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“Yes. You should have seen your face—you just went Forrest Gump on us.”
“Oh, shut up.” Chanel laughed.
“For real girl, you was.”
“You got to admit it, though. He was fine, right?”
Mecca didn’t reply right away, and then she burst out, “Yeah, he definitely was.”
Chanel sighed. “I wonder if I’m gonna ever
see him again.”
“Don’t even think about him, girl. He probably has like four or five women anyway, and maybe a few baby mamas,” Mecca said. “You probably didn’t need the headache in your life.”
Chanel hadn’t thought about that. That sudden moment with Mateo was a spark for her, and it felt like it was still burning. She had him on her mind and he was going to stay there for a while.
The girls continued their walk toward the subway. Chanel sighed with delight. He’d called her exquisite, gorgeous, and beautiful. Harlem was the bomb.
Chapter Nine
God stood by the bedroom window smoking a cigarette. He stared at the locals coming and going like he was the apex predator and they were all prey. Charlie was in the shower, and the place was quiet. He had permanently moved in with Charlie without asking permission since he’d been evicted from his own place. He had been walking around the apartment like it was his castle and undermining everyone. Chanel hated that he was living there, but Bacardi and Butch didn’t mind. They treated him like he was their son.
God had to think. He was contemplating his future—their future. It had been months since they’d hit a lick. Things were too hot, and the police had been on them like white on rice. Shit was dry. Between the lawyer fees and Bacardi not working, money was really tight. God needed another come-up, and he needed one right away.
Fingers had left town for a while to escape the fire of shooting a cop, but with the city coming alive because of the warm weather, God knew the time was now to get back into action—back to getting paid again.
Charlie entered the bedroom wrapped in a white towel. She had just finished her shower, and seeing her man smoking by the window raised some concerns for her.
“Baby, you okay?” she asked him.
God turned and looked at her. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure? You look like you stressin’.”
“I said I’m fuckin’ a’ight!” he barked.
“Shit, nigga, you ain’t gotta catch no attitude wit’ me. I was just checkin’ to see if my man was good,” Charlie retorted. “But fuck you!”
God took one last pull from the cigarette and flicked it out the window. Charlie was frowning at him, her arms folded across her chest. He had no right to snap at her after she gave him a place to stay and pussy on demand.
“Look, I ain’t tryin’ to fight wit’ you. I just got a lot of shit on my mind, a’ight?”
“And I don’t? What the fuck, nigga?”
“We need to find another lick,” he said.
“I know that. I’ve been on a mission lookin’ for muthafuckas to get got, and I think I have the perfect mark,” she lied. Charlie had been looking, but she hadn’t come up with anything concrete yet.
“Who?”
“Can you get in contact with Fingers?”
“I’m always in contact with him,” he said.
“Cool. With the heat finally dying down, it’s time for us to get back to business and shit. We need to get paid again.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, baby. Now that’s my bitch talking business,” said God with a smile.
