14
DYNASTY
S
he was going to be rich. Rich with a capital
R
, that's what City told her. Stretched out on his bed in Pork Chop's house, she believed him. There was money everywhere on the mattress. When she looked to her left, she came face to face with a dead president. When she turned to her right, she appreciated the Constitution even more. Moneyed men signed that American document, which gave her the right to many things, including earning her way out of the projects. And she appreciated them more and more every time she picked up a bill and saw one of their faces.
“Duck,” City said, emptying a bag of money on her.
Dynasty laughed, rolling around in the greenbacks. She'd never had so much fun, except for the other night at the cabin party. She looked at City with new eyes, and hated that in her mind she'd reduced him to a common criminal.
“Word. I still can't believe you thought I was dealing!” He grinned, but she could feel his disappointment. “Talk about a case of the double
D
sâand not the breastesses
D
s either. I'm automatically a criminal because of the
D
s. I
dress
nice.
Drive
a nice car at an early age. And am
determined
to make itâlegitimately. So, tell me again what you thought was in that bag. I have to hear it one more time.” He sat down on the bed next to her, then laid back until his head was resting on her stomach.
She wanted to touch his hair. Tell him a whole bunch of other things, like how cute he was, how nice he was, how he made her feel as if she had a chance to make it too.
“I thought it was . . . drugs.”
He laughed louder now. “Oh, it was drugs all right. Anything people are addicted to is considered a drug.” He hit his fist in his hand, emphasizing his point. “But drugs though, DynastyâI thought you had me figured better than that, kid.”
“What did you expect? You said I was going to be distributing, and every boy in there who laid eyes on me and that bag, were open like they wereâ”
“On drugs! To them though, the autographed Lakers tickets, knockoff Rolexs, and T.O.P. and Trill's not-yet-released CDs are just that. All those dudes in there are window-dressing types. They care about how they look. They want people to think they went to the playoffs, sport ice, and have an in with the two hottest rappers of the south. But”âhe turned his head and looked at herâ“are you ready for what's next? The real money? The new addiction?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
City sat up, then looked around the room. He punched his fist in his palm again. Then stood. “Okay, but you can't tell no one. This is a City and Dynasty exclusive.”
She raised up on her elbows and watched him cross the room. He'd said his name and her name and exclusive in the same sentence, and that made her warm. She wasn't his girlfriend. He wasn't her guy. He just acted like they were together by coming around all the time, keeping her dressed with some money in her pocket, and encouraging her to excel academically. She watched him as he pushed his way inside the midsize closet, disappeared for a second, then appeared with a zippered garment bag.
“This is between us. I have your word on that?”
She loved his New York accent, his Brooklyn style. “Word.”
He smiled, then unzipped the bag, and freed clothes from it. He laid each piece on the bed like a baby, very carefully. “What you think?”
Dynasty looked at the jeans, the button-down shirts, long and short sleeve, then glued her eyes to the tees. They were all hotâsuper hot, but she couldn't say she'd seen them before. “I like them. They're nice.” She fingered the fabrics, then flipped over the jeans and saw rhinestones on them. “Rhinestones. Cool.”
“No. Not rhinestones, crystals. Real one-hundred . . . and they're not just nice, Dynasty. They're our dinner. This is how we're going to eat and you're going to go to school.”
She perked up now, pulling herself up until she could rest her butt back on her ankles. “What do you mean?”
A huge Kool-Aid smile spread on City's face. “This is what I've been working on. I had an artist up north sketch out my ideas, sent that sketch to the next person, who turned them into patterns, then the patterns were sent to a sample maker. I took those samplesâsuper high-end samples to a few people in the fashion and music biz, and voila. I got a couple rappersânamely, your boy Trill and his brotherâare going to rock City Gear, my clothing line, in their next video and on the award shows.”
She hopped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, held him, and rocked him. She was so proud of him that she almost kissed him, and certainly wanted to.
“So, this is the game plan. I'm going to keep getting the clothes made, and you can run the online store. You know, since you're so good with words, I figured you'd write the content . . . so the site don't look ghetto. I'm thinking, in the beginning, like the first year, you should be good for at least one-hundred-fifty a week, plus a City Gear wardrobe. In the second year, who knows? But we can definitely double it.”
Dynasty's mouth opened. City made the money sound like nothing, but to her it was more than a start. Her brain kicked in. In the first year she could make almost eight stacks. The second year she could add almost sixteen to that. Who knew how much she could earn the third? But she did know one thing for certain; by the time college started she'd have a minimum of twenty-three thousand to help her begin her university life.
“You know something else?” City asked, looking deep into her eyes.
“What?”
“I like you, Dynasty. I like your style, your look, how you plan for the future. It's like we're the same person in two different bodies.”
Dynasty blushed. She didn't realize that she had a
look
. Quickly, she gave herself a once-over. With nicer clothes, she had to admit that she wasn't bad on the eyes. She'd come a long way from being the skinny burnt-black poor girl Rufus had teased her about being. In fact, she looked at her dark complexion and City's, and finally realized that black was indeed beautiful and nothing to be ashamed about. She met City's stare again.
“I like you, too,” she confessed, and felt something she'd never felt before. Love.
“I'm glad to hear that,” said City, clapping his hands and pulling her out of a spell. “Now let's go get this money, honey.”
Pork Chop had a third bedroom. An empty room next to City's that would serve as their office. A sign that read
CITY GEAR INT
. INC. was on the door, and two desks were inside, already set up with computers and other office materials. Large boxes were stacked in the corner, the closet, and some had smaller boxes on top of them. This was their inventory: clothing and accessories, some with rhinestones and others without. City had designed for the “average” consumer. The designs with real Australian crystals were in an old rifle safe that Pork Chop had bought years before. Upon inspection, Dynasty realized she could fit four of her in it.
“There's an instruction manual on your desk.” City pointed. “We're going to first set up an eBay store, then roll out the real deal when the database and Web designers finish doing their part.”
Dynasty sat in her office chair, fingering the leather armrests. Her life was changing, and she liked it. She guessed Aunt Maybelline had something to do with it; if she hadn't sent her on that mission impossible to get beer and cigarettes, Dynasty wouldn't have met City.
“Is it hard to do . . . the eBay thing, and inventory? Do I have to ship the merchandise too?” she questioned, loving how she'd moved right into business mode.
City walked over to her, then pulled her to her feet. He held both her hands. “For you, it's going to be easy. And I'll ship the goods twice a week. We should be ready after the trip to New York....”
Her eyes brightened. He hadn't said anything about them going to New York.
“I only take my people home if they're special to me. Nah'mean? Can't take everyone home to your mother. And I thought you'd like to go, too, since we're fam now, and are going to build this business into a dynasty. So what's up? You down for next week? I can get Pork Chop to talk to your aunt.”
Of course she wanted to go. “Yes!” She hugged him. “I'm ready.”
He nodded, grabbing her hands again. Then looked at her as if he could finally see her. “There's something we need to get out of the way first. You never told me if you have a boyfriend. I'm sure someone has snatched you up by now.”
“I've never really had a boyfriend. Friends maybe, but nothing serious.” She looked at his hands holding on to hers like he was afraid to let go. He had said that he was taking her to New York, and that he only took special people home to his mother, right? She grinned.
He reared back his head. “J.R.? Not even him? I thought something was up with you and him.”
J.R. was a fool with feet. They'd hung out and he'd tried to kiss her, but she wouldn't let him because his breath smelled like smoke.
“We hung out, but that's it. There's someone I like though,” she admitted again, and felt like a fool because she'd just told him minutes before that she liked him. Her nerves were getting to her.
City pulled her close, then wrapped his arms around her. He smelled as clean as he looked. “So no one has ever held you like this?”
She shook her head no. No one had, not even her mother, who'd traded Dynasty and her brother, King, for the streets and a life of drugs.
He lifted her chin, then looked into her eyes. “Anyone ever connect with you like this?”
Again, her head turned from side to side. Her stomach started to flutter, and her palms began to sweat. Her heart tried to beat its way out of her chest, and she couldn't make her lungs cooperate anymore; her breaths were sporadic, coming whenever and however they chose.
“So you've never been kissed either? I mean really kissed.”
“Not really,” she came clean. She'd been pecked on the lips, kissed on the cheek, and once some boy ran up to her as a dare, grabbed her face, and put his slobbery mouth on hers and tried to force his tongue into her mouth, but she refused to part her lips, and kicked him in his privates. So, no, she'd never been really kissed.
City bent forward, his hand still under her chin. “It's our job to look out for each other. You know that, don't you?”
She nodded.
“So since there's someone you
like
, I just can't have you going around not knowing what you're doing. Impressions are everything. And I think it's best that we get this out of the way so we can concentrate on business.” Gently he put his lips on hers, giving her soft kisses. “We can't work together if it's too much tension. So do you mind if I
really
kiss you?”
She shook her head no again.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
She did. Then she felt his mouth press against hers, and she parted her lips.
“Dynasty! Dynasty! Dynasty!” a woman's voice yelled from outside. “Come on out here!”
She ignored the voice for as long as she could, enjoying the kiss.
“Dynasty! Dynasty! Dynasty!” the voice repeated, not pausing between words.
City released her. “Who's that?”
“Lipstick. The woman who gave birth to me.”