~~~Chapter 7~~~ #2
He furrowed a brow. “That nigga bought it?”
I gulped, before sighing. “He actually did.”
He nodded. “What about the Maybach?”
I slid my tongue across my teeth. “I bought that myself.”
“How is that?” His eyes hooded.
“Hello, I’m your waitress, Chelsea. I’ll be serving you today. What can I get you guys started with?” A young white waitress questioned, interrupting our conversation.
“Oh, let me get some stuffed French toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs, with a orange mimosa,” he immediately ordered, without glancing at the menu.
“Okay, and you, ma’am?” She quizzed after tapping on the digital keypad.
“I’ll have the same, but with a vegetable omelet. Heavy on the cheese, mushrooms, onions, bell peppers, spinach, and bacon. With a mimosa too.”
“Okay. I’ll bring you guys’ drinks out first,” Chelsea promised, before stepping away.
“Okay, like I was saying, what do you do to afford that type of vehicle?” He ventured right back to his question.
I shrugged. “I don’t do anything, per say.”
“So, money just falls in your lap?”
“No, I—” I started before my phone was vibrating on the table from a FaceTime call.
Without looking, I already knew that it was Zae.
Malice stared at me, while shaking his head. “You and that hotline.”
“It’s not like that,” I denied, becoming frustrated with how things had to look, right then. My phone was creating it’s own damn narrative.
“Then how is it?” He wanted to know.
I took a deep breath, deciding to stop dancing around shit, and face it head-on. “Do you have a girl, Malice?”
He continued to stare at me unblinkingly. “Are you trying to deflect?”
“No,” I exhaled. “I wanna put everything on the floor.”
“Alright.” He nodded. “Then to answer your question, yeah. I got a gal. But I didn’t have one the night that I met you. We was broken up, and we got back together a little after I saw you.”
“So, that’s why you gave up so easily?” I curiously questioned.
“Nah,” he denied. “I took that situation with that nigga as a sign. Wasn’t no need in me putting too much energy into somebody who already got somebody.”
“I get it, but again, that wasn’t my situation. He literally let himself into my house, and waited,” I found myself explaining.
“That means that he still had access, baby.” He pointed out. “Ion even dabble in situations like that, because I know my temperament. I’ll traumatize you with the way I handle niggas. There aint no grey areas with me. It’s all or nothing.”
“But,” I stopped myself. “Okay. It really doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re back with your girl.”
He briefly paused, before continuing. “Don’t be over there looking all sad and shit. Cause you know that you don’t care, one way or another, for real.”
“That’s not true.”
He furrowed a brow. “So, you haven’t seen that nigga since the day he popped up?”
I bit the corner of my lip.
“Exactly. That’s my point, right there. We just in the wrong slots, right now. I got my gal…and Ion be on the creep shit, keeping it real—”
I pursed my lips. “You expect me to believe that you don’t cheat, Malice?”
He opened his arms. “I don’t.”
“Why? Because it’s against your religion?” I half kidded.
“Nah, I just live by a different set of rules.”
“And what’s that?”
He licked his lips, as the waitress approached us with a tray of food.
“Sorry about the delay on the drinks,” she apologized, as she placed our plates in front of us. “But the good news is that your food and drinks are now here, at the same time.” She placed both of our tall wine glasses on the table.
“Thank you,” I smirked.
“You’re welcome. You guys need anything else?”
“No, we’re fine, for now,” I responded.
“Okay, well, just let me know,” she offered, before ambling off.
“This shit smells good,” he claimed, before digging in.
I nodded, while grabbing the utensils. “Now, back to the discussion at hand. What are these set of rules you live by?”
He took a sip of his mimosa, before speaking. “That when you out here, taking chances, then you never show disloyalty to the muthafucka who can testify against you.”
I arched a brow. “So, you’re faithful because you don’t want her to snitch on you?”
“I’m faithful because I aint one of them niggas who tries to redefine what loyalty means.
It aint just about money and me taking care of shit.
If I aint got enough discipline to not fuck around, then I aint keeping it a hunnid with her.
And I damn sure can’t expect that from her, if I aint giving it. I give what I’d want to receive.”
“Oh, wow. I wasn’t expecting that,” I admitted.
“Right. So, where is the ex that won’t leave you alone?”
I sighed. “I left him in my bed, but I'm sure that he’s up now, wondering where the hell I went.”
“Damn. So, you just burnt off without saying nothing?”
“Pretty much.”
He shook his head. “He’s definitely a different type of nigga. So, it’s probably safer for you over there, anyway.”
I frowned in confusion. “Safer?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Because if you was mine, then you’d know better. Cause you’d know how shit could go. I’d shut this whole muthafuckin restaurant down.”
I smirked and rolled my eyes. “Boy, bye.”
“Okay. Think I'm playing.”
“Don’t worry, I will.” I winked. “But on another note, I’m glad that we were able to sit down and have this talk.”
“Me too.” He stuffed a piece of French toast into his mouth.
“Right. But I should probably go. So, breakfast is on me,” I offered.
He immediately shook his head. “Don’t play with me like that. I got it.”
“Okay, well, I’m about to go.” I scooted my chair away from the table.
“But you haven’t touched your food.”
I stood up. “Nah, I’m straight. Bring it home to your gal. She’ll probably enjoy it.”
He gazed up at me. “Damn, it’s like that?”
I nodded, before offering a small wave. “See you around, Mr. Malice.”
“Yeah, see you,” he responded, as I was already switching away.