Page 22 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
We didn’t keep Tulsaire sheltered because he’d grown up with a cartel boss for a father, and since Gilberto was ignorant as hell, we knew he’d seen more than he should’ve. We didn’t discuss business with him, but one day, he would lead the Navarro Cartel, so there was no reason to hide anything around him. He knew what his brothers and uncles did, and even then, he still had his innocence.
“Well, if you getting to it, you need to be getting you a new car.” He frowned. “You got the raggediest car in the neighborhood. It’s embarrassing.”
Again, I was laughing my ass off. Stella hadn’t taken my gold Cuban that I was now wearing because it was at the cleaners, nor had she taken this Infinity. It was ten years old, and I’d been using it to make plays in before I got sent to the slammer. Not only was the inside of the roof ripped, but it had more miles on it than a hoe on the street. It needed a paint job, and the bumper was dented, but for now, it was getting me where I needed to go. Most of the time, I used my sister’s car since she always sent me on errands, or I was in the car with one of my brothers—Shio included. A car wasn’t high on my priority list. If I needed one that bad, I’d probably get one from a chop shop before I went to a dealership. I didn’t have any bills, I was living with my sister and had my own space, and I had about a hundred thousand in the tuck. I was doing well financially for someone who had come home to only eight bands. And now that I had the mob hangingover my head, I knew money was really about to start pouring in. I was just enjoying my freedom and figuring out where the hell Shio and I’s relationship was going.
The more I said I didn’t want to be like that with the nigga because I didn’t know or fuck with our pops, the more he grew on me by the day. Shio was quiet, but when he did speak, it was always with some knowledge or some game. He’d kept it realer than most. I only really fucked with my mother’s sons, but I did have a few associates. Not one of them niggas had reached out to even say hello since I’d been out. I was a grown man, so another nigga didn’t owe me shit, but as much money I've put in niggas hands and on lawyers over the years, and to see that shit not be reciprocated had me letting my guard down with Shio. So far, bro was aite.
“This car getting me where I got to go, nephew. Just know?—”
I reached inside my glove compartment, and my grill was the first thing to pop out. I’d forgotten I’d placed it there, so I popped it in my mouth and grabbed a stack of money. Holding up the bands next to my head, I used the pinky of my left hand to open my mouth further to shine my teeth at the camera.
“Just know I’m still him, neph’! Where you think you get it from? Them Navarro niggas just now coming in the picture.”
Tulsaire mimicked me, handcuffed as if he was holding a Polaroid camera, but he was holding up air and flashing me his pearly white teeth.
“Ugh ugh ugh ugh!” I did my best Money Bagg Yo impression.
“I see ya, Unc’. Now, make sure you head to GameStop first thing in the morning. I want them games in my room by the time I come home next week.”
Laughing again, I folded two wads of the money and stuffed them in both my pants pockets before placing the rest back in the compartment. Standing from the car, I checked mysurroundings, and the couples entering the restaurant eyed me skeptically. The car didn’t match the swag, or maybe it did, but I wasn’t wearing slacks and dress shoes like the rest of the men who were coming and going from the restaurant. I was fly as fuck in Evisu jeans, a white matching tee, and some white Jordan 11s. I was more than likely out of dress code, but I’d slide the hostess a big face to get through the door.
“Let me hit you back, nephew.”
“Aite. Stay dangerous,” he said.
“Bye, lil’ boy!” I smiled and hung up the phone.
Noticing the time, I grabbed the crotch area in between my legs so I could jog without the weight of my gun and money pulling my pants down. I’d caught the door just as an elderly Asian couple walked in. The husband turned his nose up at me as the wife acted as ifweweren’t the ones making whatever business they had, whether it be a fried rice house, a nail salon, or a beauty supply store, rich. Instead of cursing them the fuck out, I flashed my solid gold grill at them.
The fuck they think this shit is?
I was planning to be a gentleman, but I walked past their asses and approached the hostess stand. A cute, strawberry-blonde-haired chick was standing behind the stand. She took one look at my attire and opened her mouth as if to turn me around. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two hundred-dollar bills. One probably wouldn’t be enough to get her to let me inside this establishment.
She snatched up the money so fast that I was sure she chipped her French manicured nails. “Welcome to Capital Grill. Table for one?”
Licking my lips, I scanned the restaurant. It was dimly lit and intimate but lively. I was underdressed like a bitch, but fuck it; this was the best I could do at the last minute. “I have a reservation for two already. Under Shio Cuppacio.”
She scrolled on the iPad before nodding. “Your date is already here. She arrived earlier than the reservation but insisted I sit her. Right this way.”
I was thirty minutes early, and I would have been even earlier if I hadn't spent time on the phone with Tulsaire. I hadn’t seen anyone young or single walking in while I was chopping it up with my nephew, so it had me wondering how longmy datehad been waiting.
“Here we are.”
I could only see the back of her, but the blonde and brown braids that flowed down the back of the chair looked good. I could also see that she was in a halter dress that showed all of her fucking back. I hadn’t thought about a woman, but seeing her silhouette and knowing if she stood up, I could possibly see the crack of her ass or her thong had my dick stiff. She reached for a glass of what appeared to be water, and a stack of gold bracelets decorating her arm clanked. I immediately had the urge to fill her wrist with a Cartier bracelet, a Hermes one, and a fucking rollie since those were absent. I hadn’t seen her face and was already wanting to trick my little money on her.The glow of her skin and scent of her sweet perfume had me folding, and I didn’t even know if she had a beak for a face or not.
So much for my “fuck these bitches” motto.
She’d taken the seat facing away from the door, and for that, I applauded her. I’d already found the blueprints of the restaurant online, so I knew all the exits; plus, I’d visibly seen them when I came in. Still, I needed to face the door. You can take the nigga out of the streets, but never the streets out of the nigga.
I felt someone looking at me. Following the heat of the stare, I was met with an older Black woman holding a wine glass, her nose turned up at me. Not wanting to show my ass in these folks’ place of business, I rounded the table and took a seat instead of giving the old bird a piece of my mind.
Gotdamn!
Her eyes ballooned, and at the same time, she began coughing.
Reaching my arm over, I tried patting her back, but she held her hand up. While she composed herself, I raked my eyes over what I could see of her frame. Little baby was gorgeous. If I could use one word to describe her little ass, it’d be soft. Not in the sense of touch, although I'm sure everything was indeed as lush as it looked, but soft in the context of living. It looked like she’d never known a bad day, an inconvenience, or a hard time in her life.
I’d had my fair share of women, but I steered away from the ones that looked like this one across from me. It was true that good girls liked bad boys, but she was more than good. She screamed saditty and high maintenance, and those were the ones that I looked at but didn’t fucking touch. The old me needed a woman who could fit into my lifestyle. I didn’t need a person trying to convince me to punch a clock because it was what her daddy had done for the last thirty years. Internally chuckling, I realized I was doing the very thing these motherfuckers in this restaurant had been doing to me since I pulled up, but I couldn’t help but to judge her pretty ass.
