Читать книгу A Dollar And Dream - Carl Weber - Страница 12

“So, Kerri, maybe we can have dinner sometime?” I wasn’t sure, but it looked like Katrice was giving me a hint to try and get with Kerri before she left. So I was gonna see where it went. “How about Red Lobster?”

“I don’t do Red Lobster, but you can take me to Legal Seafoods if you want.”

“Ah, I don’t know much about Legal Seafoods. What’s it like?”

“It’s expensive, Paul. Like me.” She smiled and it seemed like the entire hallway lit up. “Do you think you can afford a woman like me? A high maintenance woman?”

“Well, yeah, I think so. I mean, I like you, Kerri. I’d do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”

“Really? Well, I might keep you to that,” she teased. “Look, I have to check my calendar and I’ll get back to you about dinner, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. Let me know when you check your calendar.” I frowned. She was giving me the runaround just like usual. Damn, I shouldn’t have even asked her out. I picked up my trash and took a step towards the stairs.

“Hey, Paul,” she called. I stopped and turned around. “I’m having a couple of people over the day after this Saturday night to watch the Tyson fight. Why don’t you bring over a bottle of Dom Perignon and a bottle of Moet, say around nine? You can be my date.”

“Sure, but why you gonna need both?”

“Because I’m not quite sure what I’m gonna be thirsty for. I thought you said you’d do whatever it takes to make me happy?”

“I did.”

“Then I’ll expect you to have both. Now I’ve gotta get some sleep.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek. My dick got hard right away. Thank God she didn’t look down at my sweatpants before she closed the door, because my shit was poking out so far my pants looked like a tent.

I picked up my bag of garbage and walked down the stairs with a stupid grin on my face. I never really thought I’d have a shot with Kerri. I guess I always thought she was too high maintenance for me. And in truth, she still might be. Dom and Moet? But I wasn’t about to let a chance like this go by without trying. Kerri had to be one of the finest women I’d ever met.

When I got downstairs I went around to the side of building where the trash cans were. Freddie was there, rummaging headfirst through one of the cans. It turned my stomach to see a grown man with his hands all up in that nasty shit.

“Freddie, what the hell are you doing, man?”

“I’m trying to find this brown envelope for Rodney. He said he was gonna give me two dollars if I found it. I’m gonna buy me some lottery tickets.” He bent back over into the can and started digging again. I grabbed him by his coat and pulled him out.

“Freddie, man, get the hell outta there. Here, I’ll give you the two dollars.” I reached in my sweatpants pocket, pulled out two dollars, and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Paul. Thank you!” He looked like he was gonna bust a gasket. “Man, when we hit, I’m gonna split it with you. I swear to God.”

“A’ight, Freddie, you do that. Just don’t be going through no more garbage. You hear?”

“A’ight, Paul. No problem. Look, I’m gonna go get in line so I can buy our tickets.” He turned around and headed straight for the Quick-Mart, which meant he’d be guzzling down a forty-ounce in about ten minutes.

I put my trash in the can and covered it with the lid. When I turned to go back inside, Rodney was standing in my way. I couldn’t stand his ass. Poisoning our people with his drugs and shit.

“Where’s Freddie?” he growled.

“I gave him two dollars and sent him on his way. Why the fuck you have him going through the trash?”

“That’s none of your damn business. Ain’t nobody tell you to send Freddie nowhere.” He took a step toward me, trying to get all up close and personal. Only problem was, he was about six inches shorter than I was and put no fear in my heart.

I pushed him backwards. “You better get the fuck out my face, man.”

What?” He threw his hands in the air, rocking his head like he was about to do something. “You talking to me, nigga? You better recognize.”

“Recognize what? That you a thug?”

“You looking to get fucked up, ain’t you?”

“If you feel froggy? Leap. Just make sure you don’t get stomped in the process. ’Cause you don’t scare me.” We stared at each other, eye to eye. I was not about to back down to this sorry-ass fool, and he sure as hell wasn’t really gonna step to me. Rodney was a punk when it came right down to it.

“You lucky I got some shit to take care of, otherwise CSI would be looking for a body bag for your ass.” He tried to sound menacing, but it wasn’t working on me.

“Let them know I’m a size forty-two,” I told him.