Identities

2: Bad Girls Are More Than Snacks

Alfonzo let's the smoke swirl around the lady's finger. A smile pierces her eyes, he can tell it charms her. His dark complexion stands out from the lime-green cushioning behind him. Her hazelnut eyes compel him to smile once again. "Yous sexy as hell girl," another puff floats from his lips to her smooth face. The dark of her eyes seem to unravel his secrets, staring past his soul with intensity. Then, with a startling swiftness, she spins for him, teasing his longing for her. But it soon fades away. The bar's door swings wide open and the sexiest thing comes walking in. Her legs mesmerize his gaze, her stride shows off her powerful confidence, her swaying black hair gives him chills. He watches as she orders a shot of Stagg Jr. Bourbon whiskey, and downs it like water. Who is this girl? He can't help but to readjust his golden necklace.
"Sorry lady, yous bad as hell, but I think I just met my next wife." He hurries to his feet and forces them in the mystery girl's direction.
He sits two seats from her to the right. Giving a couple glances at her to get a better look. He notices now that her dark hair is pure black, and that a slim leather jacket and jeans, reveal her curvy body. She turns her head toward him and he quickly eyes her shot glass, "I'll have what she's having" he tells the bartender. He looks into the woman's pretty hazel eyes, "yous like Stagg Jr. do you?" his hand gently itches his short goatee.
A Brooklyn accent responds, "of course! It's been my go to for a while now." she lets out a contagious giggle that catches Alfonzo's eye.
"You're from New York I suppose?"
"Brooklyn, yeah" she takes another shot before calling for another one, "that obvious huh?"
"Nah, I mean yous have a little bit of the accent. It's not stereotypical, so most people wouldn't know. But I'm from there myself, I know it when I hear it." he starts another little itch of his chin hair. Then takes a shot himself.
"Oh yous grew up there too? Where?"
"Downtown near Forte Green."
"No shit? I tried a painting of the two-faced statue there at the park. Turned out shitty it did" she gives out a nervous laugh and starts fiddling with her shot glass. He smirks before saying,
"ah, that statue was already ugly anyways." he starts studying her beautiful face before taking another shot. Watching her giggle at his little joke. He notices she isn't wearing any make-up, and if she were, it's little to none. After gulping down his other shot he clears his throat, "sorry. Where's my manners? I'm Alfonzo Barnes, but yous can call me Fonzo if you'd want." he reaches his hand across the bar.
She reaches back and meet his giant hand. It almost fully encompasses her own, "yous can call me Davina. Davina Abigail".

About an hour later and Fonzo finds himself escorting Davina into his hotel. He watches as her eyes fixate on the furniture, the big window facing Los Angeles, and the whole allure of his place. The marble white colors create a sparkle in her eyes, then he smiles upon her. Appreciating her powerful presence in his home. There's something about this girl that entices him, and he's dead-set on finding out what that is.
"I see yous like my place eh?" he starts, "or is it too much?" he invites her to sit in the comfy chair across from him. He's a bit surprised that she sits next to him on the designer couch.
"No, no. It's beautiful. Really lovely." she expresses, crossing one of her legs over the other. Her left elbow relaxes on the arm rest while she uses her delicate-looking fingers to curl her dark locks.
Fonzo's phone starts ringing. He reluctantly takes his gaze off Davina, onto his phone. He can't help but to roll his eyes, "sorry, I gotta take this." he heads for the balcony, closes the sliding door behind him, and answers the call.
"What is it this time?" he aggressively says in a low murmur.
"It's Terry. He was caught. He's in questioning now." his cousin can be heard sighing on the other end.
"Was Concord one of the men questioning him?" Fonzo wanted to make sure.
"Yeah but Fonz, it doesn't matter. Terry started spitting out shit."
That's all he needed to hear, "alright, put an end to it Blake. Don't let him say another word and tell me when the job is done." he abruptly hangs up. "Fuck!" He whispers under his breath. Almost throwing a tantrum right then and there, but remembering to keep his cool in front of the fine ass female he has just inside. He collects himself with a huge deep breath, and walks back inside.
He starts for the couch again, "sorry about that," he sits down. He tilts his body toward hers, "so, what's your story?" his eyes squint, as if he were to look hard enough, he could see all the answers he looked for.
"Why yous asking?" her fingers pause between curls.
"There's something about yous I can't put my finger on. Yous seem like you've seen a thing or two, know what I mean?"
Her fingers begin curling again and she smirks a bit, " well, I was a wrestler in high school, only lost once. And - and both my parents died in a car wreck," her eyes stop at his, "I survived."
"Sorry to hear that," he readjusts his seating position to see her even better, "but it ain't that. Something else I feel like.." his eyes start to wonder off.
She closes her eyes and it looks as if she tries to hide them rolling in defeat, "I was in jail for some time."
This really catches his attention, "for what?" A new excitement rang through his voice.
"Assault and battery. I whipped the hell out of a couple bitches and one of their husbands."
"All of a sudden, I like yous a lot more!" he itches his chin hair with a slight smile. For a second, he can't concentrate whilst looking at her prowess. The lean leather jacket accompanies the noises from the squeaky couch, her tight black jeans curve with her legs perfectly. A couple holes show her elegant skin beneath.
She giggles before gently touching the closest wrist of his, "for a guy just wanting to get in my pants, yous sure do have a lotta life questions."
His eyes turn back to meet hers. Fireworks seem to light off in his mind, his belly tells him of the butterflies that roam throughout, and his skin tickles with her touch. His nose sounds out a little laugh, "who said I only wanted that?"