The Drug Dealer's Wife.

#2 - Probation Officer Samuels

Last night felt like a dream. It was everything I wanted and more. I haven't had that much sex in so long, I felt like a virgin again doing it for the first time. Bryson made sure I was completely satisfied, and he didn't care how long it took. He put it down, and made sure I remembered that he was the realest man to ever do it.

Musiq Soulchild's So Beautiful played in the background of our bedroom as I rose from my slumber. Rolling over to snuggle back underneath my man, I noticed he wasn't there. His side of the bed was already made up, and he left a note with a tray of breakfast there waiting for me.

Annoyance hit me instantly as I read his small letter. Bryson already left home to go consult with some of his friends that was in his drug organization. He was going to be gone all day, and wanted me to meet up with his probation officer for him. Throwing the note back on the tray, I stuffed down three pancakes that were on the plate and sighed with pleasure. Hey, I couldn't be mad and hungry at the same time. That was a recipe for disaster.

I phoned Bryson numerous times, all which were declined. I knew what came with the territory of being with a kingpin, but that didn't mean it was something I wanted to get used to. Bryson knew how I felt about his work ethic, and promised me countless times to compromise. But as each call went to voicemail, I wondered if everything we discussed went through one ear and out the next.  

I stared back at the note, and eyed the information concerning Bryson's probation officer. I haven't met the man as yet, but I was already over the experience. Probation officers often had a bad name, and everyone I knew who had one hated them with a serious passion. I wasn't looking forward to cutting my busy schedule to go meet with some man who probably was determined to make my man's life a living hell, but the things you do for love.

My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it quickly thinking it was going to be Bryson. I answered the phone without looking at the I.D, and to my greater annoyance, it was my very absentee mother asking for money.

"I promise this is the last time sweetheart. Just cut me one of those wonderful checks." my mother pressed.

"Cut it out, Beverly. You and I both know this won't be the last time. How much do you need?" I asked.

"Oh, only around ten grand."

"Ten grand?! The fuck you need ten thousand dollars for?" I exclaimed.

"Wait a minute, who's the mother here, me or you? I'm doing some refurbishing in the house and that's the total. I don't make these prices up." my mother said.

I sighed restlessly and moved out of bed. Here I was thinking that today was going to be a stress-free day and that I could finally get ahead with my accounting business. But now look, first Bryson's bullshit, then my mother's constant greed for money.

"Just take it out of Rocky's stash. It's not like he'd know." Beverly continued. "What's the point of being married to a drug lord if you can't get what you want?"

"He would know, mother. He counts his shit all the time." I rebutted. "And why are you even speaking of Bryson? You know all the business transactions I make to you is always my money."

"Which I would never understand." my mother shot back. "Honey, honestly. What's the point of you even being with this man if you don't get piece of the pie? The streets are talking dear, and they're saying he's loaded with even more money now that he's out. You better grab that shit while you can! Keep yours and spend his until his money flow stops. Only Lord knows when they're gonna catch him again and throw away the key for good."

I rolled my eyes at my mother's cynical way of thinking. A lot of people thought I married Bryson for his money. When we were dating, I'm pretty sure Bryson did too. But I built my business, took care of myself and plenty others all on my own. I didn't need a man for financial aid. I had my back and my front.

"I'll get you the money by tomorrow." I said.

"Oh, thank you baby! Mommy loves you."

I hung up from my mother's aggravating ass and proceeded to get ready. Today was off to a slow start, but at least I could still look good while I fought the battle. I stepped out the house in the latest Fendi and Chanel, and I know I had my female neighbors shook when I stepped out. Those hateful hoes always had something to say about my marriage and about me, but they couldn't say shit about my outfit. I knew I was poppin'.

Warming up the BMW, I tried my best to calm my nerves. I hated meeting with any police official. They made me extremely anxious, for they had a way of twisting your words around and making you seem like the accuser. When Bryson was incarcerated, I let all of his lawyers speak for me when it was my time to be investigated. I don't know what it was, but I'd always choke up around them men in black. And that wasn't good for someone who was innocent.

I arrived on the scene earlier than intended. I sat in the car and waited until I was fifteen minutes late to stroll in to Probation Officer Samuels' office. I needed to leave a long-lasting impression and being fashionable late was the answer. I was hoping to waltz in there, have this man completely stunned by my beauty, and hop out without even having to entertain much conversation.

"Mr. Samuels will see you now." a secretary lady said when I walked into the building, stating my claim. "Your tardiness backed him up severely."

I smiled apologetically and walked through the door she instructed. As I opened the huge entrance, I couldn't help but mentally critique the awful walls and décor. The office looked like it hasn't been cleaned in months, however could someone stay yet work in this environment. Glancing around, no one was in sight and I walked over to what seemed like the most clean seat in the space. I prayed to God that this little meeting would be straight to the point and brief. My $988-dollar Fendi pants did not deserve this.

Half an hour passed, and I knew this had to be a fucking joke. This man was wasting my valuable time, my valuable money-making time. I had so much on the agenda today and Mr. Samuels was without a doubt wasting my twenty four hours. Bryson owed me for this one, and some bomb ass head wasn't going to cut it.

"Now you see it's not fun when the shoe is on the other foot."

Glancing up from my phone, I paused scrolling through my notifications to see this man glaring back at me with his arms folded. I sighed in absolute dismay and reminded myself about three times that I was a happily married woman. The man shook his head and walked over to me, sitting in the opposite chair. He loosen his tie and rolled up his sleeves, causing me to look away so I wouldn't drool. He was a fine one alright, and I think he knew it too.

"I take that you are a representative for Mr. Harding?"

I snapped back into reality and nodded. "Yes, I'm his wife. Mr. Harding couldn't be here today."

"And why's that?"

This good looking man glanced up at me, ceasing from his note taking. Bryson's absence was a good question, a query that I didn't quite have the full answer to. But this man didn't need to know that, so I was going to lie until the cows came home.

"Well you see-" I started.

"It doesn't matter. Make sure he's present at the next appointment. Let's not start this partnership off on a bad start. By the way, my name is Eman Samuels, and I'll be your husband's probation officer for the next year or so. Even though your husband has done his deed, we still need to monitor his behavior. I'll be taking over from Miss Victoria Linch, his previous probation officer."

I snapped my mouth close and digested Samuels' statement. He looked at me with a blank expression, I couldn't tell if he was feeling me or not. I slapped myself mentally and pressed my lips in. I shouldn't care if he was feeling me, I was a damn married woman who respected her vows and her union.

"So is that it?" I asked.

"For now, yes. There's not much we need to discuss seeing that Mr. Harding isn't here." Eman said.

"Okay, I'll just go then."

"Good." Eman Samuels replied. "And next time, please don't sit in my office chair."