Hostile Takeover
“Who’s she?” Bobby said.
“I don’t know.” I stopped and watched her walk away. “And I’m not all that interested in finding out.”
“Ass like that … I might be.”
“Rail thin, flat chested, fat tute-booty; she got fuck me Bobby written all over her,” I said as we got to the bar and were met with two glasses of Rémy.
“Black, Bobby, what’s up?”
“What’s going on, Doc?”
“You must be getting an early start on your tip,” Bobby said and dropped a twenty on the bar.
“Always on that paper chase, Bobby, you know that. I got a young wife that likes to shop,” Doc came back.
“Leave the bottle,” I said as I put a fifty on the bar. “Anything I need to know about?”
Doc put his hand on the fifty. “Everything is quiet.”
“Busy night?” When I moved my hand, Doc quickly pocketed the fifty.
“’Bout average,” Doc said.
“Looks like a big night,” Bobby said. “All these hoes up in here; I know these niggas making paper.”
“How many hoes Emmet got working here now?”
“Ten,” Doc said proudly and that told me all I needed to know, but we stayed anyway.
“What about that one there?” Bobby asked and pointed as tute-booty stripped and started dancing.
“Who, Candy?”
“What’s up with her?”
“They tell me that she sucks dick like its candy.”
“Good to know,” Bobby said.
We had been there for a couple of hours gambling and fuckin’ around with the women, Bobby was talkin’ shit and we were both fucked up when this nigga starts wolfin’ some shit at Bobby about us cheating, which we were. But that wasn’t the point. He pulled his gun.
“You’re gonna give me back my money, nigga.”
Bobby looked at me, and out of respect, we both looked at Emmet. He extended his hand to let us know that he was cool with us dealing with this nigga. I discreetly put my hand on my gun and sat back.
Bobby leaned forward. “It’s right here. Come get it.”
“Pass it over.”
“Fuck that. You want this money come get it.”
With his gun still pointed at Bobby, he got up and came around the table slowly. When he did, the other men got up from the table.
“Show me your hands,” he said as he got closer to Bobby.
When Bobby brought his hands up from under the table, he saw the gun in Bobby’s hand and he stopped. Bobby held the gun up and put it on the table slowly. When he did, the man started walking again.
“Now, stand up and move away from the table.” Bobby stood up, but he didn’t move. The man gripped his gun tighter. “I said move away from the table!” he shouted and Bobby just laughed at him.