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They followed her, stopping every time someone recognized Jay. He hugged and planted kisses on the old lady’s cheeks without any complaints. He was such a gentleman and ladies’ man. Candi never knew how much she enjoyed a man who respected all women. Usually, she found herself wrapped up in rude, disrespectful men. Being close to Jay was like inhaling fresh air for the first time. So far, everything about his world was just what she needed.
“My nigga,” a man, who was the spitting image of Jay, yelled, pulling Jay into a brotherly hug. “Man, why you ain't tell me you were coming home? Meechie had to tell me.” The man plastered a mean mug on his face.
“I called your crab ass. You don’t never answer the fuckin’ phone or call a nigga back. I’m the big brother. When I call, you ’posed to run to that hoe.” Jay’s laughter filled the makeshift section Meechie created for them.
“Who this, though?”
“Mine,” Jay said simply. “This Candi. Candi, this is my little brother, Nard.”
Nard kissed his teeth but acknowledged Candi. The way he saw it, his big brother always got the prettiest girls. He was no slacker himself, but he didn’t get out of town too often to find something new. He and Jay could’ve been twins with the way they looked so similar and their close age. His lack of facial tattoos kept them from being mixed up.
“If he don’t treat you right, I promise you I will,” Nard flirted before blowing her a kiss.
Candi had to stop her face from warming. “I see being charmers must run in the family.”
“Girl, wait until you meet my daddy. That nigga is worse than them.” Meechie rolled her head in a circle.
“Like I said, though, nigga, she mine,” Jay doubled down, making sure his brother knew to not even play when it came to his Magic.
“Nigga want to act brand-new ’cause he finally over Luna.” Nard waved a bartender over. It seemed no one would let Jay live down his breakup with Luna. They seemed to forget the most important details: she was married and had moved on.
In the juke, they hired girls to take food orders as well as drinks. It was bring your bottle but the house provided juice and other mixers. That was how they made money. The girls made tips. It was a nice little way to make some quick cash after their normal nine-to-five jobs.
Nard’s brown eyes landed on Candi. “What you drinking?”
“She good.” Jay gave his brother a look that she didn’t miss. “Meechie, you got some edibles?” His handsome face went to his sister.
“You know I do.” Every time Meechie spoke, Candi couldn’t help but look at her mouth.
Seeing a woman with a full gold grill was something she wasn’t used to. It was weird but fit Meechie. It didn’t take away from her girly look. She was dressed in jeans and sparkly cowboy boots. The top she wore barely covered her big breasts and sparkled to match her boots. Going into her Birkin bag, she pulled out a pink-packaged chocolate chip cookie. “I’m assuming this for you,” she said, passing the bag to Candi.
Candi looked at Jay to make sure it was okay to have. He’d given her the don’t take nothing from no one but me speech and she wanted to respect that. This was his world, so he knew it better than her. Like a proud father, he nodded.
“Let me know what you think, this is my special strain of weed oil.” Meechie was so bubbly. She had to be high too.
“You grow weed?” Candi asked, sinking her teeth into the baked good. Flavors exploded on her tongue before a faint taste of weed appeared. “This good as hell, girl.”
Meechie eyed Jay, wondering why his friend didn’t know he grew weed on his land. She was the chemist behind the different strains, but he was the owner. “Thank you, boo. And yes, I grew that all on my own. You can say I got a green thumb.”
“A flour thumb too,” Candi joked about her baking things too. The cookie was perfect—crispy on the edges and buttery soft on the inside.
Nard laughed. “I know she ain't already high.” Pulling out his own weed, he stuffed it into a joint and fired it up. With his hand to his face, Candi took notice of his black-painted pinky finger.
“You a pimp or something?”
“Or something.” He winked.
Jay shook his head. “Bring your ass here.” He leaned against the wall with her posted in front of him. The waitress had brought them cups of ice and Meechie already had their liquor ready. Like her brothers, she poured herself a glass of Blanton—an expensive whisky they kept stocked up.
The bottle was cute, with a horse on the top like a little action figure. “What is that?” Candi asked. The effects of the weed were creeping up on her fast. The music was good and she was almost ready to show her stripper moves. Her body swayed to Future’s “March Madness”. The song took her back to her days of money falling over her while she popped pussy all over the stage.
“This the shit niggas with money drink.” Jay hummed in her ear. Notes of caramel and aged wood filled her nose. “You fuckin’ with a boss, Magic.”
When he blew on her ear, she giggled. “Oh, really?” Candi loved when Jay talked his shit.
“Hell yea!” He lifted the bottle in the air. “Dirty soda in my Styrofoam,” he rapped.
“Spend a day to get my mind blown,” Nard joined in, blowing smoke from his mouth.
