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sorry,” Rochelle said, still laughing. “It just sounds like Money was sticking up for you.”
“I could’ve handled Amir on my own!”
“Jas, Amir should’ve gotten slapped for taking you to a hookah lounge,” Monica said, pouring our drinks. “I been asking you to go since I met you, and you always tell me no. You should be grateful—Money saved you from a wack night and probably some wack dick.”
“The date was fine until the hookah lounge. But that brings me back to the question—how the hell did he find me?”
“Maybe it was a coincidence?” Rochelle offered with a half-shrug.
I shook my head. “No way. That man walked in like he knew exactly where I’d be.”
“Maybe he’s having you followed,” Monica joked.
Sadly, that wasn’t even far-fetched—Cash already knew where I lived without me telling him.
“Ugh. He’s so annoying. I told him I had a date today just to fuck with him, and when I walked out, this fool was parked out front waiting for me.”
“Did you tell him it was a joke?” Monica asked.
“You know I did! Then he called Jelani to see if you were with him.” I downed my mimosa and immediately refilled my glass. “And speaking of Jelani…”
“Oh, yes!” Rochelle exclaimed, turning to Monica. “What’s going on with y’all?”
Monica’s cheeks flushed as she tried to hide her smile behind her glass.
“Aww, shit. Mo’, this man got you blushing?" I teased. “I thought you were going to let him trick off on you and keep it light.”
“I swear I was,” Monica sighed dreamily. “But we’ve been spending a lot of time together. He stays over a lot… been on a few really nice dates. He wants to take me to Miami next month.” She traced the rim of her glass with her finger, staring off into space with stars in her eyes.
“Girl, you are gone,” Rochelle laughed. “Jas, if you don’t want Money, let me know. I’m trying to see if big bro got that same kind of energy.”
She was clearly joking, but it still rubbed me the wrong way.
“He says we’re going on a date tonight,” I admitted, rolling my eyes.
“But I thought you hated him,” Monica said, throwing my words back at me.
“Ever since that man got shot and rolled into the ER, it’s been nothing but chaos every time I see him. Plus, he’s into illegal shit—I’m too grown for all that.”
“Jasmine, that man’s money is long,” Rochelle said, leaning back in her chair.
“You’re not from here, so you don’t really know how deep this shit goes.
But this ain’t no local street king type shit.
Cash took whatever his pops left him and quadrupled it.
The cops don’t bother him because he keeps the other crews in check. He’s got politicians on his payroll—”
“Allegedly,” Monica cut in, smirking.
“Allegedly, allegedly,” Rochelle echoed with a wave. “But real talk? He invests in the community without shaking people down too hard. The Banks family is easily worth a few hundred million.”
“I bet he’s gonna take you somewhere fancy,” Monica added with a nudge.
“You gotta do it for the plot,” Rochelle said, raising her glass. It’s drier than the Sahara Desert over here, so I’m living vicariously through you. I want a full report.”
* * *
I walked through my building's lobby later that afternoon, thankful to escape the heat and into some AC.