Page 26 of Wasn't Supposed To Be Yours
“Shit, the real answer is that I like to smoke weed. The way I saw it was if I’m going to be out here spending money on weed, I might as well put myself in a position to make money off it too. You know out west, in places like Vegas, and Cali, you can legally sell that shit out there. In Miami, you know marijuana isn’t legal yet, so I had to do what I could legally, and that’s why I’m pushing hookah’s, vapes, edibles, and CBD, which are all the things that Florida will legally allow me to sell,” he let Tommie know.
There was a little lounge area, and that’s where I decided to sit down. It wasn’t too far from where my sisters and Tank were. He showed them different products, telling him which edibles were his favorite, and what he would recommend them to try. Once he had them situated, he walked from behind the counter, and he came over to me, standing right in front of me.
“Let your sisters hang out tonight. Come roll with me,” he was bold in the way he said that.
“No,” was all I had for him, and that made him laugh.
“Why not? Ya’ll was about to go eat, right? You can eat with me. That’s what I was getting ready to do anyways,” he was persistent.
I turned my head, so that I could look at my sisters, and they were too busy trying the edibles that Tank had given to them, so they weren’t paying me the least bit of attention. I turned back around, so that I could look at him, and I just hated that his presence wasn’t making this any better. He was so damn fine. His eyes looked so innocent, as he was practically begging me to go out to dinner with him tonight.
“My sisters going to get mad. They going to feel like I’m ditching them for a nigga,” I lied, knowing damn well that Free, nor Tommie would give a damn. I thought that I’d kept my voice down, saying it in a way where only he could hear me, but I guess not because I heard both my sisters laugh from behind me.
“Dionne, please! Don’t put that on us! Nobody going to be mad if you decide to go out with him. Go! Please go and get fucked too!” of course, that was no one but Tommie’s ignorant ass that had made that outburst. I was used to the kind of outlandish outburst that my sister would make, which is why I didn’t laugh, but Tank did.
I gave in to him, telling him that I would go, shocking my damn self because I just knew that I was going to tell his ass no. My sisters were in the back, clapping their hands, putting on a whole damn show, as if I just accepted this man’s wedding proposal.
From there, Tank asked me if there was anything in the shop that I wanted to try, but I told him that I was fine. We stayed in the shop for about ten more minutes, and then we finally left out. My sisters hugged me, told me to enjoy myself, and to text them if I needed them. Tank had them wait because he kept his word, where he was going to walk them over to the lounge, since hesaid his friend owned it. Before he did that though, he unlocked the trunk to his Aston Martin, put the briefcase inside that he was holding, and he opened the passenger door for me, so that I could get inside. He let me know that he would be right back, and I nodded, telling him that it was fine.
I couldn’t help but to notice how clean his car was. Not only was it clean, but it smelled good in here as well. I just assumed that it would smell like weed since I knew he smoked, but it didn’t. I didn’t want to be nosy, looking around, going through this things, so I just pulled my phone out, and I saw that I had a text message from my mom. She sent it to the group chat that me, her, and my sisters were all in. It was a video that she’d taken of Liberty. She was in my mom’s bed, lying on her stomach, knocked out. I loved that little girl as if I birthed her, so I texted a bunch of heart emoji’s back, and then I just relaxed in the chair.
Tank made his way to the car about ten minutes later, and when he did, he closed the door behind him, and he slouched back into the chair, while turning his head to look at me. I turned to look at him as well because I had a question for him.
“What do you keep in that briefcase?” I asked.
“Money,” he responded.
“You don’t think that’s a little unsafe to be walking around with a Louis Vuitton suitcase filled with money?” I wanted to know.
“Unsafe for you?” he asked, taking the gun off his hip, and he sat it down in the cupholder.
“I guess,” was all that I said in response to that.
“What you have a taste for? What you want to eat?” he inquired.
“Were you able to get my sisters into the lounge?” I asked him a question before I answered his.
“Yeah. I told you my homie owns that spot. He was there, so he took them to a booth. They in good hands. Back to the question that I just asked you though. What do you have a taste for?” he wanted to know.
“I can eat anything, so wherever you take me is fine,” was my response, which shocked the hell out of me because the old Dionne used to be ready to run a nigga’s pockets dry.
I would purposely choose the most expensive restaurant that I could find, but I wasn’t doing that here. I hadn’t even asked this man for any money, which wasn’t like me at all because the old Dionne used to beg for a coin in a second! Could it be that I had calmed my ass down, or did I like him, and that’s why I was moving different? I had no idea what the hell it was, but whatever I was doing, I knew myself enough to know that I was moving different.
Chapter 8
Tavion ‘Tank’ Briggs
The First Taste
Dionne didn’t really give me much to work with in terms of where I should take her for dinner, so I had to think on my feet about where we should go. She was in her laid back, chill attire, and honestly, I was dressed the same. I’d been moving around all day, so with that, I wasn’t going to take us somewhere 5 star because neither one of us was dressed the part.
I was starving, and when I got into these moods where I hadn’t eaten anything all day, it made me crave some good food, where I didn’t have to worry if the food was going to be hit or miss. With that, I decided that I was going to just take Dionne to my mama’s restaurant. It wasn’t that far from my shop, and my mom didn’t close until 11:00 P.M., so we had time to spare.
“You don’t smoke hookah like your sisters?” I asked Dionne, after about a minute of us being quiet in the car.
“I do,” she said.
“Damn, so why you didn’t try it back at the shop, then? I had a flavor for you that I know you would have liked,” I responded.
