Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
CASH
I couldn’t get lil shorty off my mind, and that was a first. She was short but thick as hell.
I’d always been able to appreciate the beauty of the opposite sex without losing discipline or focus because of it, but with her, I wouldn’t deny she was a slight distraction.
The button down shirt she had on was tucked into a pair of jean shorts that gave me the perfect view of her fat ass and thick thighs.
There were a couple tattoos on them, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want a closer look.
She had wild, long, curly hair. It was blonde, and in its natural state, it went down to her arm pits.
Hazel eyes stared back at me lacking the fear a person usually had when they owed me.
I liked her fire and her willingness to protect her cousin.
The whole time she talked, I kept looking at her lips.
They were shaped like a bow, making every word that spilled from them a gift.
And they were colored red, complementing her straight white teeth .
And she smelled good—like cinnamon and vanilla. Actual cinnamon and vanilla, not perfume.
Damn.
I could not stop thinking about that woman.
After leaving the meetup, I looked into her.
Sugar Baby James, and surprisingly, that was her real name, was well known in the city for her cooking.
I liked that she catered a lot of events for free that were nonprofit or for a good cause.
And on holidays, she gave away free meals to families in need.
Under different circumstances, I might have considered getting to know her on a personal level.
“What do you think about this?” Mama asked, sliding yet another color palette in front of me.
I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the planning of the gala or any other events for that matter, that’s why I let her and event planners handle the shit. Still, she insisted on asking me certain things to make sure I did more than just pay.
I looked down at the shades of red and pink and shook my head.
“Nah. You ain’t got nothing more neutral? That looks like it’s for Valentine’s Day.”
She chuckled and shook her head as she slid another option in front of me.
“See. This is why I tell your picky ass to approve of the designs and color schemes. You say you don’t care but I know it’s because you don’t like to say what you want.
You definitely have no problem saying what you don’t want though. ”
I smiled as I looked the green palette over. The options ranged from army and olive to emerald, mint, and sage green, plus some shit I didn’t recognize.
“That’s better, but I’on want it to be just shades of green. Can they add gray or silver or some shit? ”
“Or a nice chocolate brown. I always love brown and darker green shades together. If we go light, gray and silver would work best.”
“Whatever you say, Ma. I got somebody to cater the event.”
“Who?” she questioned, marking off a dark and light shade and adding notes for the event planner to get her fabric samples in brown and gray to see as well.”
“Sugar Baby.”
Her mouth dropped before it spread into a wide smile. “How on Earth did you manage that, Cassius? Every time I try to get her for the spring gala, she’s always booked.”
“Well, let’s just say she couldn’t say no this time around.”
“Ooh I’m so excited I don’t even want to ask you what that means.”
I chuckled as I pulled my vibrating phone out of my pocket. Since Rhakeem knew I was with my mama, I figured it was something important if he was calling.
“Let me know what you want me to have her cook,” I said as I stood. “I’ma get with her some time next week maybe to go over everything.” As I accepted the call, I headed out of the dining room. “Wassup?”
“I won’t say anything now, but we need to meet up after you leave Mama house.”
“Aight. Is it bad?”
“Nothing we can’t figure out, but it’s a slight loss.”
“Say less. I’ll pull up on you.”
“Aight.”
I didn’t think too much about what he could have wanted to talk about, so I devoted my attention to Mama for another couple of hours before I left.
Instead of going straight home, I pulled up to Rhakeem’s barber shop.
Like me, he had a legit business too. I took in all the faces of the men that were inside as I headed straight through.
While some bobbed their heads to greet me, others avoided my gaze out of fear.
At Rhakeem’s office door, I knocked. There was honestly no telling what you’d catch his ass doing if you entered without permission.
About a minute passed before he told me to come in, and I chuckled at the sight of a woman wiping her mouth as he adjusted his clothes.
She looked at me and gave me a shy smile before scurrying out of the office.
Rhakeem offered me his hand to shake, and when I stared at it, he laughed.
“It’s clean, nigga.”
With that truth, I shook his hand, then we sat on opposite sides of his desk.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked, not wanting to be out and about for too long.
I’d gotten to that place in my grind where I didn’t have to handle business on my own.
I checked in with my team to make sure things were running smoothly and collected my money.
Most of my evenings were spent in the peace and quiet solitude of my home, and after talking to people all damn day, I couldn’t wait to get there.
“Bun was short. He said he hasn’t figured out who was short from his team because his money man let everyone drop their shit before he counted it.”
I scoffed. “I know you fucking lying.”
Rhakeem’s head shook. “Wish I was. I do believe Bun. I don’t think he’s the one on that bullshit. He was pissed and offered to handle it, but I told him I wanted to make you aware first.”
“Is this normal behavior for his money man? What’s his name?”
“Leo, and Bun said this is the first time he’s ever done something so sloppy.”
I thought about it for a while before saying, “If Leo is lying, he told that lie to protect the team, and he’s the one that stole the money.”
“That’s what I was thinking. He knew if he tried to pin that shit on anyone that they’d kill him. So to save himself, he had everybody drop at the same time. Now he has the excuse of not knowing who it was when it was really him.”
“Or, he’s protecting the one that stole the money,” I countered.
“Maybe because he’s getting a cut, or maybe because he fears them more than he fears Bun.
Either way, it’s clear he don’t know and fear me to not have my fucking money.
” Standing, I charged him to, “Treat that mane like God ain’t watching and find out who took my money. After that, send him to Jesus.”
“You got it, brotha.”
We shook hands before I headed out, now, in need of a drink.
This was the second time this month someone had played with my money, and I didn’t understand why.
Had niggas forgotten who I was because I wasn’t showing my face and power in these streets?
The last thing they wanted was for me to return to the menace I was to build my empire, but I would—with no hesitation.