Chapter Forty
Forty
Dinner at Chez Annie’s, a French restaurant on the Lower East Side. Just Abimbola and me. Thank God—that Cassius woman gives me the creeps.
“You look beautiful, Chevanese,” Abimbola whispered in my ear as he pulled my chair out for me.
“Thank you.”
And I did look beautiful. After Noah ran me out of my bed with his porn videos, I decided to use the last bit of the money to get a wash and set, as well as a manicure. I wanted a salt scrub but was down to twenty dollars, and not even Brooklyn spas were that cheap.
“So have you thought about my offer?” he said as he unfolded his linen napkin and spread it across his lap.
“Yes, I have,” I said.
“And?” He leaned forward expectantly.
“And…I’ll do it,” I said.
His face lit up and he clapped his hands together. “Waiter, a bottle of your best Merlot, please!” he boomed across the small dining establishment.
I made a face at the mention of Merlot. Red wine is not a favorite of mine.
“But,” I interjected, bringing his joy to a halt, “I’ll need to have double the money you promised.”
I’d had a coming-to-Jesus session with myself after that nightmare, and if I was going to put my life in jeopardy, I was going to have to get more than a measly three thousand dollars.
Abimbola leaned back into his chair and folded his hands across his chest. Those bulging eyes of his studied me for a while, and then he unfolded his arms, leaned forward again, and brought his hands down onto the table. “You are a shrewd businesswoman, Chevanese,” he said with a wry smile.
I nodded my head, quite proud of my business savvy.
“I will pay you another three thousand upon delivery. But,” he said, holding one long index finger up, “you will get forty bags of Hades instead of twenty.”
I didn’t expect a “but.” I stared down at the blue linen tablecloth as I considered his offer. What was the harm of swallowing twenty more bags?
“Deal,” I said.
“Deal,” he repeated and stuck his hand out for me to shake.