Forever a Hustler's Wife (10 page)

CHAPTER 12

The Brain on Drugs

N
asir and Des met Felix at his upscale condo located in

Virginia Beach. Although it was an expensive spot on the Atlantic Ocean in a gated community, the furnishings were very simple, which surprised Des.

A half-naked girl wearing spandex short-shorts with the cheeks of her butt hanging out and a halter top with her nipples barely covered answered the door. She showed Des and Nasir into a room with a sofa, two chairs, and big-screen television and handed them the remote before leaving. Another girl wearing a micro-miniskirt had been sitting on the sofa, but she got up and left when they came in. Nasir and Des were there for about ten minutes when a third girl, a cigarette hanging from her mouth, walked in to retrieve a plastic bag that was sitting on the floor beside the sofa.

Pretty soon Felix, wearing a plush robe that looked like he had copped it from Hugh Hefner’s closet, entered the room.

“Nas,” he said slowly, his Spanish accent making it sound like the name had five syllables, knowing full well that Nasir hated to be referred to that way.

Nasir and Des both stood to greet Felix.

“How you doing?” he said to Des, avoiding eye contact as he wiped his runny nose with a handkerchief.

“I’m peace.” Des nodded, studying the man in front of him.

“How’s business?” Felix redirected his attention to Nasir.

“Business is good on my end,” Nasir answered. “And yours?”

“Business is good for me, as long as it’s good for you, my man.” Felix smiled as his eyes scanned the faces of both men.

The small talk went on for a few more minutes, and Des continued his study of Felix’s body language. Felix continued to avoid looking Des directly in the eyes. As Des watched the transaction between his and Rico’s nephews, he began to think about something that had never crossed his mind before: Although Rico had tried to express his gratitude to Des by giving him a million dollars in cash the night he and Yarni were married, there was really nothing Rico could ever give him to repay the ten years of Des’s life that had been stolen while he was in prison.

Make no mistake about it, a million dollars was a nice piece of change to get one’s hands on, but at the end of the day, ten years of life were worth much more than that. That would equal a hundred thousand a year. Des would have made that in a slow month while he was on the street. The more he thought about it, the angrier Des got that he had accepted such a loss for such an unappreciative motherfucker like Felix, who had never offered Des even a simple thanks.

“Is this the same stuff that you had the last time?” Nasir asked.

“Same shipment, same shit,” Felix responded.

Felix had raw dope that could take twelve ounces of cut to every ounce of pure dope. He charged twelve hundred an ounce, which was a natural steal. Nasir could turn ten ounces into fifty o’s that could still hold a cut on the street, and sell them for eighteen hundred, the best price in the state and on most of the East Coast. The profit was enormous, and the turnover rate was rapid, eliminating any competition, especially from Monte, who Nasir used to cop from.

Nasir was there to buy seven thousand grams. He had just over three hundred thousand dollars in his overnight bag, more than enough to make the purchase. The swap went smoothly, and he and Des were out of there in less than thirty minutes.

Once they were back in the car, Nasir asked, “So, Unc, what you think about this motherfucker?” He turned around in the passenger seat so he was facing Des as he drove.

“The chump got a dope habit, and an expensive one at that. That dope dick keeps money and drugs keep da hos around,” Des said, never taking his eyes off the road. “Like flies on shit.”

As they rode back to Richmond, Des shared some of his war stories and lessons with Nasir, and, as always, Nasir absorbed every word.

“Always let an arrogant man think he’s smarter than you, and he will provide you the opportunity to sit back and watch him play himself.”

CHAPTER 13

Filet Mignon

Y
arni went into the nursery to check on Desi and was relieved to find her baby girl sleeping peacefully. Leaning into the crib, she rubbed Desi’s belly and kissed her on the forehead, then walked back into her bedroom and climbed into bed. She had just taken a long, hot soak in the Jacuzzi and had slipped into her black La Perla nightgown. The satin gown brushed up against her skin like a soft, much-needed hug. Although it was almost eleven o’clock at night and she had court the next morning, Yarni couldn’t go to sleep. Between going over her case file and checking on Desi, she was running out of things to do with herself, so she propped herself up on her heavenly down feather pillows, leaned back, picked up the remote that lay on the bed, and flipped the channels on the television.

She was watching the end of
Chappelle’s Show
when her cell phone rang.

She looked down at the number displayed on the caller ID and smiled. “Hey, baby,” she whispered into the phone.

“Hey, boo. I got caught up, but I’m on my way home,” Des informed his wife. She could hear traffic in the background and figured that he must be driving, making his way home to his family. She smiled and felt her heart quicken at the thought of seeing him.

“Okay, baby,” she said, “can’t wait ’til you get here.”

“The battery on my phone is dying, and the charger is in the other car, so I can’t talk, but I’ll be home in a minute.”

“I hear you. That’s cool,” she assured him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

After they hung up, Yarni tried to watch television, but she found herself watching the clock. One o’clock turned into two o’clock, and two o’clock soon became three o’clock; still there was no Des. Yarni knew that she couldn’t stay up all night playing the role of watchman. She had to get some rest for court, so she considered taking a Tylenol PM to knock herself out, but she knew that would make her feel groggy the next morning, and she had to be on her A game in court. She once again checked on Desi, and after changing the baby’s diaper and giving her a bottle, she took a Percocet which would put her out like a light. She just prayed that if Desi woke up, her father would have made it home to tend to his daughter. She’d be feeling a bit sluggish and groggy the next morning, but it would be worth it to escape her misery for the moment.

The next day the preliminary hearing for the Samuel Johnson case went much better than Yarni expected. Although she was a little sluggish from the Percocet, she didn’t let that keep her from doing the best possible job on Samuel’s case.

After court, Marvin Sledge was so excited that he made plans to take Yarni out to celebrate. She agreed until Des called at the last minute wanting her to go out with him and Desi. The decision wasn’t hard to make. It was Des—her man, her husband, her child’s father, the love of her life—over the womanizer Marvin Sledge any day.

Yarni and Des settled into their seats at the plush five-star restaurant, and Yarni felt the stress of the day melt away.

“Yes, I will have the filet mignon, medium well,” Yarni told the waitress when she came to take their orders. “Please make sure that it isn’t wrapped in the bacon.”

“Of course, ma’am,” the waitress said before turning to Des. “And what would you like, sir?”

Des looked at the menu thoughtfully before snapping it closed. “I’ll have the crab cake dinner with a fully loaded baked potato. On second thought, forget the crab cakes. I’ll take a filet mignon as well, and I don’t want bacon on mine either.”

“You still want the potato?” the waitress asked.

Des nodded, and the woman collected the menus and prepared to leave.

“Can I get you something to drink in the meanwhile?”

Des looked at Yarni, and she shook her head. “Just water,” he said.

While they waited for their food, they sat and talked, mainly about the baby. Des could see clearly that Yarni was a bit aggravated. He couldn’t put his finger on why.

“You okay?” he asked, grabbing her hand.

She nodded. “Just a little tired,” she said, suddenly feeling the stress of the day returning.

“How’d everything go in court?”

“It went well, better than I expected, actually.” She gave him a tired smile.

“You want to leave?” he asked, looking concerned. “You look really tired.”

She shook her head as she gave him a dry laugh. “I am tired. I have a newborn at home, and I’m fighting one of the biggest cases of my career. I have a lot going on.” She smiled at him wickedly. “If that’s not enough, my husband was missing in action last night after he told me he was on his way home, so I’m not getting enough sex.”

He laughed as he squeezed her hand before kissing it. “I’m sorry, baby. Something came up that I had to deal with.”

“I figured as much,” she said.

They both grew quiet, both staring at Desi, who had fallen asleep in her high chair.

“I can’t believe how beautiful she is,” Des said, gazing at his daughter. He turned to his wife. “You know, I don’t think I’ve told you, but you’re doing a great job with her. I know this has to be hard on you…. I know it’s a big adjustment, but baby, know I’m here for you, and my mom is, too. You have people who want to help you with Desi. Promise me you’ll lean on us if you need to.”

Before Yarni could answer, their food arrived. She squeezed Des’s hand in appreciation. Then looked down at her plate, preparing to dig in.

Her steak was wrapped in bacon. Yarni turned her attention to the waitress and stared at the woman in disbelief, frowning as she said in a firm tone, “Didn’t I…precisely tell you…that…I,” she stressed each and every word to the rhythm of her animated neck, “did not want my steak wrapped in bacon?”

“I will get it fixed for you, ma’am.” The waitress reached for Yarni’s plate.

“How long is that going to take?”

“Probably about twenty minutes, since you had it medium well.”

Des jumped in, seeing the fire in his wife’s eyes, “Can’t you pull someone else’s steak that’s almost done?”

“Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem,” the waitress replied, knowing good and well that she was under the gun.

“This don’t make no motherfucking sense,” Yarni snapped on Des.

“You’re absolutely right, baby,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t want you stressing, baby. We’re supposed to be here celebrating. Do you want my steak?”

She ignored his question. “I can’t celebrate when they’re trying to force pork down my throat.”

“You’re right about that,” Des said, cutting into his steak. He tried to feed her a piece, but she shook her head.

“I’ll wait for mine,” she said. “You go ahead.”

He shrugged and started to eat.

“Excuse me,” another patron said, stopping at their table, “she’s so adorable.” The woman went to touch Desi, but thought twice about it after Yarni glared at her.

“Thanks.” Des smiled at the couple, but Yarni didn’t open her mouth.

The server appeared with a hot plate in her hand, with Yarni’s food on it. “Wow, that was quick.” Yarni gave a slight smile, but she had peeped the game.

“I pulled one like you suggested,” she said to Des.

“Well, look,”—Yarni looked hard at the woman’s name tag—“Tonya, I’m going to ask you something: Isn’t this the same steak, and you just pulled the bacon off it?”

“No, ma’am,” the server said. “We—I would never do anything like that.”

“Listen, let me explain something to you.”

The waitress looked at Yarni as she went on.

“I don’t eat pork at all. The last time I was at somebody’s home for a Thanksgiving dinner, I ate greens with pork in them, and I turned purple. My whole body was swollen up from an allergic reaction. That was my aunt’s house, but this is a multimillion-dollar franchise, and
now
I have my law degree and I know the power of a lawsuit.”

Yarni knew she had the server’s attention. “Let me ask you again.” She asked the question as if she was in court, “Did they take the bacon off my steak, or did they give me a new one?”

“Ummm, ummm, I don’t know, let me check.” Tonya picked up the plate from in front of Yarni and ran back to the kitchen.

“You do just that,” Yarni said to the server’s back.

After the waitress was gone, Des spoke, “Baby, here, you can have the rest of mine.” He felt really bad about the whole situation.

“I don’t want yours, boo. I’m good.”

The server reappeared. “They’re cooking you a new one.”

“So, they had just taken the bacon off it, huh?”

“Well, yes, since you never said you were allergic.”

“Why the
fuuuck
does it make a difference if I’m allergic? What happened to the customer having it her way?” There was no winning with Yarni. “As a matter of fact, get me the damn manager—
now.
”

The manager didn’t have to be directed to the table because she could see the smoke coming from Yarni’s head.

“Ma’am, I’m terribly sorry for this whole mix-up. I’m going to take this steak off your bill.”

“I know you are. You weren’t expecting me to pay for it, were you?”

“No, ma’am. I wasn’t.” The manager stayed professional.

“You should be paying for our whole dinner simply because of the great inconvenience. My husband is not able to enjoy his meal because he’s been sidetracked with my drama,” Yarni said, getting louder by the second. Other patrons were starting to look at them.

“The meal is on the house, and please let me get you a drink. What would you like?” the manager asked, trying her best to appease Yarni.

“I just want my shit cooked right. Who can drink on an empty stomach? And not to mention we have our baby with us!” She pointed to Desi.

“Your food will be out very shortly,” the manager said, trying to do her very best to make Yarni happy, but Yarni was making it very hard for her.

“Thank you,” Yarni said in a tone that indicated: I’m done with you now.

“Yes, ma’am.” The manager walked away.

“Baby, let me apologize for being out so late and caught up in the Nasir stuff.”

Yarni interrupted. “I have to go the ladies’ room.” She grabbed her Yves Saint Laurent bag and headed to the restroom.

Des knew a great deal of her anger and disappointment in him was being taken out on the restaurant, but he had to come up with something to get back in Yarni’s good graces; she was like a Mack truck when she was on a rampage and would roll over everything in sight.

He had to figure something out—and quick. He reached for his cell phone and called Sister Khadijah.

“Hey,” Des said, after getting Khadijah on the phone, “what are you doing?”

“Talking to Ahmeen on the other line. What can I do for you?”

“I need you to pull some strings to get the best seats in the house to the old-school concert that’s coming up.”

“Consider it done. The promoter is Disco, a client of ours, so he’ll make it happen.”

“Cool. I’m going to take Yarni. She needs a break. She has a lot going on right now.”

“I thought you didn’t like crowds,” Khadijah reminded him.

“Anything for my wifey.”

“It must be nice. I wish my man was here to do things like this. I know Yarni is going to love it!”

Back in the ladies’ room, Yarni looked in the mirror and threw some water on her face, lotioned her hands, then went into her decorative pill bottle and pulled out a Xanax. She exited the bathroom and went to the water fountain to take the pill before heading back to the table.

As she returned, the waitress was bringing her food.

“It all looks good. I’m famished,” she said. She seemed like a different person. She went from being Des’s lion to his cub. One minute she was a bull in the china shop, the next minute she was as cool as the other side of the pillow. He wrote off her mood swings as the stress of having a high-powered career, being a new mommy, and, of course, living the life of a hustler’s wife.