Chapter 7
Dominique ‘Dolo’ Shaw
Long day of work today. My day started at twelve this afternoon, and here it was, a little after ten, and I still hadn’t made it home. These big ass dreams, and ideas of mine had been demanding a lot of my time lately.
Orlando and Tampa was still something that was in the works.
I was serious about expanding. I wasn’t just trying to be the hottest nigga in Miami.
I wanted my shit to spread. I needed money coming in from so many ways that I didn’t know what the fuck to do with it.
Shit was still floating with the security company too.
That’s the main thing that was taking up a lot of my time these days.
I couldn’t cut any corners with it. I had to do everything the right way, and that’s why the process was taking so long.
We were getting somewhere though, and that’s what mattered to me.
Since I had all this shit going on, I decided to step out tonight since the workday was over.
I had Kendrick with me, Bray, my little brother, and other members of MBM that wanted to slide out with us tonight.
We were hitting the strip club. The same strip club that Ari worked.
I fucked with a lot of the clubs in Miami, but this club was a spot that I liked to come because it felt like home here.
I was cool with the owner. Mark knew to let all the security out front know that me, and my crew could walk in this bitch without getting searched. A lot of other clubs in Miami were strict. They didn’t like to have us walking in there strapped.
I wanted to holla at Mark tonight. Speak a little business with him.
I wasn’t trying to take away from the crew that he already had working the door, but shit, I wanted to put it out there that I was getting ready to start up a company myself, and I just wanted to pitch the idea to him and find out how he felt about it.
It was easy for us to get in. Kendrick called down while we were on the way, letting them know that we were coming, and asking them if they could get a section for us.
They’ll throw niggas out of their section if they knew we were coming and give it to us because they knew when MBM came out, that we spent large amounts of money on the strippers.
I was a Miami boy. I loved coming out, watching the strippers prance around in little too nothing, and work the pole.
“Ya’ll boys can get comfortable. Ima go up top and holla at Mark. I’ll be back,” I let Kendrick know, as I stood, getting ready to walk out of the section.
“You good? You need me to go with you?” he asked.
“I’m good. Get the bottles. We throwing money tonight, so when they come over here, let them know we need ones. I’ll be back,” I stated, reaching my hand out, so that I could slap it up with him.
I took two steps down to make it out of the section, and I walked through the crowded club, so that I could make it over to the back.
There was another set of security that was guarding the steps, but my face was good here, so after slapping it up with them, and letting them know that I wanted to speak with Mark, they moved away from the steps, letting me know that it was cool that I went up.
I could hear them speaking into the radios, telling Mark that I was headed up.
I reached the second floor, walked down a little bit, and I found Mark’s office.
I knocked on the door, and it took a few minutes for the door to open.
When the door opened, one of the strippers walked out, and she was fixing the top that she had on.
Mark stood his ass there, zipping up his pants.
I already knew what the fuck was going on from there.
That’s why I didn’t fuck strippers. I loved to watch them dance, but I couldn’t fuck them.
Well, in my younger years I would, but now that I’m older, I swear I wouldn’t look their way.
Strippers were going to fuck any, and everything, especially if the price was right, and that’s not the kind of pussy that I liked.
I liked low mileage pussy. I liked the kind of pussy where I could bring it around, and fifty niggas couldn’t say that they fucked.
“Dolo, what’s good man?” Mark asked me, sticking his hand out, thinking that I was going to slap hands with him, but I looked at his hand like it was infected, shook my head, and laughed.
“Hell nah, nigga. You just finished fuckin, and I know you didn’t wash your hands. Watch out bruh,” I said it in a joking kind of way, but I was dead ass serious.
Mark laughed because he knew that the shit that I was talking was true.
“What’s good with you? Come inside,” he said, stepping out of the way, so that I could walk into his office.
I didn’t even want to take a seat. I got the impression that this man be in here fuckin on all these girls.
Probably be fuckin them in the chairs and everything, so I was going to stand and talk to him.
When I used to fuck around with Jazelle, I remember asking her a few times if she was fuckin Mark.
Not because I was trying to check her or no shit like that, but I knew how club shit worked.
Often times when a lot of the bottle girls got special treatment, it’s because the boss was crushing on them, or they were fuckin the boss.
Jazelle swore that she never fucked this nigga, and that she was just good at her job, which is why Mark kept her in all the good sections.
Mark had a restroom in his office, so I watched him as he went in, and he kept the door open.
I could see him washing his hands, and when he dried them with paper towel.
Once he finished, he walked over to me, standing on the side of me.
Mark was tall. A little taller than me. I respected what he had going on at this club. It was his money maker.
“What’s going on? My people treating you good? I’m going to send a couple of bottles to your section. I have to. You treat my dancers, and my bottle girls good any time that you come in here. Is it just you, or you have the whole crew with you?” he wanted to know.
“I appreciate that. It’s not the whole crew, but I got enough of them with me,” I responded.
“Cool. Cool. Ay, I was hoping that you were going to come by because I wanted to offer my condolences to you about Mook. I don’t like to get in the middle of other people’s business, but I did hear that you and him weren’t on good terms. Even with that, I know that at one point that was your boy.
Whether you were on good terms with him or not when he passed, I know that shit gotta hurt you, so my condolences to you,” he said to me.
I didn’t speak on it, but truth is, it did hurt a nigga a little bit to know that Mook overdosed like that.
I felt like niggas were going to think that I was a bitch for feeling a little bad about what happened to him, so I chose to keep quiet about it.
I won’t lie, I even thought about attending his services, but I think it would be best if I didn’t.
“I appreciate that, man,” I let him know.
“So, what’s up? You just came up here to speak, or you wanted to talk to me about something specific?” he asked, switching gears with me.
“Yeah. I got some business that I want to talk to you about,” I started, and he laughed when I said that, and then shook his head.
“Dolo, you my guy, and I fuck with you, but I told your ass a couple of years ago that you not about to be running no drugs through my club. I feel like this shit stay hot anyways. Niggas be in this bitch beefing, and at one point, it felt like it was a shootout taking place just about every weekend. Cops just got off my ass and stopped coming down here fuckin with me. If that’s the business that you came down here to talk to me about, you know I can’t help you out with that man,” he assumed.
“Nah man. When I came at you a couple of years ago with that, I respected your decision. This not my way of coming back at you, trying to put pressure on you to do that for me. This something different that I’m coming at you about.
Legit business. No cutting corners, back door business, none of that shit.
It’s legit. I been having big meetings with different people all week, trying to get the ball running.
I’m trying to have event coverage, clubs, private security for celebrities, all that shit,” I told him.
He had this look in his eyes, as if he was trying to read me.
It took him a few seconds to eventually nod his head.
“That business move makes sense for you. I can see that being another hustle for you,” he went on.
“That’s what everybody tells me when I bring it to them. My girl came to me with the idea,” I let him know.
“I fuck with that. What you need from me though?” he inquired.
“Shit, an opportunity. Once I get everything running with the business, let me put in for the security contract over here. You ain’t even got to give it all to me just off the strength of my face being good with you.
We can start small. When I get men, put them on for your slowest days out of the week.
I don’t believe in easy handouts. Start me out small, and let me prove myself to you,” I went on.
Again, he looked at me with a serious look on his face.
“The niggas I got working security is family. My cousins and shit. They’ll feel some kind of way if I got rid of them, and replaced them with your guys,” I respected that answer from him, and I knew that it was going to be something that he said, which is why I already had a response cooking.