Page 7 of Just Like Summer

The man studied him for a long while. “You gon’ die in that shit if you don’t find an out. How long you been down with the set?”

Cairo offered the man a cool expression. “Long enough to know you asking me too many fuckin’ questions.”

The man held his hands up. “Didn’t mean no harm. But you know how that shit ends. Dead or prison. Life and talent wasted.”

“Nigga, I don’t need nobody preaching to me,” Cairo semi-snapped. “Give me my money so I can bounce.”

“Aight,” the man conceded, pushing the money across the pool table. Then he placed his card on top of the stack. “Fahaad Simons. When you ready to make an exit, call me.”

Cairo packed up his money and the card and made his exit. Throwing the duffle in the trunk, he got back in the car and sped off. Out the gate and away from the mansion, he answered Nate’s call.

“We hitting it or not?” Nate posed, cutting to the chase.

“Nah, I’ll find something else,” he shared, slowing down to a stop sign he blew through earlier. He looked over his right shoulder at the suited man throwing a suitcase into the back of his luxury car. Cellphone pressed to his ear unaware that eminent danger lurked close. The mansion had the same set up as the last but no gate. Easy.

“Fuck, man,” Nate blew.”

A small smirk slightly formed over Cairo’s lips. “Nigga, we up.”

“On the set?”

“On the set, nigga,” Cairo shared, pulling off from the stop sign. “I’ll hit you when I get back.”

“Bet.”

The call ended and Cairo took the slow drive back into Los Oceania. Primarily to see what direction the car service was taking his target. Down the coast to the international airport for an overseas flight. There wouldn’t be anything left in the house for the mark to return to.

Back in the city, he made his drop, got his cut, and went home to sleep until his growling stomach landed him back at Loco’s Tacos. Instead of going through the drive thru like he normally would, he parked and patiently waited in the line moving slower than usual.

“Came back to see me, C4?” the same annoying voice from the night before grasped for his attention, but his gaze was fixed on the visibly flustered woman standing behind the register like she was a fish out of water.

Cairo kissed his teeth, waving the woman off and stepping up in line. The weight of her cellphone and wallet in his pocket reminded him that for now, they had unfinished business.

Without looking up, the curly-headed beauty rambled off the greeting from the cue card. “Welcome to Loco’s Taco, would you like our queso taco special today?”

“Nah,” he started reading her name tag as if he hadn’t already gone through her wallet. “Kamilla, what else you recommend?”

The call of her name lifted those full eyes to him. It was obvious in the way she took him in that she didn’t expect to see him again. Once she shook off whatever was happening inside of her head, she shrugged. “I don’t know; I’ve only had the chicken and beef tacos. They were cool.”

Cairo buzzed. She was less frazzled than she was the day before. “It’s two-thirty, you ain’t ate?”

“No time,” Kamilla replied softly. “I’ve kinda been messing up all day.”

“C4, come over here. She don’t know what she doing. I don’t even know who hired her. Matter of fact, go take a break, Kamry,” the woman blew, shooing her away.

Kamilla lowly rolled her eyes and took her opportunity to get away from both of them. “Gladly.”

Cairo swayed his head. “Two number fours. Strawberry spritz, extra napkins without your fucking number.”

The woman smacked her lips. “I don’t know why you playing like you don’t want me.”

“I don’t want shit the homies passed around,” Cairo quipped back, peeling off a twenty from his knot of cash.

“Damn, you’re not even going to tip?’ she huffed.

“You get on my fucking nerves, I’m not rewarding that,” he responded before walking away to find an empty table to sit at.

About five minutes passed before Kamilla and the bag of food appeared in his line of sight.