Dollar Bill (22 page)

Upon the hostess returning with wine menu in hand, Dollar allowed Hennessey to scan it and order the wine of her choice.

“By the way,” Hennessey said to Dollar, “Rutherford Alleghany is your new personal banker. He said he has some great investment ideas in order for you to make money, so he's going to put something together for you.”

“I appreciate it,” Dollar replied. “But why didn't you just be my personal banker in the first place since it looks like we are getting personal after all?”

“Didn't want to mix business,” was Hennessey's short reply.

Dollar and Hennessey shot the breeze over a bottle of Zinfandel and a nice, elegant dinner that consisted of steak and lobster, preceded by an appetizer of crab-stuffed mushrooms, and followed by a delicious dessert of cheesecake covered in caramel syrup.

When the waiter had originally brought out Dollar and Hennessey's main course, Hennessey sent her steak back to be prepared a little longer. Instead of diving right into his delicious-looking food, Dollar waited the ten extra minutes for Hennessey's plate to be served and then ate with her. That had to have gotten him bonus points with this class act of a woman.

After feeding Hennessey the last bite of the cheesecake the two had shared, Dollar signaled the waiter over to the table. He was ready to get out of there in hopes that Hennessey would invite him back to her place . . . just to talk.

“Is there anything else I can get you two tonight?” the waiter asked before handing them the bill.

“No, we're fine,” Dollar said, sticking his hand out. “Unless the lady would like something to go, for, perhaps, a midnight snack or something.”

Hennessey put her hand up and shook her head. “Oh, no, thank you. I'm fine.”

“The lady says she's fine,” Dollar told the waiter, then looked to Hennessey. “And I'd definitely have to agree.”

Hennessy put her head down to hide her blushing.

“Then here you are.” The waiter laid the bill down on the table. “I'll be back to pick it up whenever you're ready.” He smiled and walked away.

Dollar reached for the bill. Hennessey stuck her hand over top of Dollar's to stop him from picking up the bill. She then reached into her little black evening bag for money.

“Hey, I thought I was supposed to be returning the favor,” Dollar said.

“You did by having dinner with me. Your company is opulent. I feel like a priceless, angelic antique.”

“Well, damn, does that mean we fuckin'?” Dollar quickly raised his hands in both surrender and defense before she could catch and attitude. “I'm playing,” Dollar said as Hennessey shook her index finger at him.

“You are so bad,” Hennessey said, smiling. She then whispered, “But, between you and me, that's how I like 'em.”

“Really, Miss Banker with a personal office throwing words around like ‘opulent' and ‘angelic' and shit? I find that hard to believe.”

Hennessey couldn't help but laugh as Dollar imitated her. “Shut up, Eddie Murphy, and kiss me.”

“Huh,” Dollar said, being caught off guard by Hennessey's forwardness.

“Lay one on me. Pucker up. Stick your tongue down my throat. Am I speaking your language now?”

Dollar looked around the restaurant to see if anyone was watching them.

“You embarrassed?” Hennessey asked.

“Who, me?”

“You know what? Forget about the kiss. I'm sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Excuse me, waiter,” Hennessey said, raising her hand and signaling the waiter over.

Dollar couldn't figure out if this woman had an attitude with him for not kissing her. Had he bruised the lady's ego?

“You mad, baby?” Dollar asked. “Well, I'm sorry. I don't know who you mistook me for, but I'm not one of those guys who kisses on the first date. You think just 'cause you buy me an expensive meal I'm supposed to let you stick your tongue down my throat?” Dollar said, enjoying his and Hennessey's role-playing.

“I understand. I ain't trying to rush things. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. It's cool,” Hennessey said, winking at Dollar.

When the waiter came over to the table, Hennessey handed him the leather check presenter with the bill and two one-hundred dollar bills inside of it. Dollar tried to leave the tip, but Hennessey wouldn't allow him to do so. Hennessey laid a thirty dollar tip on the table and then excused herself to go to the ladies' room.

Dollar stood up when Hennessey stood up. Upon her return, she and Dollar exited the restaurant and hotel.

“So, where did you park?” Dollar asked Hennessey once they were outside. “I'll walk you to your car. Or did you valet?”

“It was much too lovely of an evening to drive. Besides, I just live a few blocks around the corner,” Hennessey said.

“Then let me walk you home,” Dollar insisted.

“No, that's okay. But if you're up to it, I wouldn't mind going for a walk. There's a little park behind the building with a penny fountain. I'm in the mood to make a wish.”

Dollar obliged Hennessey by walking her to the fountain. He dug all of the change from out of his pockets and he and Hennessey threw coins into the fountain and chatted.

“So, Dollar,” Hennessey said. “How did you get the name Dollar?”

Dollar laughed and replied, “When I was a kid I had big dreams, dreams of becoming a thousandnaire. I did and sold everything I could think of to try to make a dollar. I would try to sell eggs to a chicken if I could. And no matter what it was I was selling, everything had the same price.”

“A dollar,” Hennessey jumped in.

“You got it,” Dollar said, mocking his days as a child. “Dollar Bill. It's just one dollar, dollar bill, y'all. Pretty soon folks in the neighborhood started calling me Dollar.”

“Oh, I bet you were so cute,” Hennessey said pinching Dollar's cheek.

“Well, Miss Hennessey,” Dollar said, turning the tables. “How is it you were named after an alcoholic beverage?”

“Actually, I'm not named after an alcoholic beverage. My name is spelled ‘e-y' at the end instead of just ‘y.'”

“Okay, aaannnd? It's still pronounced the same.”

“Let me finish, why don't you?” Hennessey continued. “My mom was going to be a lawyer if it was the last thing she did in life, only she could never seem to afford law school. So, until the day she could afford it she studied law by watching every court show that existed. The last name of one of her favorite characters on one of the court shows was Hennessey, therefore, naming me Hennessey. My mom was a homebody. She had no idea that Hennessy was a cognac.”

“Nice story,” Dollar said.

“It's the truth,” Hennessey said, play nudging Dollar on his shoulder. “Besides, she was a geography buff as well. Hennessey is the name of a city in Oklahoma, but see y'all black folk only know about where da liquor store at,” Hennessey joked.

“I get where your moms was coming from,” Dollar said. “It's like that Justice shit in that movie with Pac and Janet Jackson. What was it called?”

“
Poetic Justice.
” Hennessey laughed. “You know I never thought of it like that.”

“Well, did your moms ever make it to law school?” Dollar asked.

“I'm putting her through it now,” Hennessey said proudly, almost as if she wanted to cry at just the thought of it.

Dollar turned Hennessey's face toward him with his hand and kissed her softly on the cheek. The tear that had made its way from her eye slid onto his lips. The warmth from the tear melted Dollar. He could feel where Hennessey was coming from. His own mother had been his motivation in life. Dollar wanted so badly to share his thoughts with Hennessey, but for the first time in a long time, he was afraid. He felt that there was something special about Hennessey. Dollar couldn't risk losing something before he even had it. He wasn't going to make the same mistake his father made.

Dollar sat holding Hennessey for a few more minutes.

Hennessey ended up walking Dollar back around to the hotel where he waited on the valet driver to bring his car around. When the driver drove up in Dollar's car, he exchanged the twenty dollar bill in his hand for the keys to his car.

“Well, Ms. Monroe, we must do this again sometime.”

“We must,” Hennessey said, placing a kiss on the side of Dollar's neck. Dollar tried to push up on her, but Hennessey pulled away. Her eyes said, “Not yet,” as she watched him drive away.

As Dollar drove off he was in complete bliss. He looked in his rearview mirror at Hennessey who was standing in model stance, leg stretched out, one hand on her hip, and blowing him a kiss good-bye with the other. He wanted so badly to catch it in the air and place it on his lips, but he knew that would be some corny-ass shit. So instead, he drove on.

Honey had Dollar cheesin' all the way home. Just the thought of Hennessey put a smile on his face. She was beautiful, smart like his mother, and no-nonsense like his auntie Charlene. She was two of the most influential women in Dollar's life rolled up into one. And on top of that, Dollar saw that same look in her eyes, that determination to do anything she could for her mom by any means necessary. That same look he used to possess.

Dollar made it up in his mind that Hennessey was going to be his main girl. He liked her style. She wasn't necessarily going to be the only one, not just yet. But she damn sure would be number one. Maybe, in time, the little spark that existed between the two would grow into a flame. Who knew what the future held for the two?

“So, how was you and your wife's little trip to the NYC?” Becka asked Storm as they got dressed in their dance costumes.

“It was very productive,” Storm replied as she looked over at Tommy who was lining her lips with a chocolate Mary Kay lip liner. “I ran into a dude there who said he had been up in here the last time he came through the city.”

“Oh yeah?” Becka replied, none the wiser that Storm and Tommy were having a conversation over her head. “Small world. Well, I'll holler at y'all hoochies later. It's show time.” Becka put on her cover-up and walked out of the dressing room.

“By the way,” Storm said to Tommy. “This is yours.” Storm handed Tommy a wad of cash. Tommy flipped through it, puzzled.

“What's this?” Tommy asked.

“That dude I ran into,” Storm said as she headed for the door, “well, he said the last time he was here he forgot to tip you. He wanted you to have that.”

Tommy's eyes almost watered as she flipped through the $3,000 Storm had just handed her. Storm winked at Tommy and then closed the door behind her.

“Now that's a down-ass chick,” Tommy said to herself. She tucked the money in her Crown Royal bag that was down inside her gym bag. It was almost show time for her as well.

That night at the club Tommy was supposed to handle a situation with some young buck named Rob from LA. It was something Ral had hooked up through some cat he used to cop crack from named Kill Dog. Ral had started to make runs here and there for him for a little change. Dollar thought it might have been smart of him to let the streets know he had a source of income. It wasn't worth taking the risk of someone figuring out he was behind some of the stickups going down.

Through Kill Dog, Ral learned that some kid named Rob and a couple of his boys were going to be hitting Chi-Town to check this nigga named Steelo's shit in. Supposedly, Steelo had set up a deal that went raw with some boys from LA. The LA boys were paying them Chi-Town niggaz a personal visit. Ral was getting paid to be their host while in town. Of course, after the hit he would lead them straight to the Chocolate Factory, where they, themselves, would get hit in the parking lot.

Tommy waited all night for Ral to show up with them so that she could make the call to Dollar. As it turned out, Ral and Rob and his boys were a no-show. So finally Tommy made a call to Dollar, but it wasn't the one he'd been expecting.

 

 

“Ral been spending mad loot lately,” Dollar said to Tommy.

“Have you noticed? He got all kinds of shit up in his place, and did you see the sounds he got installed in his li'l ride?”

“Umm, not really. Well, I guess,” Tommy replied, focusing on the television show she and Dollar were watching in her living room.

It had been a week since their failed hit on them LA cats. “I mean, I heard he been trickin' like mad lately, but what's new? As long as he ain't fuckin' with that shit, he straight. He could have bartered for half the shit he got. You know how he is. He'll sell a rope to a man threatening to hang himself.”

“Word,” Dollar replied, nodding his head, but not 100 percent convinced.

“This is the funniest show in the universe,” Tommy said as she continued watching television.

“Yeah, that's a funny-ass muthafucka,” Dollar said, referring to Dave Chappelle of
Chappelle's Show.
His thoughts went back to his friend. “Ral probably just been holding on to his loot from the hits, huh, and that little bit of change he gets making runs for Kill Dog? You know how sometimes people get the urge to just start spending? Yeah, he's probably just going through one of them phases.”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied, half listening to Dollar. “Ah ha ah ha. I love this show. Dis nigga crazy!”

“You probably even dip into your stash every now and then to treat you and the girls to a little something nice, huh?”

Tommy took a deep breath and looked at Dollar. She picked up the remote and turned the television off. “Dollar, what's on your mind? Just spit it out. What are you trying to say?”

“Things just ain't been feeling right lately. I mean, there's been too many interferences and circumstances. Like when we was gon' stick up kid from LA, but he turned out to be a no-show; like somebody gave him a heads-up, dropped the dime or something.”

“Ral said them niggaz wanted to handle their business and dip back out of town. What's so strange about that? Shit happens,” Tommy said in Ral's defense.

“I know, but now all of a sudden Ral got all this spending money. I guess I just been adding two and two together.”

“So, what you trying to say?” Tommy asked. “You think Ral getting paid behind our backs; that he don't want to split the pot no more so he handling shit on his own? That's ridiculous. You just noided. That means it's time for you to give this shit up, especially if you gon' start worrying about how much money your boy is spending.”

“It ain't like I'm clockin' his dollars. I'm just saying.”

“You just saying what? Next thing I know you'll be thinking Ral getting paid to talk, like he's some informant involved in a conspiracy to put you back in the joint.” Tommy laughed.

Dollar remained serious as he glared off into space.

“I was just joking. You can't honestly be thinking that,” Tommy said.

“Lately I just can't erase the thought that Ral was a hard fiend. The shit a fiend would do for a hit, you'd never know.”

“Yeah, but not turn on their partners. Not Ral. He'd die first. Besides, it wasn't a concern back when you wanted him on the team, so why should it be a concern now? He's the same Ral. Besides, he hasn't been high any of the times he's been around me.”

“Yeah, you right. I'm trippin',” Dollar said. “Turn that show back on.”

Tommy turned the show back on and in moments was back to laughing hysterically. Dollar tried to enjoy the show and Tommy's company, but something was itchin' at him. That something was Ral. Dollar couldn't help but think that his loyalty to Ral, to clean him up and help him get his shit together, might have gotten in the way of his better judgment.

“So what's been up with Storm and her girl?” Dollar asked Tommy out of the blue.

“They cool,” Tommy said. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Dollar replied with a snide look in his eye. “No reason at all.”