Hard work, dedication, and focus; 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯 just wanted change in his hood, his parenting, and off his previous mindset, while growing interest in someone he felt was above his level.
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"𝐆𝐎𝐓 y'all that fish," he announced, carrying in the sheet pan into the kitchen section of the market. He sat the sheet on the designated table for Trish to reach for a new batch to fry. He looked shortly to notice Sal missing. "Where boss at?"
"Out front talkin' to somebody," Trish answered pulling out the finish batch of fish. "Some secret service typ'a mufucka came in askin for him."
"A Secret Service type in Gardens?" he repeated, receiving a head nod from Trish. He hummed, choosing to take himself a break to smoke. It was a slow day, customers coming in every so often to buy a plate or pack of meat.
Before going outside, Dante pulled off the apron, gloves, and hairnet and leaving him in just his sweatsuit. The Chevrolet Suburban with black dark tint was parked a little ways over and just as Trish described, some Secret Service type of men were standing outside the vehicle protectively. There was no sight of his boss, Sal, so he figured he was inside the car with whomever that person was.
While Dante sparked up the BLK Smooth, plenty ideas on why that kind of person was in that neighborhood. He start wondering if Sal's business was falling through and bringing back the cooking just wasn't enough to keep it afloat for any longer.
The thought of losing the only job that would give him a chance after prison stressed him out even more, especially with a second baby on the way. The child crossing his mind made him realize that he hadn't spoke to Camila since it was revealed to him nearly a week ago.
Dante wasn't in the predicament to be jobless.
Noting mentally to go by Camila's after work, Dante took more pulls of the BLK when both back doors of the Chevy Suburban opened and Sal got out with a folder in his hand. Walking around in her YSL pantsuit and pointed toe heels, she went to shake Sal's hand. She was recognized by Dante quickly and Sal came walking over to the entrance.
"Meeting after close," Sal told Dante, entering into the market.
"Comin' here to shut down a black-owned business, Councilwoman?" he asked, loud enough for her to hear.
"Tisa, please," she told him, strutting over his way with a gentle smile. "Why's shutting it down the first thing that comes to mind?" she asked.
"'Cause it's what y'all do—shut down black business before y'all go past Classen to do that to them white folk."
"Well, that sounds like an issue to take up with your current District Senator, ain't it?"
Dante chuckled at the smirk on her lips. "Good one," he said.
"Can't I be doing whatever it is out the good news of my heart?"
"If it was on another side of town; prolly. But over here; nah. Anybody that do something over on this side come wit a motive. So what's yours?"
