Page 78 of It’s The Dawg In Him For Me

“Nothing, in Manhattan at Mood getting some fabric,” I said as I ran my hand ova the different rolls.

“Word, you sound like you are in your happy place.”

“I am. I love looking at the different fabrics and getting ideas for different things. I just wish I had the place to hold a bunch of fabric; because of you, I would buy up the store right now.”

The line went silent for a second.

“Stay right there,” Rosama said. “I’ma slide through.”

We hung up, and I continued looking around, then took a break while waiting on him and worked on my sketch for school. I was locked in on my drawing. The store inspired me so much that when I heard somebody clear their voice, I jumped as I looked up and saw Rosama.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked as I stood up and hugged him.

“Long enough for me to realize that even when you’re not paying attention, you still have all eyes on you.”

Rosama took me around the store. I showed him all the different fabrics I liked, even though I didn’t have clients for them yet. I was going to.

Rosama took in all that I was showing and telling him, then called somebody who worked there ova.

“I need you to help her get all the fabric that she wants.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Get all that you want,” repeated.

“And do what with it?”

He smiled at me. “Let ya man handle that; get what you want.”

I did what my man said and walked through Mood, picking up yards of colors, yards of leathers, silk, and lace. Spikes, buttons, and zippers. I grabbed everything that caught my eye, throwing it at the workers and whoever he got to help him. Once I was done, we took everything to the register, and they had a time ringing everything up.

“Okay ma’am, your total is $11,500.82.”

I looked at Rosama, and he laughed, pulling cash—not a card, not a wallet, a fist-sized wad of money out, counted it, and handed it to the cashier.

All the people behind the counter were smiling and whispering at me.

After Rosama paid, the workers helped us carry the bags out and loaded them into mine and Rosama's car.

“Follow me,” he told me as he hopped in his car, leaving me standing there wondering what he was up to.

I didn’t question him though. I hopped in my car and followed him through the city until we ended up in Brooklyn at a storage place not far from his place.

“Rosama, what are we doin’ here?” I asked him as soon as we parked and hopped out the car.

“You said you needed space to hold your fabric, I got you.”

He walked around the cars, pulled his keys outta his pocket, unlocked the lock, and slid the door up to a nice ass fixed-up storage unit.

The floors were padded the walls were painted, and it wasn’t cold or too hot.

“Ro, what is this?”

“It was my sister's lil’ hair shop I got her when she first started out.”

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“I got her a bigger shop in the city, but I kept this shit to store guns. Now I have a new place for that, so this shit has just been sitting, getting paid for, just in case I need it.”