Chapter Two
The Deal
Ronald pulled into the parking lot ten minutes early. Nate hated waiting.
The meeting spot wasn’t marked on any map. It was an old seafood restaurant tucked between an abandoned warehouse and a pawn shop on the edge of the city. From the outside, it looked forgotten. Inside, it was where businessmen, politicians, hustlers, and street legends occasionally crossed paths without asking too many questions. Nate believed real money wasn’t made on corners. It was made at tables.
Ronald stepped inside, immediately catching the aroma of butter, garlic, and fresh seafood. The soft sound of jazz floated through the restaurant, replacing the chaos of the streets outside. A hostess nodded toward the back.
“He’s waiting.”
Ronald smiled.
“Of course he is.”
?
Nathan Carter looked exactly the way Ronald imagined success should look. Tailored navy suit.
Italian loafers.
Diamond cufflinks.
A gold watch that probably cost more than most people’s cars. Yet Nate never flaunted wealth. He wore it the way some men wore confidence. Like it belonged to him.
“About time,” Nate said with a grin. “I’ve been here five minutes.”
“That’s four minutes too late.”
Ronald laughed as he slid into the booth. “You always gotta be dramatic?”
“No,” Nate answered. “Only when somebody got potential.” A waitress appeared before Ronald could answer. “The usual?” she asked Nate.
“You know it.”
She looked toward Ronald.
“You eating?”
Before Ronald could speak, Nate answered for him. “He is today.”
?
A few minutes later the table filled with crab cakes, lobster tails, filet mignon, roasted potatoes, and grilled asparagus. Ronald stared at the spread.
“You serious?”
Nate cut into his steak.
“Ever notice poor people celebrate when they make money?” Ronald shrugged.
“I guess.”
“We buy bottles.”
“Yeah.”
“We buy jewelry.”
“Yeah.”
“We throw parties.”
“Facts.”
Nate leaned forward.
“Rich people?”
He sliced another piece of steak.
“They buy freedom.”
The words settled over the table.
Ronald had never thought about it like that. “You know why you’re still hustling?” Nate asked. “I’m trying to get rich.”
“No.”
Nate shook his head.
“You’re trying to look rich.”
?
For the first time in years, Ronald didn’t have an answer. Nate had a habit of exposing truths people tried to hide from themselves. “You made twelve hundred last week.” Ronald looked surprised.
“You counting my money now?”
“I don’t have to.”
Nate smiled.
“I know your habits.”
“You made twelve hundred.”
“You probably spent fifteen.”
Ronald looked away.
The silence answered the question.
“You bought sneakers.”
Nate continued eating.
“You paid for three dinners.”
“You rented a section in a club.”
“You probably gave one of them girls money because she called you crying.” Ronald laughed.
“You got cameras following me?”
“No.”
“I used to be you.”
?
For a while neither man spoke.
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the restaurant windows. Nate finally reached into his jacket and placed a folded envelope on the table. Ronald looked down at it.
“What’s that?”
“Your opportunity.”
He opened it.
Inside were numbers.
Phone numbers.
Addresses.
Shipment dates.
Dollar amounts that made his heartbeat quicken. “This…”
Ronald looked back up.
“This real?”
Nate nodded.
“New plug.”
“Solid product.”
“Moves weight nobody around here can touch.” Ronald’s mind raced.
“How much money?”
Nate smiled.
“Enough to change your life.”
?
Ronald leaned back in his chair.
His palms suddenly felt sweaty.
Everything he’d dreamed about was sitting inside one envelope. Luxury cars.
Trips overseas.
A condo overlooking the ocean.
Never worrying about bills again.
It was finally possible.
“So what’s the catch?” Ronald asked. Nate laughed.
“There it is.”
“I knew you’d ask.”
He folded his napkin carefully before speaking. “The catch ain’t the business.”
“It’s you.”
Ronald frowned.
“What that supposed to mean?”
Nate pointed across the table.
“You.”
“You spend money like it insults you to save it.” “You trust women too fast.”
“You party too much.”
“You think because people clap for you that they’re loyal.” He paused.
“You’ve got champagne habits on beer discipline.” The words landed harder than Ronald expected. “You can make half a million dollars,” Nate continued. “But if you don’t control yourself…” “…you’ll die broke.”
?
The waitress returned with dessert.
Nate waved it away.
“We’re good.”
After she left, he slid the envelope toward Ronald. “If you take this…”
“…your life changes.”
Ronald stared at it.
He thought about the apartment.
The overdue bills.
The endless hustle.
The nights that always ended feeling empty. Then he thought about everything he’d ever wanted. “I’m in.”
Nate smiled, but it wasn’t the smile Ronald expected. It looked almost…
…sad.
He reached across the table and shook Ronald’s hand. “I figured you would.”
?
As they walked toward the parking lot, the rain had stopped. The city lights reflected across the wet pavement like scattered diamonds. Nate lit a cigar and looked toward the skyline. “You know why I fool with you, Squirrel?” Ronald shrugged.
“Because I make you money?”
Nate laughed.
“Nah.”
“Because twenty years ago…”
“I was sitting exactly where you’re standing.” Ronald looked at him.
“And?”
Nate took one slow pull from the cigar before answering. “I thought the money was going to save me.” He climbed into his car.
“It didn’t.”
Before Ronald could ask what he meant, Nate closed the door and drove away. Ronald stood alone in the parking lot, the envelope tucked beneath his arm. It felt heavier than paper.
It felt like destiny.
He didn’t know it yet…
…but the biggest deal of his life wasn’t the one inside the envelope. It was the deal he had just made with himself. And every choice after that would carry a price. End of Chapter Two