Live Fancy

 I turned the key to lock the door and tossed them in my bag. I walked down the hall towards the elevator and caught a quick glance in the full size mirror adjacent to doors and made sure I made a good first impression. Six inch heels on, check. Lipstick, check. Rain coat, check. As soon as I stepped out into the lobby I could see the white range parked outside waiting for me.

 The rain started to fall creating what looked like frequency static in the headlights of the truck. I hurriedly opened the door to avoid the downpour and slid onto the tan leather seats.

He licks his lips and turns down the system.

 "Damn girl, you really tryna shut shit down huh?"

 "You awwready know what it is. Like a Spike Lee joint, I do the thing right." (Yes, I'm that corny in person but I make it sound sexy.) Yeah, I was not playin' that night. Heels were serious. Fit was crazy tight and shorty was lookin' crazy right. I don't know why I'm going into so much detail though...

 We hit up habibi's, get a few phillies and proceed to head back to the crib. Duke has a very nice set up in the burbs just east of the city and where I stay. Cars lined the street; all his. We pull up next to the caddy and walk up to the front door. 

 Once inside I slip off my shoes and instantly lose a few inches. Standing at almost 5'7 barefoot, I'm ushered into the living room. Upon entering my eyes are immediately drawn to the coffee table adorned with Benjamins Bordens (C-Notes). He must have had at least 50 stacks coolin' between the TV Guide and the daily newspaper. He tells me to make myself comfortable while he goes to check something in the other room. On some mi casa es su casa type shit. For someone to trust you in a room full of paper like that... it's just... wow. He's lucky I'm not an opportunistic hood booger with a false sense of entitlement trying to eat off of someone else's plate. We sit down, smoke a few blunts, watch some EPK's dude put together as well as a few Cam interviews he hadn't seen. We discuss the business and future endeavors. Conversation flows nicely throughout the evening.

 I must have lost track of time because 2am came and left fairly quickly. I had errands to run the following morning so I let him know we needed to roll. The ride home we bumped a few tracks from artists on his label, and one in particular he'd written, produced and performed himself. He's trying to push it within the next few weeks and I'm helping him with the promotion concepts. About 2 blocks from my complex he looks over at me and turns the volume down on the stereo. He clears his throat and shit starts to get real ya'll...

 "You know, I like you... and I want you to ride with me. I want you to stop fucking with other niggas if we're going to do this though. I don't wanna waste my time. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm at a place in my life where I'm on the verge of doing big things and making shit happen. Things are only going to get better from here and I want to take you with me."

 Damn.

To Be Continued...