Trey. Strong. Dark. Powerful. Brooding. He was everything a woman wanted her man to be, and as Dinah approached him, she suddenly understood why Mani had slipped up. Damn, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, Dinah thought. It amazed Dinah how Trey was able to transition from the streets into retirement. He had given up the game early. It was a shame too, because no one in the Midwest knew how to move cocaine with such expertise.
"What brings the infamous Dinah Jane to my city?" Trey asked as he sat sipping a glass of cognac. To the average eye he was just a man in a bar. Nothing about him was flashy, except the hundred-thousand-dollar Rolex that rested on his tattooed arm. She took a seat beside him as a barkeep came over to greet her.
"What can I get you?" the man asked.
"Lemon-drop martini, please," Dinah responded with a polite smile. She was one of the most powerful women in the world, but she hid it well. She wasn't even supposed to be anywhere near the United States, but the team she'd built was falling apart. There was too much money on the line to let anything fall through the cracks.
"How are you, Trey?" Dinah asked.
"I'm living. Can't complain," he answered.
"It looks to me like you're drowning your heartache in a thousand-dollar bottle," Dinah said.
"Ain't no heartache. I dealt with the past a long time ago. Salona can't rest in peace if I'm living in hell," he said.
"I wasn't talking about Salona," Dinah replied knowingly.
Trey wasn't a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He didn't even flinch at her suggestion. He didn't acknowledge or deny it. What was between him and Normani was reserved for the two of them. He couldn't lie to himself, however. Seeing Normani in that white dress and watching her leave with the next man had done something to him.
"I'm coming here as a friend," Dinah said. "We need to press PAUSE on the dealings between you and Lauren. If I can't put the two of you in a room together then this will never work. I know you were doing this as a favor to me, but things have changed."
"It's all good, Dinah. I don't need the bread. I've put in enough work. I don't need to put my hand in the streets another day of my life, and my children will still be set for the rest of their lives. Lauren got the girl, she got the plug, I'm out of it. The bitch shouldn't want no smoke, but if she do I'm about that too."
"The last thing we need is two ethnic people warring each other. Out of respect you'll still get your cut. That's my word to you," she said. Her heart completely broke for Trey. He was too good of a man to be alone. He was the perfect balance of intellectual and street.
He didn't speak too much, but when he did, profound wisdom flowed from him. He wasn't the caricature of gangster. He lived and breathed it without clowning himself. It was effortless. He was as well versed on Gandhi as he was on gunplay, and it was incredibly sexy. Trey thrived on knowledge; the streets actually detracted from that, but he knew it was necessary to check the pulse of the underworld every once in a while. It was what kept new niggas from blowing his head off and taking the piece of the pie he had carved for himself. Trey moved in silence, and Dinah respected him. She reached toward him and placed a hand on top of his folded ones. "I hope you find what you're looking for Trey."
"Finding it has never been my problem; it's keeping it that's the issue," he responded as he finished his drink. He stood from the table, placing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. "Safe travels. Good luck with the lick, and give my regards to Snow." He left her there feeling like she had just been in the presence of royalty. Dinah definitely didn't envy Normani . She could only imagine how hard it had been choosing between Lauren and Trey. Now Dinah had to hope that Normani's love life hadn't fucked up the opportunity of a lifetime.
