MOB

International Airport with a bag full of money? I flew down there on a charter plane. Freeze put me on to a guy named Pete. He flew me in and out of there, no customs, nothing like that.

“How you think I know that the cops ain’t got nothing on us? Freeze got that handled. He got an in to the cops. Like I told you when we started, we give Freeze that money for his protection and services,” Travis explained as Wanda came down the steps and walked across the floor. “And we pay for the legal services of that fine-ass muthafucka there,” he said and pointed at Wanda.

“God damn that woman is so fine,” Jackie said.

“I see all that,” Ronnie said, seeming to ignore Jackie’s observation about Wanda. “But I still think we give that nigga too much of our money, so forgive me if I bitch a little. We gave that nigga damn near fifty grand of our money. And while we’re talkin’ about money, why you feel the need to run to the Caymans to get rid of your money? Why didn’t you just let the white boy handle it like he always does?”

“I didn’t feel comfortable giving him that much money,” Travis said. “I didn’t want him to make no connection to the job. Y’all all right with your money?”

“I just feed it to him a little at a time. He didn’t make no connection. He thinks we’re big time drug dealers anyway,” Ronnie said.

“Why does he think that?”

“Boy is a fiend for X. Every time I see him, I give him enough Ecstasy to freak half the women in New York.”

“So, what next, Travis?” Jackie asked.

“Best thing we can do for the next couple of months is keep a very low profile.”

Chapter Nineteen

Over the next couple of months, all three kept as low a profile as they could. Thinking that it would improve his chances of getting with Jackie, Freeze was instrumental in getting her a few modeling jobs. But she was gambling more now than she usually did, so she was spending the money as quickly as she made it. Ronnie started working on making his next fortune from home as a day trader.

Travis got called for a contract programmer job, and went to work three days a week. The contract was in Long Island and the building was next to a bank. Although the idea of getting out still had a haunting pull on him, Travis couldn’t resist the temptation of planning their next job-if there was to be a next job.

From his office window, Travis could watch the comings and goings without even trying. He opened an account at the bank to deposit his checks. While he was in the bank conducting business, he observed the layout of the bank and studied their procedures.

Travis spent most of his time, though, getting to know Me’shelle, and he was loving every minute of it. Their time together had been like one long conversation. It was an old fashioned courtship. They spent a lot of time together, slowly getting to know one another. They talked a lot, went to the movies, to concerts, to plays and they danced. They both loved to dance.

During this courtship, Me’shelle learned something about herself: “I love to eat out.” In fact, she loved to go out period. While she was with Trent, they never went anywhere. He was a homebody. She finally concluded he was just too cheap to want to go anywhere. Trent would show up at Me’shelle’s house in time for dinner, which she would always have to cook, with a couple of movies and some microwave popcorn.

“You know what I wanna try?” Me’shelle asked.

“What’s that?”

“Jerk chicken.”

“You’ve never had Caribbean food?”

“Nope. I’ve got a rich southern heritage. That’s where my family’s from. My aunt cooks southern food. But I’ve heard so much about Caribbean, I just have to try it.”

“That’s cool. I know a little place on Sixteenth Street called Maroons. You’ll love it. They serve both southern and Caribbean food. I always have Aunt Sarah’s stewed oxtails.”

“You go there a lot?”

“Not really, but it is one of my favorites,” Travis replied.

They had their first fight at Foley’s restaurant on Seventh Avenue. It all began one day when Mystique showed up at Travis’s house unannounced and uninvited, while they were on their way out.

When Travis came out of the house, Mystique was coming up the walkway. He froze in his tracks.

“Travis, you and I need to talk, baby,” Mystique said and put her hands on his chest. “I’m sorry that I slapped you. I really miss you.”

“I told you it’s over between us,” Travis said.

“I just want things to get back to the way they were,” she said. That was when Me’shelle walked out the door. “Who the fuck is this bitch?”

Me’shelle didn’t like being called a bitch, but she kept her cool and let Travis handle his business.

“This is Me’shelle,” Travis said.

“So, is this the bitch you dumped me for, Travis?”

I ain’t gonna be too many more bitches, Me’shelle thought.

“This cidity bitch!”

“That’s it,” Me’shelle said as she stepped toward Mystique. Travis tried to step in between them, but he was too slow. Before he knew it, Me’shelle was all up in Mystique’s grill. “Who the fuck are you callin’ a bitch?” Me’shelle said. “I only see one bitch here, and it damn sure ain’t me, bitch.”

Mystique rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you know I will kick your ass, bitch?” she threatened.

Me’shelle started taking off her earrings. “Well, come on wit’ it then!” she challenged. Travis grabbed Mystique and carried her away from Me’shelle. “No, let the bitch go, Travis!” she shouted, but that wasn’t about to happen.

It took about ten minutes for Travis to convince Mystique to leave, but to Me’shelle it seemed longer. She watched them talk from the window to observe their body language. When he came inside, he had to convince Me’shelle that they should still go to Foley’s for dinner. Me’shelle was mad as hell, but what she was more was hungry, so she agreed to go.

She wasn’t even all that mad at Travis, although she let him think that she was. She was mad at Mystique and madder at herself. They said little if anything on the drive downtown. Me’shelle simply looked out the window.

When they got to the restaurant and were seated, the waiter came to take their order. Me’shelle had barely looked at the menu. “For starters, how about some Boston Clam Chowder, with chunky potatoes and frizzled onions?” the waiter asked.

“That sounds good to me,” Travis told him.

“And for the lady?”

She didn’t answer.

“Me’shelle?” Travis said.

“That’s fine,” she said. By this time she had moved beyond Mystique and was trippin’ on how quickly she snapped and was ready to go at it ghetto style. I can’t believe you took off your earrings and was ready to fight that woman. She looked at Travis; he had a look on his face that was concern and sadness at the same time.

“Are you ready to order your entree, or do you need more time?”

“Give us a minute, would you, please?” Me’shelle said. Once the waiter left, she turned Travis. “We need to talk about this.”

“Yes, we do.”

“So, who was that woman?”

“She’s the woman I told you about.”

“The one with the good sex. Are you still seeing her?”