My pussy clenched. He wasn't playing either, I could see it in his eyes. So I tried on the Balenciaga’s. He bought those too.
Next was the jewelry store. I saw the tennis bracelets in the case and my eyes lit up.
"You want that?" Sosa asked, his hand on my lower back.
"It's pretty but bae, you just spent—" He turned to the jeweler. "Aye, my man. Let me see that tennis bracelet. The one with the bigger diamonds."
"Sir, that particular piece is fifteen thousand—"
"I ain't ask you how much it cost. I said let me see it." Sosa's tone left no room for argument.
The jeweler quickly pulled it out, and Sosa took it, grabbing my wrist and clasping it on himself. He held my hand up, looking at how the diamonds caught the light against my brown skin.
"Perfect," he said. Then to the jeweler, "We taking it. And let me see what you got in them chains. I want something with her initial on it. Big. Iced out."
"Sosa, you doing too much—"
He grabbed my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. Until then, let me do what I do. Understood?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, baby."
"Good girl." He kissed me slow and deep right there in the store, his tongue sliding against mine. When he pulled back, I was dizzy.
"Now stand there and look pretty while I handle this."
He ended up buying the bracelet and a custom pendant with a "Y" covered in diamonds. Twenty-three thousand dollars total. He ain't even flinch.
"Come on," he said, taking my hand. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."
* * *
The soul food restaurant was packed but they had a table ready for us soon as we walked in because Sosa had called ahead. He always did shit like that. Planned everything out so I never had to wait, never had to stress.
We was seated in a booth in the back, and that's when I noticed them. Three bitches sitting across the restaurant, all of them staring.
Two of them was regular, brown skin, one tall, one with box braids.
But it was the third one that had my blood pressure rising.
Light-skinned. Short pixie cut. Thick as fuck in a dress that was barely legal. And she kept looking at Sosa with this little smirk on her face like she knew something I didn't.
"Babe," I said, trying to keep my voice level. "You know them hoes over there?"
Sosa looked up from his menu, his eyes following my gaze. His jaw tightened just a little, it was so quick I almost missed it, before he looked back down.
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Business shit. We run in the same circles." He took a sip of his water. "The light-skin one, Sheree, she own a club on the West Side. Why? You wanna go beat her ass?"
"Don't play with me right now."
"I'm dead ass. You wanna go beat her ass, say the word. I'll hold your purse." He smirked at me. "But she ain't nobody. Just another business owner. That's it."
