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Forever a Hustler's Wife Page 7
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Des looked at the caller ID on his phone. “Baby, let me get this. It’s Sister Khadija giving me the nightly update.”
Sister Khadija was Des’s personal assistant. Her husband, Ahmeen, had been Des’s cellie, and she kept things in order for Des. She was organized and extremely loyal to Ahmeen, who was doing life in the penitentiary, and she was also loyal to Des. Des looked out for a bunch of guys in the penitentiary, men who didn’t have any business being incarcerated in the first place and weren’t leaving there unless someone broke them out or pulled a legislative Houdini. Des knew that he had been spared from the system by the grace of God, but some of the brothers he met were doomed, and one of the things he vowed after doing a dime in the joint was that he wouldn’t forsake them.
From the first day his lungs inhaled the sweet taste of freedom, he had kept true to his word. That was part of how Sister Khadija came into play. She kept up with the inmates’ kids’ birthdays and made sure Des sent birthday cards, paid for parties, or supplied whatever a specific situation called for. She reminded Des what needed to be taken care of. She kept up with the new addresses when his comrades were moved to other prisons as well as got money orders to ensure his friends’ inmate accounts were plentiful. That was the lightweight part of her job.
The heavyweight part was making sure that Des’s boy, Slim, kept his girls in check. She made sure that the cars were serviced and that there were rides and wake-up calls for the girls who smuggled his drugs into the penitentiary, an endeavor that generated a net profit of over $150,000 a month. Then there was Des’s ghetto philanthropy work and the money he blew on attorneys to work on his loyal comrades’ dead-end, sometimes hopeless cases. Thanks to Des, some little white boy was able to go to private school because Des was pouring money into the hands of his appeal-fighting father. Keeping up with the attorneys and their caseloads was all Sister Khadija, too.
Yarni had no problem with Sister Khadija, mainly because she was the ultimate Muslim woman. She kept her head wrapped and was always so pleasant and so submissive to her husband. There were days that Yarni felt she could learn a few things from her.
Des answered and listened as Sister Khadija filled him in on the work that was supposed to be done at the shop. “Brother Des, I forgot to tell you that the phone company is coming tomorrow to transfer the lines over to digital.”
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” Des informed her, then hung up.
“You gonna cut our date off early?” Yarni whined.
“Sister Khadija just called and said that they were going to be digging up around the office, and I need to be there.”
“I understand but—”
Des cut her off with a passionate kiss. “We’ll deal with that tomorrow,” he said. “Right now is about you and me.”
Yarni smiled. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”
Yarni grabbed the overnight bag that she always kept at her office and hurried into the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later wearing a short, red see-through nightie and red high heels.
Des felt his breath catch, and his heart stopped for a minute. It was like he had stepped back in time and was reliving the first night he and Yarni made love. She posed and turned around for him. Like fine wine, she had definitely gotten better with time. In spite of just having had Desi six weeks ago, she was almost back down to her prepregnancy weight, but the little bit of extra that remained definitely looked good on her.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her so she was standing between his legs.
“You know how much I love you, right?” he whispered.
She nodded before placing gentle kisses on his hairy chest. Des lay back, ready to enjoy the ride. He closed his eyes as Yarni straddled him, and he ran his hands up her thighs. Des moaned at the thickness and softness of them. He then allowed his hands to cup her butt, drawing her closer to him.
She started fondling his nipples, and Des took in a ragged breath. She knew that drove him crazy, and he felt himself about to go over the edge. It had been entirely too long since he had been wrapped up in her womanhood. He made his way to her clit, a spot he’d played with many times before, but that night it felt like the first time. She smiled at him, seeing what he was thinking in his eyes. It did feel like their first time, but it was so much better. She was no longer an inexperienced little girl. She was a grown woman, and she knew how to please her man.
She slid down his body until she met his erection. Slowly she took him into her mouth and loved him until he thought he couldn’t take any more. Just as he was about to explode, she kicked things up a notch by sitting on top of him and riding him, surrounding him with her warmth, until he thought he would pass out.
He flipped her over onto her back and held her close as he buried himself deep inside her, finding their perfect rhythm before finally letting go.
“You okay?” he asked a short while later, as he was still trying to catch his breath.
Yarni nodded before giving him a shy smile.
“I was planning on us taking things slow since this was your first time since the baby, but I see you had other ideas.”
“You got that right,” Yarni said. “Six weeks is a long time. I don’t know about you, but tonight I plan to make up for lost time.”
She went to the bathroom and returned with a small bowl of warm water and a washcloth. Gently she cleaned him, all the while placing soft kisses across his chest and sucking on his nipples. Once she finished the sponge bath, she reached over to put the bowl on the nightstand; before she could turn around, she felt him planting himself inside her from behind. Never one to back down from a challenge, Yarni tightened herself around him, and before the night was over, he was calling her name.
The next morning, Des dropped Yarni back off at the law firm so she could pick up her car. “Thank you for an amazing night,” she said. She opened the door to get out, but he grabbed her and pulled her back inside, kissing her until she was breathless.
“Thank you for an amazing life,” he said. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
“No problem, baby,” she said, and she tried not to think that one day it could all be snatched away from them.
CHAPTER 7
The Monster-in-Law
Yarni headed for her car, ready to go home to see her daughter. It was the longest she had ever been apart from her, and she was missing her terribly. She decided to hold off for a few minutes longer, when she realized she had to go back into the office to get Marvin Sledge’s résumé so she could check his references before she secured his position on the team. She knew there was a lot of ground that needed to be covered, and she was certain that Marvin Sledge would have the know-how, the drive, and the ups on how to put in the footwork to get on top of the Samuel Johnson case.
As she walked in the door, her paralegal handed her a stack of messages, including one from Des’s attorney, Mark Harowitz. He wanted to meet with her and Des at 3:00 P.M. Yarni looked at her watch. It was only nine o’clock. It was still early, but she knew she had a busy day ahead of her and the time would fly. She needed to go home to see the baby, shower, and change clothes. She hadn’t had a chance to shower at the hotel since she and Des had been running late. Then she had a noon conference call at the office before meeting her sister for lunch. It was doable, if she left immediately.
“Layla, confirm this appointment,” Yarni said, handing the other woman the message from Harowitz as she rushed out the door. “Oh,” she said, swinging around, remembering how efficient her paralegal was. “I’ll call Des to let him know.” Then she ran out the door.
She called Des on her way home. “Hey, boo.”
“Hey, baby,” Des said, happy to hear from her. “What’s going on?”
“Harowitz called, and your discovery came back. He wants to discuss it with us.”
“Cool,” Des said into the phone, a bit preoccupied. “What year is that?” he asked someone at his shop.
/> Yarni carefully spoke, “Boo, I don’t have to go to the meeting, if you don’t want me to.”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to go? I don’t have anything to hide from you.”
“I know, baby, but I respect client/attorney privacy.” In her most sincere tone, she said, “Just so you know, I would not be offended at all if you wanted to hear the evidence alone.”
Des was silent for a minute, and Yarni knew him well enough to know that he thought he was talking to Yarni the lawyer. His silence indicated that he felt there may be doubt in her mind about his innocence. “Look, baby, I ain’t got shit to hide from you. Whatever evidence they got is bogus.”
“I know it’s BS, baby,” she said, assuring him that she believed in his innocence, and realizing that Des knew her all too well, “but you know whatever they got stacked against you, I’m going to have your back, baby.”
“No doubt, so come by here and scoop me when you’re on your way to Harowitz’s office.”
“Okay. See you later, baby. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Yarni hung up the phone and thought about what outfit she was going to change into after she showered. Once she arrived at the house, Joyce greeted her.
“What are you doing here?” her mother-in-law asked.
Yarni bit down the urge to say something she would regret. “I came home to take a quick shower and change before I head back to the office. I have a busy day today,” Yarni replied. “Where’s Desi?” She looked around, surprised Joyce wasn’t holding the baby.
“She’s in her nursery. I just put her down for a nap, so you shouldn’t disturb her.”
Yarni ignored her mother-in-law and went directly to the nursery. She immediately noticed that things had been changed around. All of the Pampers were gone.
“Joyce, did you move all the Pampers to the garage or into the attic?” she asked while picking up Desi.
Joyce casually answered, “No, I donated them to a good cause.”
“What cause? And why would you do that?”
“A charity,” she said, kissing little Desi. “My granddaughter doesn’t need to wear those Pampers. I told you she needs to wear cloth diapers, just like her daddy did.”
“Didn’t I tell you”—Yarni took a deep breath—“neither Des nor I have the time to deal with those diapers.”
“That’s why I got a diaper service,” Joyce said calmly. “They come twice a week to pick up the diapers and bring you clean ones. I’ll pay for it myself. It’s way cheaper than those Pampers anyway.”
“But we already had the Pampers. They were paid for already.”
“Well, I wanted to do it for my baby, and it ain’t costing you a thing, plus it’s much better for her.”
Yarni took another deep breath. “Look, you don’t do something like that without asking us. This isn’t your baby. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making decisions as if Desi was your daughter.”
Joyce dropped her head, looking like she was about to cry.
Joyce’s wounded feelings did not evoke any pity from Yarni, nor did they make Yarni bite her tongue this time. Enough was enough. “I don’t appreciate you coming in here doing whatever you want to do. This isn’t your baby,” she said brazenly. “The last time I checked, this was my and Des’s baby.”
Joyce quickly transformed from a cub to a lion. “I just want to help,” Joyce shot back. “Since neither one of y’all know how to take care of a baby, never had one before, I thought I was doing y’all a favor.”
Yarni ignored her comment. “Look, Joyce, by all means we do appreciate you, but either you are going to respect what we ask you to do or we can hold interviews for a nanny.” Yarni stared her mother-in-law in the eyes, refusing to back down.
In the midst of the argument, Desi dumped a load. Once the smell hit her, Yarni turned her nose up at the baby.
Joyce immediately took control. She looked at her watch. “I thought you were in a hurry. From the smells of it, you don’t have time to change her. You need to get into the shower.” Joyce took the baby out of Yarni’s hands, and if Yarni wasn’t grateful for Joyce at any other time, she was then. She watched as Joyce talked to Desi, making fun of her stinking up the place. She smiled as she listened to Joyce and shook her head. What was she going to do with her mother-in-law? She couldn’t live with her and damn sure couldn’t live without her.
CHAPTER 8
The Toy Store
Jaguars, Bentleys, and Lamborghinis were just a few of the many luxurious, over-the-top automobiles that filled the five-acre lot of Des’s dealership, hot like the females at a G-Unit video shoot. “Des’s Grown-Man Toy Store” was the place to come if a person was making money, legal or illegal, and he wanted to make a statement by driving one of the hottest vehicles ever manufactured. A person could spend two hundred thousand on a new whip and then, easily, another hundred thou just tricking it out to one’s own specifications. If Des didn’t already have the vehicle on the premises, then he would special order it and have it flown in within less than seventy-two hours.
“Hey, Paulie. This is Des in Richmond.” He paced the floor with the phone receiver to his ear.
“How could I not recognize your voice?” Paulie smiled on the other end of the phone. “You’re just one of my favorite customers.”
“I’m glad you still feel that way because I thought I was going to have to begin looking for somewhere else to shop for my Ferraris. My man, I ordered those three flavors over a week ago.” Des gazed out a window that overlooked his fleet of cars.
“I apologize, Des. I’ve just been a little backed up,” Paulie confessed. “I had to fire my regular shipping man, and the new one just doesn’t quite get the hang of things yet. I got your order right here, ready to go out. Three Ferraris: red, black, and platinum silver. They’ll be on your lot in seventy-two hours.”
“I can’t ask for any more than that,” Des agreed. “Tell the wife and kids that I said hello.” Des hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.
It was 12:15 P.M., and the sun was at full blast when Nasir pulled into his uncle’s place of business. It had been two months since Des had turned Nasir on to the heroin connect, and things were certainly looking up. He’d bought a new car, compliments of the toy store, and money was pouring in like Kool-Aid on a hot summer day in the projects. Lava was driving the Range Rover while Nasir rode shotgun returning calls.
“Pull around the side, boo,” he instructed Lava, motioning with his hand. “We don’t need anyone spotting the whip and running into Uncle Des’s shop looking for work.”
Des heard the water in the puddle on the side of the building make a splash, followed by tires on the pavement outside the side door to his office. His first instinct was to grab his gun—well, Sister Khadija’s gun. She kept her registered gun around the shop for Des to use in case something hopped off. Once he checked the surveillance camera, he saw the Range and knew it was his nephew. He released the locks and went to greet Nasir at the door. He saw Lava sitting behind the wheel and said, “If I was hiring for a getaway-car driver, you would definitely have the job.”
“Keep me in mind when you need one.” She smiled, but Des knew she was dead serious.
Des chuckled at Lava, and asked Nasir, “She coming in?”
“Naw, she good.”
They went back through the showroom, past a pair of shiny white Lamborghinis and a customized black Maserati, to Des’s office in the back. A large mahogany desk occupied one half of the room. In the other half, a large French mirror hung on the wall over a light tan plush leather sofa. Two oversize leather chairs framed the sofa, and a gorgeous teak coffee table stood between the two in front of the sofa. Yarni, with her exquisite taste, had decorated the room so that it was luxurious yet comfortable. An original Romare Bearden woodcut hung over the desk.
Des and Nasir sat down.
“Look, nephew, I ain’t trying to chastise you, but you know how I feel about mixing women with busines
s. I don’t think she should be with you as much as she is.”
“Unc, trust me. Lava is just as good as any nigga I got on my team.”
“What she do?”
“She watch my back.”
“Oh, really?”
“That’s right. Just yesterday I went to serve somebody, and I took too long to come out of the house. I decided to take a shit and left my phone on the table, and when I finally walked out the house, she was on the side of it, Desert Eagle cocked, ’bout to come in there blazing.” Nasir’s phone rang, and he put it on vibrate and placed it on the coffee table as he spoke to his uncle.
“That’s all fine and dandy, but she should be at home or out with her friends or finding a hobby or something.”
“She don’t have no friends. I’m her best friend, and I’m her hobby. Besides, I need her.”
“Nephew, we ain’t never been in the business of needing women. Why do you feel you ‘need’ her?”
“Because business is good. A lot of people trying to get down. Niggas is getting fat bellies and pockets because they eating good—real good. My prices are cheaper than any other nigga in this state.” Des noticed his nephew was gloating and proud of his trade.
“Okay, but why you need yo’ girl with you?”
“Because she’ll die for me.”
“Don’t be certain of that, Nasir.”
“Have I ever lied to you, Uncle Des?”
Des could see his nephew really believed the words he spoke, so he didn’t go back and forth with him about Lava. He knew better.
“Unc, I came here for two things,” Nasir said, leaning forward in his seat, excitement evident in his voice.
“What?”
“Advice and a new whip.” Nasir’s phone vibrated again, and again, he hit the button to silence it.
“A’ight, I can handle both of them. Give me the automobile info first.”
“I want the Lexus drop, pearl white with the cream leather seats.”