His Past, Her Present, Their Future

That Old Flame

Dallas, Texas

July 2000

Danielle

    "What the fuck you mean you don't want to go into business with me? I'm not understanding. Just yesterday you were hyped about signing the contract and shit, now you got cold feet?" My day was going perfect, up until Bria surprised me at home with this bullshit. She lucky I am married to her idiot ass brother, or her ass would've been throw out my damn house.

    "I'm just second guessing myself." She explains, roaming through my pantry for something to eat.

    "And you couldn't tell me this shit over the phone? The way I feel right about now, I can punch that pathetic ass smirk off your face. Bitch you came to me and said that you wanted to be my business partner. I ain't beg you to be my business partner, and I really give two fucks if you want to go into business with me. Why now? Today we sign those fucking documents, and you flaking out?"

    Maybe it is not for me to understand. Bria ain't the smartest grape from the bunch. Somebody had to talk her out of it. Nine times out of ten, Dalvin 'Ugly ass' DeGrate. Had to be. Bria ain't got no business whatsoever in Atlanta; except if her ass is still playing house with Dalvin; the same nigga that almost cost Bria her life. But that ain't my business.

    "You ain't gon' do shit Danielle. And if you would take that tone down two notches, then you can listen to what I have to say. I'm not saying that I don't want to go into business with you, but I am having second thoughts. I don't know a damn thing about the club or what's going on―"

    "You never attend one business meeting, Bria. You don't know shit about the club because you never fucking ask. You could have called me or Jeffrey. Jeffrey lives two damn hours away in Weatherford, but he tries to make all business meetings, and even picked out a location with me. What have you done? Not a goddamn thing besides slob on Dalvin's dick every damn night. You know what, I'on want to go into business with your ass either. It is better off this way."

    "What I do outside of your damn house is my fucking business. You ain't got no right to comment on my life―"

    "Says the bitch who is living under my roof. If you want to continue selling your pussy for money, then you can continue being a damn prostitute. Here I am trying to help your ass―"

    "Prostitute?" Bria shrieks, slamming the refrigerator door shut. "I ain't Brooke. All the niggas I fucked, bitch I been in a relationship with them; something your holier-than-thou ass lack. If I want to fuck Dalvin, then bitch that's my fucking business. You always act like you my mama―"

    "I don't act like shit. I ain't your mama. I'm barely your friend. Since you feel some type of way about me being all in your business and shit, then you can leave. Get all your shit out my house and leave. I'll make sure the tell the fellas that you are no longer on the team, and to not contact you about anything regarding the club."

    Since college Bria has not had the best of luck keeping a job. She dropped out of school during our last semester. I didn't ask no questions, ya know. I thought I was doing the right thing by giving her a job. A permanent job. Same for her broke ass brother. Nathan can't hold a job, nor keep money in his pocket. Bria sees through her brother. Nathan hides everything from his sister. She believes her brother has a job, all while I give the nigga money every damn day. If Bria wants to continue struggling in life, the bitch can struggle living under a damn bridge for all I care.