soon, and we can discuss it further."
Jamal paused before saying with grin, "I don't think my fiancee would like that too much. She would take one look at you and shut it down."
"Fiancee? You're getting married?"
"Yes, I am, in a few months."
"Congratulations. She's a lucky woman. Look at you. You're this handsome, successful businessman."
"Thank you, but I feel like the lucky one. Nina is a terrific woman. I think you would like her, Precious."
"I'm sure I would. Maybe one day you two can come over for dinner."
"That's an excellent idea. But let's do one better. This time you can come over to my place for dinner. I'll set that up with Nina and give you a call."
"Definitely. I'll also speak to my attorney and get back to you with a price."
"Great. I look forward to seeing you again. Have a good night."
"You too." I felt some kinda way when Jamal revealed he was engaged, almost jealous. Maybe it was because I felt he was about to embark on the life that I was supposed to share with Supreme. Whatever it was, I had to admit it made me curious. I was interested in meeting the woman who had stolen my first's heart. Besides, letting Jamal and his fiancee play host and getting Supreme's business in order would keep my mind occupied, and hopefully dissuade my potential deadly infatuation with Pretty Boy Mike.
6 Ve t~ (4ayz d Ve t~
For the next few weeks, I kept going back and forth with my attorney regarding what type ofmoneyAtomic Records should be bringing to the table, and if I should shop to other places in order to start a bidding war for Supreme's music. Between that, I avoided Mike's calls because I hadn't quite figured out how to deal with our undeniable attraction. I did need him as a source of information to see if he heard about any moves Nico was making, but I wasn't sure I could trust the feedback. Mike wasn't the type of man that could be handled with kid gloves, and until I determined how to make him work for me and not against me, I decided to keep him at arms length.
Later on that day, I had a doctor's appointment in Midtown. I scheduled a meeting with a top-notch plastic surgeon to have reconstructive surgery done on the scar left on my chest from the bullet, courteous of Nico. The physician who made the original incision did an excellent job, but why not make it less noticeable if possible? After my consultation and setting up the actual date for the surgery, I decided to stop off at my favorite Dominican chicken and rice spot in Washington Heights. I double-parked and flicked on my hazardous lights before running in the joint. After about five minutes they handed me my order, and when I walked out the door this dude smacked right into me. "Excuse me, ma, I'm so sorry," he said, picking up the bag of food he caused me to drop.
"Damn, is my food straight?"
"Yeah, luckily it's tightly sealed. Ain't nothin' come out of place." The stranger handed me back my bag and apologized again before going in the Dominican spot. I was just relieved I didn't have to go back inside and stand in that line again.
"Shit, some stupid motherfucker blocking me in. Now I gotta wait for the person to come back, so I can pull out this bitch," I vented out loud. I sat in my car, rolled down the window and listened to my Nas mixtape CD. Five minutes later the same dude that bumped me came out of the restaurant and approached the car blocking me in-he was the driver.
"Damn, ma, you must be sick of me. First the food, now I'm holding you up. My fault." Whatever nigga, I thought to myself, just move yo'shit.
"No problem," I lied. After the stranger moved his car, I pulled off, and before long I was on the George Washington Bridge heading back to Jersey. By the time I got on Route 17 North heading towards Saddle River, the normally smooth ride in my Benz was feeling rather shaky. Part of me wanted to keep going, but another part of me didn't want to take any chances. It was getting dark, and I had to go up those long winding
Jamal paused before saying with grin, "I don't think my fiancee would like that too much. She would take one look at you and shut it down."
"Fiancee? You're getting married?"
"Yes, I am, in a few months."
"Congratulations. She's a lucky woman. Look at you. You're this handsome, successful businessman."
"Thank you, but I feel like the lucky one. Nina is a terrific woman. I think you would like her, Precious."
"I'm sure I would. Maybe one day you two can come over for dinner."
"That's an excellent idea. But let's do one better. This time you can come over to my place for dinner. I'll set that up with Nina and give you a call."
"Definitely. I'll also speak to my attorney and get back to you with a price."
"Great. I look forward to seeing you again. Have a good night."
"You too." I felt some kinda way when Jamal revealed he was engaged, almost jealous. Maybe it was because I felt he was about to embark on the life that I was supposed to share with Supreme. Whatever it was, I had to admit it made me curious. I was interested in meeting the woman who had stolen my first's heart. Besides, letting Jamal and his fiancee play host and getting Supreme's business in order would keep my mind occupied, and hopefully dissuade my potential deadly infatuation with Pretty Boy Mike.
6 Ve t~ (4ayz d Ve t~
For the next few weeks, I kept going back and forth with my attorney regarding what type ofmoneyAtomic Records should be bringing to the table, and if I should shop to other places in order to start a bidding war for Supreme's music. Between that, I avoided Mike's calls because I hadn't quite figured out how to deal with our undeniable attraction. I did need him as a source of information to see if he heard about any moves Nico was making, but I wasn't sure I could trust the feedback. Mike wasn't the type of man that could be handled with kid gloves, and until I determined how to make him work for me and not against me, I decided to keep him at arms length.
Later on that day, I had a doctor's appointment in Midtown. I scheduled a meeting with a top-notch plastic surgeon to have reconstructive surgery done on the scar left on my chest from the bullet, courteous of Nico. The physician who made the original incision did an excellent job, but why not make it less noticeable if possible? After my consultation and setting up the actual date for the surgery, I decided to stop off at my favorite Dominican chicken and rice spot in Washington Heights. I double-parked and flicked on my hazardous lights before running in the joint. After about five minutes they handed me my order, and when I walked out the door this dude smacked right into me. "Excuse me, ma, I'm so sorry," he said, picking up the bag of food he caused me to drop.
"Damn, is my food straight?"
"Yeah, luckily it's tightly sealed. Ain't nothin' come out of place." The stranger handed me back my bag and apologized again before going in the Dominican spot. I was just relieved I didn't have to go back inside and stand in that line again.
"Shit, some stupid motherfucker blocking me in. Now I gotta wait for the person to come back, so I can pull out this bitch," I vented out loud. I sat in my car, rolled down the window and listened to my Nas mixtape CD. Five minutes later the same dude that bumped me came out of the restaurant and approached the car blocking me in-he was the driver.
"Damn, ma, you must be sick of me. First the food, now I'm holding you up. My fault." Whatever nigga, I thought to myself, just move yo'shit.
"No problem," I lied. After the stranger moved his car, I pulled off, and before long I was on the George Washington Bridge heading back to Jersey. By the time I got on Route 17 North heading towards Saddle River, the normally smooth ride in my Benz was feeling rather shaky. Part of me wanted to keep going, but another part of me didn't want to take any chances. It was getting dark, and I had to go up those long winding
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