"Nah, Beezi, as much as I'd love to, I need to take care of business, man."
Beezi was a full-blooded African who didn't take no for an answer. By all means, he treated the people who spent bread with him like family.
"Man come on. Your father loves our wine and steak. At least let me get you a bottle to send to him."
Seeing as though he wasn't about to give up, I locked my car and headed towards the entrance. The sound of black Samba Adidas clapped against the wet concrete, as I jogged my way inside, again once more, while using my black Adidas windbreaker to protect my freshly cut hair.
The rain mixed with the wind caused it to get a little chilly, so feeling the warmth over my body had me rubbing my hands together so they could warm up. I trailed Beezi throughout the kitchen, speaking and nodding my head at everyone we passed until we stopped at his wine collection a few inches from the bar.
I ain't really a wine drinker. Pops tried to encourage me to drink it quite a few times because he said Myla put him on, but he lost me when he said sometimes it makes him feel like a bad bitch, whatever the fuck that meant, but I wasn't easily impressed.
Beezi went on and on about fine wine, as if I knew what the fuck he was talking about. Midway through his yip-yap, my eyes gazed over parts of the restaurant that were visible and my eyes landed on Sia. Amid the low lights, she stuck out in the red silk dress like a sore thumb. My eyes turned to slits, noticingthe other party. They were engaged in a cute conversation—his hands were caressing hers under the dinner table. My eyes shifted underneath the table, where his other hand was caressing her knee. I'd hate to be a party pooper, but she'll never get the benefits of treating me like a lame-ass, simp bitch. As much as I didn't want to turn Beezi's establishment into a shootout, the chances of doing so were slim.
Chapter Seven
SIA
"What took you so long to meet with me?" Beno asked.
He was a charming-ass nigga with long money, enough to make his great-grandchildren rich. We never had sex, though I know he wanted to. We've been knowing each other for years—since high school. Back then, he was an ugly, pimple-faced, gap-toothed-ass nigga on the football team, but eventually he grew into his looks and money fixed up his appearances enough to make a bitch like me do a double take.
For a while, we spoke via social media and he'd hit me up to check on me every quarter, but that was it. We never led anything on between each other that showed interest. Occasionally, he'd comment under my pictures and throw slick shots, but I never engaged in anything dealing with that.
The other night though, after my phone call with Dose, he hit me up asking to take me on a date. I thought about it long and hard, before giving in and asking him to send me the deets. Dose could fucking wait and plus I wasn't on his time, so bailingout on an ain't-ass nigga was easy. At first, I wasn't going to say anything about not showing up, but I felt like he deserved to hear something from me, instead of nothing at all, so I kept it simple.
Sorry, I can't come.
Though my phone was on silent, he called me back to back fucking back, and I ignored every call. Then eventually I turned my phone off because he was causing a disturbance.
"I don't know," I lied.
I really didn't have much to say. Honestly.
"You know," he grinned, showing a set of white veneered, chicklet teeth. "Why you playing? You know how long I've wanted you. You fine as hell even in person, Sia."
"I be so busy," I spoke, as I took a sip from my wine, letting the bitter taste kiss my throat. "Yet I made time for you."
He blushed. "Then be with me. Let's ride off into the sunset and shit."
"It ain't that easy," I grinned.
Then my smile faded as a cloud of darkness wavered over me, matching a look of confusion on Beno's face. With the quickness, an intoxicating scent loomed over me, overpowering whatever Beno had on.
My eyes grew wide, watching Dose grab a chair from an empty table nearby and scoot closer to us, hitting his knees against mine and swatting Beno's hand away. As if that wasn't enough, he leaned up and removed a gun from his waist and tapped it on the tablecloth and leaned back against the chair with his eyes zeroing in on me, as he stabbed his cheek with his tongue. The menacing glare felt like he was staring a hole through my face as chills ran over my body and up my spine.
Beno's brows were screwed up as he looked at me to say something, but for once I was speechless and a slew of questions were spiraling around my head.
How the fuck did he know I was here?
Did Nya tell him?
But she couldn't have because I didn't tell her where I was going?
None of this was making any sense right now.
The steady taps of Dose's gun sent a chilling sensation through my spine and Beno looked on like a deer in headlights.
"Sia, baby, do you know him?" Beno finally spoke, with his voice shaky just a tad bit.