Dirty Work: Part 1

“We need to leave, go for a drive or something,” Kip suggested.

“Leave, and go where?”

“Upstate to see Nana.”

Hearing that woman’s name had created a foul look on Kid’s face. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, Kid, I am. It’s about time you go and see her and stop being so fuckin’ stubborn. She raised you and took care of us when she didn’t have to.”

Kid sighed.

“Look, do it for me, just this once. She asked about you, so be the bigger person and come say hi.”

Kid relented. He knew it would mean a lot to his brother. But for him, it was going to be an agonizing trip. He’d always believed that Nana was a materialistic, conniving bitch who only used people to get what she wanted or needed in life. She had everybody fooled, but not him.

Fifteen

Jessica couldn’t believe that she was in Las Vegas. Maserati Meek had flown them first class on an American Airlines flight, and so far, everything was going well. Flying first class was the best—more leg room with fully reclined seats, privacy, wine, and gourmet meals. She was becoming spoiled already.

She stepped off the plane, still elated. She was over the moon being in Vegas with a baller and shot-caller like Maserati Meek. Just like that, she had gotten her wish.

Jessica strutted through the airport terminal with Maserati Meek and was ready to leap out the doors and into the desert sun and crash into nothing but luxury and opulence. She wondered what he had planned. Where were they going to stay? Already, there were signs of wealth and escapism, people everywhere looking eager to go gambling, catch a Vegas show, or sin somehow and somewhere, leaving whatever troubles behind. Vegas could easily change a person from a mild-mannered nobody to feeling like a rock star.

McCarran Airport had palm trees in the terminal. Palm trees? The feeling of nostalgia for her hometown was overwhelming.

Maserati Meek was dressed in white shorts, a white button-up shirt, and white loafers, looking more like a vacationer than a drug kingpin. His diamond Rolex gleamed around his wrist. His Middle Eastern accent a

nd appearance turned heads.

Jessica couldn’t wait to get their day started.

Walking through the terminal, Maserati Meek pulled out his cell phone and made a call. He seemed easygoing at the moment, contradicting the eccentric and unpredictable behavior he was known for. He was nice and sweet.

Their conversation on the plane was stimulating. He was educated, funny, and thoughtful. He spoke about growing up in Egypt, living briefly in England, then Brussels before settling in the States. There was a lot more to him than met the eye. Jessica was stirred up with intrigue and thrill.

He kept promising to give her the world, only if she remained loyal to him, kept their affair private, and stimulated him in the bedroom. He didn’t want a boring woman, and she didn’t want a broke and boring man. It seemed like a match made in heaven.

They stepped outside, and immediately the dry desert heat hit her like a ton of bricks. Being from L.A., she was used to it, but Nevada had a different type of atmosphere. It wasn’t humid heat, but it was still hot.

“How soon?” Jessica heard Maserati Meek say to someone over the phone. “Okay. Good.”

He hung up and smiled at his newfound jump-off. “I know I’m going to enjoy you this weekend,” he said.

They exited the terminal walking casually, and unlike the other suckers waiting in long lines for cabs into the city, Maserati Meek already had something special planned. The moment they were outside, a four-door black Bentley Mulsanne pulled up. The driver stepped out and opened the back passenger door for them. Maserati Meek helped Jessica into the car, and she slid into pure lavishness—leather recliner seats in the back, flat-screen TVs, an 8-inch touch-screen computerized control system, and pricey champagne.

“Wow!”

Maserati Meek sat near her and smiled. “You like?”

“I love it,” she uttered wholeheartedly.

“Now, let’s take you shopping.”

The driver slowly pulled away from the airport terminal and joined the clutter of cars, mostly taxi cabs leaving from the terminal and heading toward the nearest freeway.

Jessica sat back and gazed out the tinted windows. This is what a princess must feel like, she thought. She was in a grand chariot and on her way to enjoy her kingdom with her prince.

The first stop was Crystals at CityCenter, and then the Forum Shops at Caesars, the Grand Canal Shoppes between the Venetian and the Palazzo, and last, but not least, the Miracle Mile Shops near Planet Hollywood.