Her Sweetest Revenge (Delphine Publications Presents) by Author Saundra

the guy that was staring at me earlier while he was at the bar. When Rochelle introduced Hood he never looked up. He was texting on his phone. The sight of him made me feel a little nervous and speechless. I was never speechless, especially over some guy, some thug. That simply wasn’t my style. So at that moment I chilled. Hood spoke up first.
     
    “ Mya, that’s it, right?” he asked without looking up at me.
     
    “ You got it,” I replied trying to sound cool while feeling like all eyes in the room were on me.
     
    “ We have an open bar in here so help yourself. If you don’t see anything you want in here the waitress will be back in a minute. You can order whatever you want.”
     
    “ Thanks,” I said as I followed Rochelle over to the bar.
     
    “ Girl, did you see the way Hood looked at you when you entered the room? He likes you, Mya,” Rochelle babbled.
     
    “ No, he don’t. He was not lookin’ at me. He don’t even know me. He was only trying to show off, and you know that don’t impress me,” I reminded her and rolled my eyes.
     
    “ Mya, you can say what you want. Hood wants you. These hoes have been breaking this door down trying to get to Hood since we got here. They did the same thing last week, and when they do get in here, he don’t give them the time of day. But when you first stepped in here, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Trust me, he wants you,” Rochelle beamed.
     
    “ First off, when we first stepped in, the nigga was texting.”
     
    “ Girl, that was a front because while I was introducing you to everyone, he was checking you out. I’m telling you, he wants you.”
     
    “ Well, I don’t want him or any of these other niggas up in here. I got better shit to do with my time.” Rochelle handed me the drink she was mixing for me. Pretending not to give what she said another thought, I took a sip of my drink, threw my head back, and started relaxing to the beat.
     

Chapter 11
     
    My plan for this morning seemed like it was already off track. I was supposed to get up and catch the bus to go meet my dad’s friend Big Nick at the crack of dawn. I called him last week to see if he could get me some clean guns, and he said he would take care of it. He told me when, where, and what time to show up, which happened to be first thing this morning, but this morning, I woke up late and with a little unwanted anxiety. Not that I was chickening out or anything, but just the reality of this robbery actually taking place slowed my pace a little bit, I think.
     
    But squash all that. I got up and got moving. I had missed the bus that I planned on catching, which meant I had to pay a cab about fifty bucks to take me across town. I didn’t want to pay that money, but forget it. Yesterday I did six heads so I’m straight. Plus, I hit the supermarket on Friday, so we are good on food, but still, I could’ve used that money on something else, but I couldn’t be late to meet Big Nick. If I’m late he ain’t gon’ even deal with me. My dad used to always say, “Big Nick is a timey nigga.” That means be on time or forget it.
     
    When the cab finally pulled up to the penthouse that Big Nick lived in, I couldn’t do anything but stare up at the huge building for a minute. It was really nice. This is definitely some shit I haven’t seen in a long time. Before my dad went into prison, we would ride out of the hood all the time to go shopping and to eat at expensive restaurants, but that’s been a whole lifetime ago, so standing in front of the Pavilion Penthouse, a huge high-rise building on the north side of Detroit, left me impressed. This building looked like something only well-off people lived in for sure. It had those huge Italian windows and a doorman in uniform standing outside waiting to let me in.
     
    After gathering my composure I spoke to the doorman who greeted me. He then directed me to the customer service desk where they would let Big Nick know I was in the