She burst into laughter. “No, thanks. I’m not interested in being no struggling actress, and with black Hollywood not really working, please, that will definitely send me back to the store boosting,” she said.
“With that performance you pulled back there, you’d definitely be able to be Hollywood’s leading lady. I can’t lie. I was impressed.”
“Thank you.” She paused. “But maybe I should be really saying thank you for . . .” She struggled with the words.
“Yes, what are you trying to say?”
“Umm, like, I can’t believe you had Rocco, your right hand man, killed. His hands were cut off.” She felt like this whole thing had been staged. This couldn’t possibly be real, right?
With no remorse, he said, “That’s what happens to thieves.”
“But he was your man, your right hand.”
“But he stole, and he was skimming money. He stole that money from you and never breathed a word about it—using my club as a backdrop to that larceny. And I found out he’d done it to some others, too, and I didn’t really appreciate it.”
“Why not fire him or make him pay it back?” she questioned. She recognized the irony, as she was a booster, which some may call a thief, but she never stole from anybody on a personal level.
“Because his behavior is unacceptable, and it’s a little deeper than that.”
“Look, I boost, but I never stole from a person—ever. I can’t even front. I’ve gotten damn near every major store, but a person . . . naw, I don’t do that.”
He laughed. “That’s way different. His sins have nothing to do with your hustle.”
She nodded then reached for the backpack.
“Besides, you know he couldn’t be around anymore anyway, especially since you are becoming a friend of mine. In fact, a special friend of mine.”
“Really?”
“Yup! And why is that?
Bianca heard him loud and clear, but she was more into checking the backpack. “Who do you think called?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, but maybe one of his women.”
She pulled out a T-shirt, some Polo boxers, a brush, some checks and gift cards, about $5,600 in cash, a do-rag, and a few more items. Once everything was out, the backpack still had something else inside. She just had to get to it. There was a hidden button that slid to the side when pressed, exposing the inside of the lining of the tricked-out backpack.
“Oh, shit!” It was dope inside. She pulled it out. “Oh la la, would you look at that.” She smiled as she looked at the contents of the bag. She started dancing The Snake, in her seat. “Look what I recovered. Who’s bad?” she said in her Michael Jackson voice.
Fitz looked over.
“You see how the other day you were saying that there was no room for a lady in your organization? See how a pretty face got you your work back, and look at this cash!”
“You did do that.” He had to agree with her. “You can keep the cash and gift cards if there’s anything on them. Buy yourself something nice. I’ll take the work.”
“No, I will take it.”
“No, you have money that was returned to you, and cash here, and plus I will get you whatever you want. You are not starving for anything.”
“Look, I’m independent. Always had my own hustle.” She gazed into his eyes with a serious look. “Always got my own. I’ma need you to respect that. This here—” She pointed to the heroin—“You wasn’t going to miss it or claim it. Ten minutes ago, it was about to be left in the hands of the medical examiner.”
Fitz tried to cut Bianca off, but she wasn’t having it. She kept talking. “Look, a’ight? We been going back and forth on this matter, and me getting some money from the very first day we met has always been the issue. So, let me see what I can do with this. If I mess up, I will never say anything to you again about my business. Okay?” She flashed her big, beautiful eyes at him.
Fitz smiled at how Bianca was always on her own money chase. Though he hated allowing women in the game, he had to respect her grind. At least she wasn’t chasing some man’s pocket or sucking dick and pushing pussy. She was out to get her own, and though he didn’t like it, he really did respect it.
He took a deep breath. “Girl, you know you are a pistol, don’t you? Not typically how I do business, though.”
“I’m sure.” She agreed with a smile. “But this right here, what we got, what we are building, isn’t the typical kind of friendship you normally have, right?”
“Not at all.” He had to agree, thinking about how from the day Bianca met him, she had never walked on eggshells around him, like most everybody else whose path he had crossed. She had to know that he was the most powerful and treacherous man north of the Equator and that his father was “the” Señor Manuella of Peru, and that neither one played popcorn games. They’d have a bitch killed at the flip of a dime. Maybe she didn’t know. Or maybe she did, and she just didn’t care.
“Well, we should be able to do something then, right?” He nodded. “Go ahead.”
Bianca was shocked. “You for real?” she questioned.
“Yeah, but always know that fair exchange is never robbery.”
“I know.”
“I’d like the opportunity to take you on a real date. I haven’t had a real date in a long time. If I suck at it or fuck up, I won’t press you again.”
“Normally, I don’t really mix business with pleasure. I’ve always felt like either we are going to get money together or we’re going to fuck. You do your thing and I do mines. But since you seem to be a special kind of character, I guess I can make you the exception to my rule,” she said.
“Well, this one time, I can make you
