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“Mm. Better. I got something else that’s needy too.”
“Nasty,” I laughed. “But how are you really doing?”
“Managing. Shit’s been crazy, but I’m dealing with it.”
“I still don’t know what handling it looks like in your world.”
“We both have our secrets.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think I haven’t noticed how off you’ve been lately?” he questioned. “You’ve sounded different and your energy has been off for like two weeks.”
My stomach dropped. “Different how?”
“Not sure yet. But it’s cool though. Once I get this shit settled with my pops, I’ma figure it out. You gonna let Papa help you, Princess?”
I cleared my throat. I hated the way that my nipples puckered at the seductive tone in his voice. “Nothing’s going on with me, Dez.”
“Still lying,” he tutted. “What I say about that, Belle?”
I swallowed. “Cardez. I’m fine. Promise.”
“Yeah, aight. I’ma try to come see you this week.”
“Mmhm. I’ll talk to you later. Go see about your dad.”
Jody was at my place a little after 1:00 p.m. with sandwiches from my favorite deli.
She paused at the threshold as I held the door open, taking in the state of my apartment. Documents were spread across the dining and coffee tables, along with scraps of printer paper covered in numbers. My laundry basket was in the middle of the living room, full of clothes that needed folding.
“Damn, Belle,” she said, walking over to the kitchen island. She set the bag of food down and turned to face me. “You look like you’ve been in the trenches.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m aware. Let me make us a drink.”
“Drinking before work? Oh, bitch, whatever’s going on, you’re down bad.”
I ignored her and went to work making us spicy margaritas. She moved a stack of papers off the chair and started looking through them.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
I sighed and poured the margaritas into two glasses. “You’re gonna want to sit down for this.”
I laid out how Gideon confronted me and got me into this clusterfuck.
She sipped her drink slowly. “Can you give him that much?”
“I could, but then I’d have to rebuild my savings. You know how long it took me to get that number.”
She picked up one of the papers and eyed me. “So how much are you going to give him?”
“Four fifty total. Two hundred of mine. I need you to move the other two fifty.”
“La’Belle Mafia.”
“Please don’t do the whole government thing,” I groaned.
“No, bitch. I will absolutely use your full name, because you got me fucked up.” She downed the rest of her drink and slammed the glass on the counter. “Are you insane? You’re asking me to move two hundred and fifty thousand dollars all at once.”
