17. Alisha
ALISHA
Business picked up at the shop thank God. Because between Deuce acting strange, the weird energy surrounding my marriage, and life in general feeling off lately, work became the only thing keeping my mind occupied. At least when I was doing nails, I didn’t have time to overthink.
That afternoon the shop stayed busy. Music played through the speakers while my girls laughed and talked shit near the pedicure stations. The smell of acrylic filled the air, women gossiping. Regular salon drama, I needed normalcy.
“You seen Shante maternity pictures?” one of my clients asked while I shaped her nails.
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“They so cute.” She beamed.
“They really are.”
They genuinely were beautiful pictures. Malik looked proud as hell too. He looked like one of those men who couldn’t believe life finally gave him something soft to love. Even though Shante looked emotional in some of the pictures she still looked beautiful. Pregnancy definitely fit her.
Still, something about her lately kept bothering me. Not enough to accuse her of anything crazy. She stayed distant. I missed my best friend.
My phone buzzed beside me interrupting my thoughts it was Deuce. Despite all the bullshit he's been on lately he still affected me.
“You cooking tonight?” he asked the second I answered.
“I guess.”
“What that mean?” He asked.
“It mean I guess.”
He chuckled. “Attitude still there huh?”
“Mhm yup.” Part of me still stayed irritated after the hotel situation. We hadn’t fully talked about it since.
“Aight,” he muttered. “I’ll bring wine home.”
“That ain’t gone fix shit.” I let him know.
“Never know.”
Before I could respond, somebody suddenly cleared their throat near the front of the shop. And immediately every instinct in my body tightened. Because standing there in a dark suit looking completely outta place inside my salon was Agent Brown again.
The whole shop energy shifted, conversations slowed. Everybody was watching quietly. Embarrassment hit me once again. Why the hell did the FBI keep showing up at my place of business?
“Can I help you?” I asked with an attitude while standing up.
Agent Brown eyes moved calmly around the salon before settling back on me. “We need to talk.”
“I’m working.” I replied.
“This won’t take long.”
I looked toward my receptionist.
“Take over for me real quick.”
Then I walked Agent Brown toward the back office trying not to look as nervous as I suddenly felt. The second the door closed behind us, I folded my arms tightly.
“What now?”
He stayed standing instead of sitting and that felt intentional. Like he wanted the conversation uncomfortable.
“You know your husband has a history.”
“Deuce’s old life ain’t got nothing to do with me.”
“It don’t?”
I frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Mrs. Carter,” he spoke, “I don’t think your husband is the man you believe he is.”
“You came down here to question my marriage?”
“No.” He replied.
“Then what?”
“I came because innocent people usually get hurt when they don’t pay attention.”
“What exactly are you accusing him of?” I asked.
“I can’t discuss an active investigation.”
“There is an investigation then.” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
Agent Brown's jaw tightened slightly, realizing he said too much. Meanwhile my heart started beating harder. Because the shit was making me nervous.
“Your husband has dangerous ties,” he continued carefully. “And if I were you…”
He paused.
“…I’d start asking questions.”
Anger started replacing nervousness inside me. One thing about me I hated people trying to play in my face. “You know what I think?” I snapped. “I think y’all mad cause my husband got money now.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Oh okay.”
I laughed bitterly while shaking my head. “Every time a Black man make something of himself, here come the Feds.”
Agent Brown's expression stayed unreadable, but he also didn’t argue back. “You think this is about race?”
“I think this about harassment.”
“No,” he replied calmly. “This is about truth.”
Before leaving, Agent Brown looked directly at me.
“One more thing, watch who you have around your daughter.” Now he was taking it too far bringing up Brittany. “You should really consider the environment she’s being raised around.”
And with that he walked out. Leaving me standing there completely speechless. By the time I stepped back onto the salon floor, everybody looked at me curiously. Trying not to stare and humiliation burned all through me.
“You okay?” my receptionist whispered.
“Yeah.”
The rest of the day felt off after that I barely focused. Barely talked and by the time my last client left my nerves were completely shot. The first thing I did once I got in my car was call Grandma Lorraine. She answered on the second ring.
“What now?” She sighed.
“Can you pick Brittany up from daycare?” I asked. I was in no mood to play and joke on the phone.
“You okay?” She asked concerned.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“I just need to talk to Deuce alone tonight.”
That was enough for Grandma.
“Mhm his ass in trouble huh?”
The way she said it told me she already knew something was wrong.
“I’ll get my grandbaby.”
“Thank you.”
Then before hanging up, she said, “Trust your spirit.”
The ride home I was deep in my thoughts.
What if Agent Brown was right? What if I really didn’t know everything about my husband anymore?
By the time I pulled into the driveway, my stomach was in knots.
I already knew this conversation was about to go left.
Deuce’s truck was already outside. Which meant he beat me home.
When I walked inside, the smell of steak and garlic hit me immediately.
Deuce stood in the kitchen pouring wine like everything in our life was normal.
“There go my wife,” he smirked.
I wasn’t in the mood at all. “We need to talk.”
His eyes lifted toward mine. “What happened?”
“The FBI came to my shop again.”
His jaw tightened. “Brown?”
“Yes Brown.”
I tossed my purse down harder than necessary before folding my arms.
“And honestly, Deuce this shit embarrassing.”
He sighed irritated. “What he want?”
“To tell me you not the good husband I think you are.”
That made his eyes narrow slightly. I stared directly at him. “What are you involved in? Cause I’m tired of people popping up questioning me like I’m some criminal wife on TV.”
“Ain’t nobody said you was a criminal’s wife.” He responded.
“But they keep showing up because of you.” This whole situation had me emotionally exhausted now. Deuce sat his wine glass down slowly before walking toward me.
“You believe them people over me?”
“I believe something ain’t right.”
“Ali…”
“No,” I interrupted. “Keep this shit real.”
I really hoped he would, but instead he laughed dryly while rubbing his beard.
“I told you they mad cause when I was in the streets they couldn’t get me on shit.”
There it was that street nigga pride again.
“So, there is street shit going on?”
“No.”
“Then why they bothering us?”
“Cause I got a record.”
“That ain’t enough for the FBI to keep showing up.”
The silence started speaking louder than his words. I looked him in his eyes. “You promised me you changed.”
“I DID.”
“Then why I feel like you lying to me?”
“Alisha,” he pleaded stepping closer, “everything I do is for us.”
That answer didn’t make me feel no better. Men always said shit like that before destroying everything around them.
“I don’t care about money if it puts us in danger.”
“Ain’t nobody in danger.”
“How would you know?”
He grabbed my arms gently trying to calm me down.
“That man mentioned Brittany today,” I admitted quietly.
Deuce's whole face changed. He said, “What about my daughter?”
“He said I should think about the environment she growing up in.”
I saw genuine rage move through Deuce's face. Deuce loved our daughter obsessively. That was one of the few things about him I never questioned.
“Ain’t nobody gone threaten my child,” he spat while pacing the kitchen floor.
“He didn’t threaten her.”
“The fuck he ain’t.
“He was warning me.” I let him know.
That made Deuce stop pacing immediately, then slowly he looked toward me. “What the fuck he warning you about?”
I folded my arms tighter. “You.”
“You know what else?” I added. I saw your little girlfriend again too.”
“Who?” He asked.
“The bitch Kim.” I snapped.
“I already told you…”
“And I already told you my intuition don’t lie.”
I rolled my eyes. “She know you too well.”
“She don’t know me.”
“Stop fucking lying!” I snapped.
My voice echoed through the kitchen. Honestly, I was tired of the weird energy, and the secrets, and feeling played with.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Where?” He asked.
“SavannahBlue.”
I noticed him mentally react to that, like he was trying to figure out why Kim kept popping up around me.
“She tried playing innocent,” I continued. “Whole time I know something happened between y’all.”
“Ain’t nothing happen.”
“Mhm.” Then I smirked. “So, I threw water in her face.”
“You did what?”
“I checked her ass.”
I expected him to deny caring or laugh maybe. But instead, Deuce looked irritated and that pissed me off.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Oh, that’s what we're doing now defending her?” I shook my head. “Wow.”
“That’s unnecessary drama.”
“Unnecessary?” I snapped. “That bitch was flirting with you right in front of me!”
“She ain’t flirt with me.”
“She called you handsome!”
“And?”
“And you looked nervous!”
Deuce rubbed his face frustrated as hell.
“Alisha, you tripping.”
“No,” I corrected. “I’m paying attention.”
Then suddenly this fool stepped closer grabbing my waist trying to soften the moment.
“Aight,” he replied. “Come here.”
I looked at him like he lost his damn mind.
“What?”
“You stressed out.”
“Nigga what?”
Before I could react, he kissed my neck softly trying to slide back into charming husband mode. That irritated me worse than the lying, that was his thing. Every time shit got complicated, he tried using affection as distraction.
“Deuce stop.”
“You really don’t want me to stop.”
“Yes, the fuck I do.”
He still kept kissing along my jaw slowly while rubbing my hips.
“You overthinking shit.”