Wifey (13 page)

“So am I gonna have to give up my hair salon?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well, how am I going to do that? I mean, that’s my life.”

“I’m sorry, Kira. But if you decide to help Nicole bring your husband and his organization down, you’re going to have to leave everything you’ve established behind.”

“Everything!”

“Yes. Everything,” Mr. Shapiro repeated.

I sat back in the chair and looked out Mr. Shapiro’s office window, which overlooked downtown Norfolk. I could see the entire city, almost. I began to wonder whether or not I was ready to give up everything I had built up, just like that. Then reality sunk in and that’s when I realized how miserable I was living with the very man who gave me anything I wanted. It wasn’t nothing for him to buy my home, my car, and over a hundred thousand dollars in jewels. Now, tell me, how I could walk away from that?

Then again no one knew I had over three hundred-thousand-dollars stashed away in my safe deposit box. Plus, the money Ricky gave me to put in there a couple weeks ago would put me over the four-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar mark. So, I’d be straight when I did my disappearing act. But, there’s one thing I had to do and that was move all the dough out of that deposit box. Because if push came to shove, Ricky would probably tell the Feds about the money he gave me, just to keep me from keeping it. I’d’ have to get on the move if I was trying to prevent that.

“It ain’t nothing but material things. I’ll be able to get it again,” I finally said.

“So, are you ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”

“Okay, then. I need you to sign these documents, which state that you have consented to an interview, but only if immunity was granted.”

“Did the U.S. Attorney tell you what day the meeting was gonna be?”

“No. Not yet. But I expect to get that after I visit with her today.”

“Well, call me when you find out.”

“I definitely will.”

After I signed the papers, I headed back to my house. On the way there I began to think about what I had just committed myself to doing. Not to mention there was no way I could reverse it. I was officially about to become a snitch, just so my cousin wouldn’t have to do a ten-year bid in the Fed joint. How was I going to face Ricky, knowing in the back of my mind I was about to help Nikki set him up. Was I being grimy or what?

I couldn’t think of any answers to my questions. So I thought about how much Ricky had hurt and disrespected me throughout our seven-year marriage. This was the only way I could feel justified for what I was about to do. And it worked, too.

***

As I pulled up to the house, I noticed Ricky wasn’t home, which relieved me for a bit. I rushed inside and began to take inventory of the things I would be taking with me when it was time for me to make my exit.

I started off in my bedroom first, and discovered that I might have to do some re-evaluating. I mean, truth be told, I had some nice shit. Which made me realize that I wasn’t about to leave any of my minks, furs or shoes behind. A lot of my shoes, I probably wouldn’t even be able to replace, being as though only a few of their kind were made. And after I began to pull items out of my jewelry box, I also realized that I had some hot-ass pieces. You know that shit was going with me. I wasn’t about to see it any other way.

My living room was my next stop, but the only thing I wanted out of there was my photo album collection. There was no way I would be able to replace them, either. By the time I had made my rounds around my whole entire house and sat down in the den with a bag of Lay’s potato chips and some French onion dip, Ricky made his appearance.

“Baby,” he yelled as he opened the front door, “where you at?”

“I’m in the den.” I answered him with a mouth full of food.

Ricky came running. When he got good enough in my view, he whipped out two airline tickets. “Look, baby, see! I told you I was gon’ make shit right!” he said trying to catch his breath.

“What are you talking about? And what is that?” I asked him, even though I already knew what it was.

“It’s two tickets to Europe.”

“Europe!”

“Yeah, baby. We going to Amsterdam. Everything is already paid for. And look, here’s a picture of the hotel we gon’ be staying in.” Ricky pulled out a brochure.

I took a look at it, and then I looked back at Ricky. “The hotel is nice. But, why did you pick Amsterdam outta all places in the world?”

“Because, we’ve already been to Cancun and Puerto Rico. So, I just thought we should go somewhere different this time. And not only that, I heard weed over there is legal,” Ricky continued with a smile.

“Yeah. I betcha did. That’s probably the only reason why you wanna go there.”

“Nah, it ain’t.”

“Yeah. Whatever!” I replied and handed him the brochure back.

“So, we gon’ do this, right?”

“When is it?”

“I scheduled it for Valentine’s Day, which is only two-and-a-half weeks away. So, you down?”

“I don’t care,” I said nonchalantly, trying to make it seem that I was still mad with him. But in all honesty, I was feeling real bad. I had my husband standing right in front of me with some airline tickets he just got for us to go out of the country and I was about to play a major role in getting him locked up. Damn, that was real grimy!

“That’s what’s up!” Ricky said. “I’mma give you some dough a few days before we leave, so you can go to the mall and getcha self a few things. Okay?”

“A’ight.”

“Well, here, hold on to the tickets. Put ’em up so they won’t get lost. I gotta run back out for a minute.”

“A’ight.”

“You cooking tonight?”

“What you want?”

“Anything but chicken.”

“A’ight.”

“Well, I’mma call you when I’m on my way back.”

“A’ight.”

The minute Ricky walked out that front door, I felt the pressure lift from me instantly. But at the same time, knowing he was gonna be coming back in a couple hours kind of made me feel a little edgy. Pretending like everything was gonna be alright wasn’t blending too well with my conscience. I had to convince myself that if I took this thing one step at a time, it would be over before I knew it; which was all I wanted.

***

Ricky called me like he said he would, which was right after Judge Joe Brown went off. I got up and went into the kitchen and decided to cook him a couple of salmon fillets on the George Foreman grill, it took me no time to do it.

I also threw on a pot of hot water so I could boil a few cobs of corn; being as though that was one of Ricky’s favorite vegetables. And it went real well with the salmon.

He came home about thirty minutes after he called me, which was perfect timing because dinner was hot and ready. “Hmmm, it smells good!” I heard him say as he came into the kitchen.

But I didn’t say anything. All I did was continue doing what I was doing, and that was fixing him a plate.

“Give me two of them corn on the cobs,” he continued after he reached over and looked in the pot.

“Well, get the tub of butter outta the refrigerator.”

Ricky went into the refrigerator and got the butter. Then he took a seat at the kitchen table and waited for me to bring him his plate. I took a fork out of the dishwasher, placed it on the plate and handed it to him.

“Damn this shit looks good!” he commented.

“Thanks,” I replied as I fixed my own plate.

“You talked to Nikki lately?” he asked with a mouthful of food.

“Yeah. Why?”

“What’s going on wit’ her case?” It pretty much sounded like a trick question, but I played it off and told him what he wanted to hear.

“She still might have a chance to get out of it,” I finally said.

“How much is this costing me?”

“Ten large.”

“Well, it’s not that bad.” He continued trying his best to make conversation. But before he could come up with something else to say, his cell phone started ringing.

 “Yo, wuz up, son?” he said to the caller. “I’m in the crib. So, go ’head and park your whip.”

He folded his phone back up and set it on the table.

“Any more salmon over there? ‘Cause my man Russ is outside and he might want something to eat.”

“Nah. I only cooked two filets.”

“Well, make him a sandwich or something.”

“He ain’t come here to see me. So, you do it!”

“Oh, Ma, don’t be like that. Russ is good peoples.”

“I don’t care!”

“Well, at least get him one of them Red Stripes in the refrigerator.”

Not even a minute later, Russ came knocking on the front door. Ricky rushed to the foyer to open it.

“What’s up nigga!” I heard Ricky say.

“Not too much,” Russ responded.

“Come on in the den,” Ricky told him.

As Ricky walked past the entrance to the kitchen, I got a quick look at this unfamiliar guy he called Russ. Russ was kind of tall and real ugly from a quick glance. But that NBA leather coat he had on was hot to death. I also noticed that he was carrying something in a Footlocker bag. It must have been some money he probably owed Ricky.

I hurried and got a cold Red Stripe from out of the freezer so I could be nosey.

“You wanna beer?” I asked when I approached Russ.

He looked up at me like he was mesmerized or something. And then I realized I was looking kinda sexy in the suede pants I was wearing. They made my hips sit out a couple more inches and made my ass look three times bigger than it was.

“Nah. I’m straight,” he said.

“Yo, Russ. This my wife, Kira.” Ricky introduced us. “Kira, this is my new business partner, Russ. He just got in from D.C.”

“Hi, how you doing?” Russ said.

“I’m fine. Nice to meet you,” I told him and then I made my exit.

On my way out of the den, I noticed Russ trying to get a look at my ass on the sneak tip, but Ricky was watching him like a hawk. Doing shit like that wasn’t cool when you were doing business with the chick’s man. I continued walking back into the kitchen, but, I wasn’t too far that I couldn’t hear what they were talking about.

Back in the kitchen, I sat in my chair to finish my meal. What was so crazy about it all, was that I couldn’t think about nothing else but this Russ guy. I mean, it wasn’t like he was cute or anything; because he wasn’t. I thought it was his accent because he did sound like he was from South America, or the Caribbean, or something. And not only that, but he did dress nice and he smelled good, too. Stuff like that turned me the hell on. And since it was killing me to find out what he was doing in my house, I got really quiet so I could hear what him and Ricky were talking about.

“That shit you gave me was tight! Those niggas back in D.C. love it!” I heard Russ tell Ricky.

“I know. Them Russian niggas I fuck wit’, they stuff is always on point. That’s why I’m gon’ need you to keep doin’ what you doin’. And before long, we gon’ have the whole East coast on lock!” Ricky replied.

“Sounds good to me.” Russ said, as I heard him rattle the bag. “Here’s your dough.”

It got quiet for a few seconds and then Ricky spoke. “Well, it looks like it’s all here,” he finally commented.

“Every ting!” Russ told him in his accented voice.

Both Ricky and Russ continued talking for about fifteen more minutes, which was enough time for me to straighten up the kitchen and change into a pair of booty shorts. Ricky hated me wearing them around his company. I did it anyway, ‘cause I knew it pissed him off. Now, before Russ got up to leave, I made it my business to be standing by the front door like I was trying to fix the lock on the doorknob. As Russ walked toward me; I made sure my back was facing him.

“What’s wrong wit’ the door?” Ricky asked me.

“The lock from the door knob is acting up,” I told him.

“Wait, let me take a look at it,” he volunteered.

“Oh, wait a minute. I got it. I think,” I said, quickly.

I twisted the doorknob a couple of times and then I pressed down on the lock really hard.

“Okay. Now, I got it.” I moved out of the way of Ricky and Russ.

“Nice meeting you,” Russ said to me on his way out.

“It was nice meeting you, too,” I said.

“I’mma call you in a couple of days,” Ricky told him.

“A’ight. Do that,” Russ replied.

As Ricky stood in the doorway to watch Russ get in his car, I got a quick look at him from the living room window. The car he was driving was old and dented up. I could tell that it was something he drove around in when he was riding dirty; carrying food.

Driving old-looking cars like that was another way to prevent the narcos from pulling you over.

After Russ pulled off, Ricky closed the front door, which was my cue to get the hell out of the window. I would’ve been dead wrong to let Ricky catch me sweating that nigga, especially after I showed Russ a little bit of Ricky’s property.

Nevertheless, Ricky never mentioned anything about what I was wearing. All he was concerned about was that money was rolling in and to keep it rolling, he knew he had to get more product out there. After he closed and locked the front door, he rushed right back into the den. And like his shadow, I was on his tail with twenty questions on my mind.

As I walked into the den, Ricky was shoving a Nike shoebox back into the Footlocker bag.

“Who is this guy, Russ?” I asked in a somewhat sassy way.

“He’s just another hookup of mine. That’s all.”

“You sho’ he ain’t the police?”

“Nah. That cat is far from being a narco,” Ricky began to explain. “Papi introduced me to him at the Christmas party that cat Bishop had a month ago.”

“I don’t care where you met him. You just better stop letting all these niggas know where you lay your head at!”

“Oh, nah. It ain’t like that wit’ that cat, Russ. I mean, this nigga is large. I been to his crib and everything,” Ricky told me. “His house is about the same size as ours. And he got this ole Spanish lady to come and clean his house three times a week!”

“Who cares?” I said in a tone like I wasn’t interested. But truth be told, I did care. I wanted to know everything about this Russ, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get anymore information out of Ricky. Ricky was too smart for that. So, I figured I’mma have to do a little investigating on my own. I also knew it wouldn’t be too hard to see Russ again, being as though Ricky was now dealing with him. So, I’ll have my day.