Page 15 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
“God was on your side, beautiful.”
She fumbled with the menus and motioned for us to follow her.
Both Tunan and my eyes went right to her backside. Jasmine had enough ass for a nigga to grip on, so it filled out her dress nicely. As we walked through the restaurant, I glanced at the murals featured on the walls mimicking an Italian countryside with rich vineyards, deep hues of mahogany and green, I listened as she ranted more about the facility her grandmother was in.
She was in disbelief that they had accepted her insurance because it was out-of-network when she was researching the best place for her grandmother. During one of my visits, which was on a slower day, she mentioned that her nanna was being kicked out of her current nursing home because they no longer accepted Medicaid. I made a call, and they had a room ready for her within the hour. I’d never take it there with Jasmine because I appreciated seeing her pretty face anytime I was in here, and I didn’t want to confuse anything. My actions were because I had the means to help, so I couldn’t help but to do her a solid.
“I’ve never seen you before. You’re his brother? I’m Jasmine.”
Jasmine held her hand out for Tunan, and his foolish ass just nodded at her, making her retract her hand in embarrassment.
“I’m Tune, the brother from another mother. How you doin’, Ms. Jasmine?” His words softened the blow because Jasmine was cheesing like she hadn’t been looking like she was about to run just seconds ago.
Tunan showed all of his teeth in his mouth, and Jasmine was eating that shit up. “No offense; ion shake hands. I’m ’bout to eat, and a nigga just got out.” He tapped his temple with his middle finger. “A nigga still institutionalized.”
Letting him do his thing, I opened the menu, even though I knew what I wanted. I wanted to look occupied, giving them space to continue their banter.
“Got out? You were in jail? For what?” she asked with amusement as if he’d just revealed he’d gotten his master’s degree. The good girls always fell for the bad boys; it was a tale as old as time.
Locking his fingers, Tunan rested his arms on the table and leaned in. “For Ike Turner-ing a bitch for playin’ with me. Move ’round, Jasmine. This dick gets aggressive when I’m fucked over,” he spoke with a straight face.
Jasmine’s body stiffened, and she tugged at the collar of her black dress. “I… uh… Your waiter will be here shortly.” She gave me one last farewell before she nearly sprinted back to the hostess stand, where she had a line of motherfuckers waiting.
“Leave Jasmine alone, Tune.”
Tunan kept his arms folded atop the menu and grinned. “You got me out here in this tight-ass suit, and now you mad that your hoes on my jock? How that work?” he taunted.
“It’s tailored, not tight. And Jasmine isn’t mine.”
“Jasmine isn’t mine—ole deep voice-ass nigga.”
With Tunan’s Memphis accent, he sounded as if he were pronouncing her name without the S.Jaaamine. I was still getting used to his lingo. Even though he’d spent years building a life in Atlanta, the M-Town hadn’t come up out of him. I thought we Chicago niggas be saying some shit. We didn’t have nothing on Memphis Tennakey.
“You can relax, Professor Oglevee. I told you… I’m not studdin’ these females. I’m trying to run my bands up. That’s why this marriage shit throwing me for a fucking loop.” He sighed while peeling open the menu. “Ion know what half of this shit even says on this long-ass menu.” Tunan tossed his menu.
I chuckled. “Get the steak… butterflied, a Caesar salad, and depending on how big your appetite is, the prawn pasta is good.”
“Yeah, I’ll take all that.” He sat back in his seat just as the waitress came to fill our water glasses.
“So, back to this date on Friday with ole girl.”
“Glow.”
“Yeah. Glow. You never answered on if you gone let her know wassup or not.”
Leaning back in my chair, I used my thumb to twist the ring on my index finger. Tunan waited impatiently for me to answer. Next Friday would change my life forever, that much I knew. I felt it. Anytime something drastic was about to occur, my body would hint it to me before my mind processed it. That’s the way it had always been.
“Just know, by the time the date is over next week, she will be stamped as a Cuppacio fiancée.” I smirk at my brother, feeling good about what was to come.
Going through my to-do list mentally, I sat back and waited for the waitress to walk by so I could request another drink.
God first.
Make sure the family good.
Eye them Cuppacio boys, the little and the big ones.
Build a relationship with my brother.
