Page 39 of Grace

“What in the white crime nation was this transaction?”

He leaned into the table again. “Remember how Divine—”

“Who?”

“Azmir.” He corrected himself.Oh. I had to get used to that name. “Azmir said I was the laid-back kid who watched? I observed men with money. I saw most of them blow it, and I saw a few stash and invest it.”

Suddenly, I recalled. “He said you were calculating, too.”

“He did, didn’t he? Well, he also touched on the O.G.s I stuck around. I learned a lot from them and they took a liking to me—including Divine. They schooled me right. Got me work and taught me how to stack my dough. I was never flashy, didn’t need cars, wasn’t into girls or women past needing to knock my shit off—pardon my language, but you know what I mean. I didn’t wear the latest clothes or have any bad habits that ate up my money. I was good at stashing.”

“But how?”

“That’s for another trip.”

I laughed. “Well, damn!”

“But to answer another question you had for me: that’s how I bought the house.”

“That house is worth, at least, several million.”

“I bought it for one point eighty-five. Its value now is close to two and a half. I put a lot of money into upgrading it. The last owner was old and went broke.”

“You funneled the money through…” I struggled to remember the old Linda Hunt lookalike.

“Frankie.”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Her. You transferred the money to her and she bought the house?”

“Something like that, but pretty much. Yes.”

“I don’t know what guns go for, but I can’t imagine you still have money left over from thirteen years or so ago. How have you been maintaining your lifestyle? YourG-Wagonis sitting outside, sir.” I pointed behind me, still in disbelief about his wealth.

His truck was at least twenty grand more than myAMG GT Coupe! It was quite a luxury ride down to Central Jersey this afternoon.

Jas’ brows hiked. “You still trippin’ off the ride, Witherspoon?”

“And if I am? If you wanted to shit on me for thinking you were poor, just say that then.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “A poor laborer with child support from six baby mommas, and what else?”

I covered my face in shame, trying not to crush my lashes. I croaked behind them, “Can I get another glass of wine please?”

“Sure.” Then I heard him call out, “Aye, yo…”

Seconds later, the sommelier was at my side, pouring more yummy red blend.

“Thank you.” I granted when he was done. “Now, why do you and Juggy drive around in that white van?”

Jas’ face contorted into an expression of confusion. “We work almost every day. That’s the work van.”

“It’s beat up.”

“It’s perfect. We get around in it.”

“And it’s yours?” He nodded. “And Juggy just likes driving you around in it?”

He shrugged. “Jug is my guy. We’re legal now, but we all got roles. He likes to drive. I thought I told you that.”

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