“I’ve never eaten here, but my boy says this is one of the best Italian restaurants in Atlanta,” he said, pouring me a glass.
I scoffed, taking the glass from him. “I’ll be the judge of that. Not everybody does Italian food like New York.”
“Facts,” he chuckled, raising his glass. “Let’s toast—to reconnecting with old friends,” he lifted his glass.
My brow furrowed slightly, but I tapped my glass against his anyway with a quiet hum of agreement.
He ordered for us—veal parm for me, because it was my favorite, and a lasagna for him.
“So,” he said, leaning back after the waiter left. “What’s the infamous Juicy J been up to these last ten years?” he asked. “You were at the hospital when I picked you up—I’m guessing you finished nursing school?”
“Yeah, I finished a year after…” I trailed off awkwardly.
“I got locked up, Jas. We don’t have to dance around it,” he said with a soft shrug. “But I’m glad you finished school. That’s what’s up. How’d you end up in Atlanta?”
“Travel nursing,” I said. “The contracts down here pay triple what I was making at home, and honestly, I wanted to see what living outside of Queens was like.”
“I can dig it.” He replied, nodding.
He swirled his drink and tilted his head. “You got any idea who might’ve done that shit to your car?”
Of course, I spent most of the night trying to figure out who’d be crazy enough to do something so serious, and my mind kept going back to Princess—Cash’s ex-jumpoff. I don’t know how she’d find out anything about me, but it seemed like when you moved in the circles Cash did, you could find out anything you wanted to for a price.
Still, I wasn’t trying to go down the rabbit hole of the mess that had taken over my life. It was easier to pretend that it was just a random act of vandalism, even though I knew better.
“Nope,” I said tightly.
“You think it has anything to do with your dude?” he asked as he took a sip of his drink. “What was his name—Cash?”
I ran my tongue across my teeth. “Why would it have anything to do with him?”
He leaned back, one brow raised. “For real, Jas? I know you know what that nigga’s into.”
“And how would you know?”
Marcus laughed. “C’mon, Juicy. You see the whip. You already know what kind of time I’m on. I know all about Money Banks.”
A chill crept up my spine.
“Cash and I weren’t serious,” I said, straightening in my seat. “And we’re not even talking right now. So, I don’t know why anybody would be worried about me.”
The waiter appeared to let us know our food would be out soon. I offered a small smile and took it as an out.
“I’ll be back,” I told Marcus, already on my feet. I just needed a minute to breathe and get my head right.
I headed straight for the restroom and handled my business quickly, coaching myself through a few deep breaths. I was mid-exhale when I heard the door swing open behind me.
“I thought that was you.”
I glanced up in the mirror and immediately rolled my eyes.
Princess.
She walked in, her honey-blonde boho braids cascading down her back. I looked her up and down, my gaze stopping at the slight swell of her stomach in her tight maxi dress.
“I see your face healed,” I said coolly as I reached for a paper towel.
She let out a short laugh. “That’s cute. But I’m good—healed and still the prettiest bitch in the room.”
