No Time for Love

Chapter 3: Handle

And if I can't trust you, the fuck is you here for?
Some of you niggas' true colors becoming clear more

                         Nas x Trust

DJ

 “What nigga!” Black exclaimed. “Yo ass gonna tell me, you won't smash Stacy Dash!”

I laughed looking out the car window.

“I ain't say that, nigga. Christina Milian just better.”

Black shook his head.

This the shit I do with him. Being in a confined space with nigga is not good for my sanity. We always end up doing some childish shit. Take this game for instance.

“Aight, then.” he said rubbing his chin. “Cougar City” he said

“Yo, that shit easy.” I laughed. “Lisa Raye”

“I think Gabrielle Union.”

I had to disagree with Black on that one. Gabby was alright but Lisa way better. Think about it. Even when she was acting as a stripper, she was still classy with her shit.

“Nigga what!?” I yelled. “Nah Lisa better. That ass is fat.”

Black looked out the window like he was thinking.

“Alright, I'll give you that one. That ass is on bubble status.”

I nodded my head with a smile.

The rest of the ride was us joking around and talking business. The same shit as usual. Conversation stopped when Black pulled up to the barber shop. We both hop out his black Hummer and make our way inside.

As I walk through the shop doors, bells chime. Looking around, I see all the chairs full. Men were sitting in the waiting section either watching the game or talking shit as usual. Everything was the same except for one thing. There was a girl sweeping the hair from the checker board floor.

She was brown skin with a short hair cut. Her body was slim and her face was pretty. Let's not forget to mention that ass.

“Yo.” I tapped Black. “Who dat?” I asked jerking my head to the girl sweeping.

Black turned to me and shrugged.

“Shit. This yo shop nigga. Ion't know.”

Black was right. This was my shop. I needed something more than the drug cartel. Owning real businesses and having my name in the books is keeping the police off my ass. If they see me with all this shit with no real occupation, then what? A nigga would be clinked in no time. Staying on the safe side, and being the smart nigga I am, I knew better. Never get caught slipping. Sometimes you gotta do extra shit to get extra shit.

“Nigga you right.” I thought.

How she get here in the first place? Now I know niggas know, that all potential employees need to get checked. By me specifically. I don't trust just anybody to come up in my shit and fuck with my money. I don't give a fuck how innocent, good, or cool they look. I don't know them. So best believe I don't trust them. A nigga must be slipping if nobody got the sense to even think about getting my consent.

I nod my head at the thought.

“Yo! Benny,” I yelled. “Let me speak to you for a minute.”

Benny is the dude I put in charge when I'm not here. Which is a lot of the time. So I must trust this nigga a lot if I'm putting in charge of my money. If he fuck up, I fuck up.