Of course, Noble had no idea what kind of financial trouble Malisha was in, and she damn sure wasn’t about to tell him. He wasn’t gonna be able to guess neither, because Malisha kept herself up. It wasn’t like she walked around looking like she was two steps away from a soup kitchen. She looked like a stunna, and she played that role like a champ. Her clothing was quality, and she always looked classy and sexy. Even if she was dead broke.
Malisha knew Noble was standing on a pot of gold because she’d met him when he came into the bank to fill out an application for a safety deposit box.
As luck would have it, the girl who usually handled the job had just been promoted, and when the branch manager had asked Malisha to take Noble downstairs to the vault, she’d jumped right on it.
Noble had handed in his application, then chose one of the biggest damn boxes the bank had to offer.
“What you gonna put in there?” Malisha couldn’t stop herself from blurting out when the tall dude dressed in a police uniform had pointed at a box that looked more like a safe. “Your car?”
Noble had laughed, and the sight of his ultrabright smile and warm brown eyes made something stir in Malisha.
“Nah, I’m not gonna drive the ’Vette up in there,” he said chuckling. “You ain’t gotta worry about that.”
But a few weeks later, Noble was back in the bank and he asked for Malisha specifically by name.
“Hi,” she’d said after closing her teller’s window and meeting him at the customer service desk. It wasn’t every day that a customer had a teller paged for service, but her supervisor was grinning and shucking like Noble was somebody important instead of a regular old traffic cop.
“Anybody at the desk could’ve helped you in the vault,” Malisha told him, even though she was flattered that he had specifically requested her. “All you need to do is sign in on the log, and we’ll get you the control key.”
Noble had grinned.
“I didn’t want just anybody. I wanted you.”
Malisha looked up into his strong, rugged face. That thing she’d felt the first time he smiled up at her was there again. But stronger this time. A whole lot stronger.
“What you want with me, Mr. Browne?”
“I want your number,” he said boldly. Then added, “And I wanna show you something too.”
Malisha had almost shit when they used their keys to open the box, and Noble stepped back to show her what was inside.
“What in the world is that?” she asked, stunned. Her mind just wouldn’t let her believe what her eyes were seeing right in front of her.
“It’s gold,” Noble whispered softly. He stared at it with mad respect, and Malisha almost felt like they were in church. “Gold bars. I collect them.”
Close ya damn mouth!
Malisha chastised herself for acting like she’d never seen money before. Of course she had. Tens of thousands of dollars passed through her hands every day, and at any given moment there was more than a million dollars sitting right inside their vault. She wasn’t pressed out at the sight of mega dollars. But mega gold was something else. She’d never really seen it in bar form before, and she damn sure didn’t know any men who were stacking it like this dude was.
She forced her eyes off the glittering metal.
“You’re a traffic officer, right?”
Noble nodded, then smiled.
“I’m wearing the uniform and carrying the badge, ain’t I?”
Malisha shrugged. “Yeah, you are. But I didn’t think traffic cops made that kind of money in New York. I must be working the wrong job.”
This time Noble shrugged. “Or maybe you’re just working it the wrong way. I’ve been investing in gold for a long, long time. If you hold on to anything of value long enough, your bottom line will go up.”
Malisha smirked. “Not in this crazy economy. I started buying bank stock four years ago when my son was born, and what I got back then for thirty-five dollars a share, is going for five dollars a share today.”
“Yep,” Noble agreed. “I know it looks bad right now, but that’s the flow of the economic cycle. I invest in stocks and bonds too. And if you hold on to them long enough they’ll eventually do better.”
“Yeah, okay.” Malisha was doubtful. The value of her little bit of stocks had damn near dried up. If she coulda got something decent for cashing them in, she woulda cashed those babies in a long time ago. “If you say so.”
“I tell you what,” Noble had offered. “How about I take you out to dinner and we can talk more about the market? I can give you a few tips about investing in gold that might make you a much better profit than what you’re getting on other commodities right now.”
Malisha shook her head.
“Nah, that’s okay. I’m straight.”
Nobled pressed her gently. “You said you have a son, right?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I do.”
“What’s his name?”
“Trey.”
“And he’s four? I love little kids. How about the three of us hang out together sometime and grab a bite to eat?”
Malisha sighed. She loved eating out. She remembered the days when her and Jamel used to hit plenty of nice restaurants. Jamel would always put Trey next to him in a high chair and feed his son right out of his plate. Those days, like most of Malisha’s other good days, were gone forever.
“Nah,” Malisha said, shaking her head. “For real. That’s okay. My son was disabled in an accident. He uses a wheelchair and it’s kinda hard for us to get around in my tiny car. I can usually only take him out a few times a week, and that’s for his music lessons. Other than that, we’re pretty much homebound.”
“That’s not a problem,” Noble said, then added smoothly, “I like kids and I like music too. I also have a nice-sized SUV. I can help you take Trey to his music lessons, if you let me. What do you say?”
With just a moment’s hesitation, Malisha said yes.
It was lunchtime, and Malisha was crossing the street to get to her car when out of nowhere a city bus ran the red light and started rolling through the intersection.
“Watch it!” she screamed, jumping back just in time. She glared at the driver, who she could have sworn had just had her eyes closed. She was a white chick with long blond hair, and she stomped on the brakes right after Malisha screamed.
“You need to obey the damn law!” Malisha yelled as the white girl mouthed, “I’m sorry!” and the bus moved on. Malisha was pissed. She knew all too well what could happen when stupid people made driving mistakes. “I’m the one who had the damn light!” she screamed as the bus continued down the street.
She watched the bus pull over to a crowded stop at the corner, and she was tempted to run over there and curse the white girl out for damn near clipping her, but Malisha’s anger turned into sorrow as she crossed the street and caught a glimpse of her white Ford Taurus.
“Oh, hell no. I know I don’t see what I think I see,” she whispered under her breath as she jetted farther down the block. She had timed herself, and there was no way her meter should have already expired.
Please no, please no, please no
... but when she got close enough to see what was up, she bust out in tears.
Another parking ticket was waving from her grimy windshield.
Why me?
Malisha screamed inside. She rushed over to the meter and saw that there was still two minutes left on it. How could she have gotten a ticket when the meter was still running? How the hell was she supposed to pay the twenty or so tickets she already had when she could barely afford to put quarters in the meter every day?
Malisha started stressing. She had already gotten a ton of notices about her unpaid parking tickets. She was about to be considered a scofflaw, and pretty soon these city fools were gonna put a damn boot on her tire. And how was she supposed to get to work for two weeks out of the month then?
After paying her restitution to the bank and putting a little bit down on all her other bills, she only had enough money left over for a week’s worth of Metro rides each payday. That meant, every other week she was broke and ass out. The only reason she was able to get to work on those off weeks at all was because Jamel’s friend Poppy worked at a gas station and he hooked her up with a few extra gallons on her nonpay weeks.
Malisha climbed in her car and put her head down on the steering wheel. She was ready to fall out from stress and exhaustion. She hadn’t been sleeping at night because every time she closed her eyes her mind either took her toward the horror of reliving the accident, her money problems, or the shame of getting caught stealing from her job.
If she had just gone home the usual way! If only she wasn’t in such a damn rush! In all that rain, why in the hell had she been driving so fast anyway?
Part of her wanted to get mad at Jamel for leaving her and Trey alone with no life insurance, but she forced herself to squash that noise in her head.
It’s your damn fault you have to raise Trey alone!
Malisha chastised herself.
Jamel wanted to be here! You had a damned good man!
And it was true too. Jamel might not have been able to leave them a phat insurance policy or nothing, but at least he had taken care of them while he was alive. Her husband had been a do-right man. The kind of black king who rode a big white horse and made sure his queen and his castle were protected every single day.
And Malisha really missed that. She missed having a man to hold her close and slay life’s dragons for her. She needed her a warrior. A battle buddy. A combat soldier who would just bust up in the joint and blast all her troubles away. Malisha need a man who could help her stop reliving the past and show her the way to a future. A man who could be a father to her son. She needed another do-right man who would get up and check on Trey in the middle of the night. Someone who would drive her baby to his music lessons and pay for them too.
A man like Noble Browne.
8
I
t was the last day of a long workweek when Noble looked up and saw a familiar face from his past. Friday afternoons were always the jump-off for his weekend. He had no problem putting in city work for five days straight, but his weekends were all about mentoring high-risk little boys and showing them how to become a good black man, or chilling with one of his honeys and showing her how she was supposed to be treated by a good black man.
Noble had a full weekend ahead of him, and he wasn’t gonna be neglecting nobody. Tonight it was gonna be all about sexy Kiki, and since tomorrow was Saturday, he’d promised to take Zsa baby to a merchandise fair down in the garment district, and later on in the day he was planning to take little Trey uptown to his Saturday music lessons, and then chill with Malisha for the rest of the night.
Standing in the middle of his grid, Noble mentally reviewed his game plan. His body was waving traffic through and nodding at pedestrians, but his mind was definitely on his three chicks. Noble was imagining the freaky lap dance he was sure to get from Kiki, when he spotted her: Sissy Tarver.
Fine ass, sweet-titty, gangsta booty, Sissy Tarver.
Sissy was a number one stunna. Tall, and lumped up in the front and in the back, she had caramel skin, hazel eyes, and long, thick hair.
The last time Noble had seen her he’d just lost his leg. Sissy had been working at the hospital and had recognized his name on a medical chart. Noble had been too doped up and out of it to really talk to her then, but looking at her now brought his adolescent years flooding back to his mind.
Noble and Sissy had gone to Thomas Jefferson High School together, which was located deep in the heart of Brooklyn. Back then, the student body had consisted mostly of rowdy kids from Brownsville and East New York, and over the years the rate of crime, dropouts, drug use, and assaults had soared sky high.
Noble had been one of those kids who managed to straddle the fence and ride the line in high school. He’d rolled hard with his manz and got down with multiple honeys, but he also got his work done in class and studied hard to get into college.
Back in those days Noble had been tall and good looking, but on the skinny side. He wasn’t a basketball star, or a standout on the football team or nothing hot like that, but he was chill and well-liked and smoove with his flow game. Popular with the girls, Noble had snuck his hands into his fair share of cookie jars. But the one chick that he’d really wanted—the chick that
every
swinging dick nig in the entire school wanted—had been way outta his reach.
And now, the sight of Sissy Tarver making her way across Noble’s intersection brought back all of those old horny-young-dog memories. Sissy had been the typical around-the-way girl. She’d lived next door to Noble’s favorite aunt in the projects of Brownsville, and as a young girl she had come up fast and loose.
Raised by her alky father, Sissy had a rep for giving it up hot and dirty. Dozens of nigs claimed to have gotten some of that, and dozens more were on a waiting list trying to get some.
Noble had been one of them dudes always waiting on the list.
Sissy was crazy-fine back then, and she had a way of moving her grown woman’s body that made the rest of the girls at Jeff look like preschoolers. Just like all the other young dicks, Noble had been bent on her. He’d spent hours fantasizing about banging her up against a locker, on the school staircase, or up under his fuckin’ bed, if he could.
The juicy sex Sissy was rumored to lay down on a niggah was exactly the kind of freaky shit that Noble’s sixteen-year-old hormones were raging for. But between the star athletes and the corner thugs, Sissy’s shit had stayed locked up. A regular dude like Noble couldn’t even get close to her, because Sissy was a choice piece of ass, and only ballers with high status or mad doe to spend were invited to step up in her grill.
It was during their senior year that Sissy had fallen off. First her father had died, and her uncle moved in to take over the apartment, and then Sissy upped and dropped outta school with only six months left to go. Word on the ave was that she was pregnant by a local drug dealer, and not too much after that Sissy got knocked by the blue boys and sent upstate for transporting drug money for her baby’s daddy.
But Sissy’s life troubles didn’t cast no shade on Noble’s game. He’d graduated from Jeff, and gone on to college and forgotten all about Sissy. At Morehouse there had been plenty of chicks with banging bodies just like hers, and Noble had slapped bellies with as many of them as he could.
It was sometime later when Noble’s aunt told him that Sissy had served a two-year stint in prison before her lawyer got her out on some kind of technicality. But even though Sissy had come home to the projects and started getting her shit together, the daughter she’d had while in prison had already been placed in the foster system and was lost to her.
And now, watching Sissy Tarver move toward him stoked up some real old feelings in Noble’s gut. She still looked good, and she still moved her body the same way, but after more than ten years her lumped up parts were more like puffed up now. She was in no way fat, but she wasn’t high-school tight, neither. All that long curly hair that used to catch Noble’s eye was gone too. She had a shoulder-length cut that was a’ight, but it didn’t even come close to looking as sleek and glamorous as Noble remembered it.
“Noble Browne!” Sissy yelled, waving as soon as she peeped him.
Noble stepped out of the grid and met her on the corner.
“S’up, Sissy,” he said, leaning over to give her a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you again.”
“Nah,” she grinned, flashing that cute dimple that used to drive boys like Noble wild. “It’s good to see
you
. So you’re up on your feet and back at work, huh? It was crazy hearing that you’d got shot. I came by your hospital room one day but you were asleep. The next time I came back, you were gone. Discharged to a rehab facility, somebody said.”
She held her arms out and looked Noble up and down appreciatively. “It looks like whatever therapy they did for you in there really worked.”
Noble grinned and nodded. “Yeah, the rehab was pretty tough, but I made it through. I’m just glad to have a job and be back in the swing of things.”
Sissy nodded. “Oh, I knew you’d be up and at it in record time. You were one of those real determined dudes when we were growing up, Noble. Always pushing and striving. I wish I had been more like you back then.”
“Hey, it’s all about finding a way to pull ourselves up when we get down,” Noble said, then smiled real bright. “And it looks like you did that for yourself, Sissy. You still wearing scrubs, so that means you’re still working at the hospital, huh?”
She nodded. “Yep. I passed my boards, and now I’m officially a nurse. I just landed a job at the hospital up the street, and it’s good to be working and filling in wherever I’m needed.”
It was Noble’s turn to nod. “Cool. That’s what’s up. You seen my aunt Cathy lately?”
“I see her every day,” Sissy said. “She’s been real sick over the past few months, so I try to get over there early in the morning, and then I usually call her at night to check on her.”
“You still living in the apartment next door to her?”
“Yep. I sure am. With my uncle. You should swing through and see her sometime. She’s always talking about you. I know it would mean a lot to her.”
“I’ma do that,” Noble said firmly. His aunt had been one of his biggest cheerleaders when he was a kid. She was a constant in his life, and even though she was sick and couldn’t get around too tough anymore, when he got shot she’d sent his favorite homemade sweet potato pie to the hospital to cheer him up.
“Yeah,” he repeated. “I’ma do that.”
Noble was shamed to learn that Sissy had been spending time and taking care of bizz with his fam, yet he hadn’t even remembered to drop his Aunt Cathy a phone call.
A car horn beeped and Noble glanced toward his intersection, and then kissed Sissy’s cheek again and told her good-bye. The sight of her had just thrown a curve ball in his weekend plans, and a couple of his honeys might have to get bounced around a little bit on the schedule.
“I’ma swing by this weekend,” he called over his shoulder and assured Sissy as he headed toward his grid box. He watched her hips sway down the block. “Yeah. I’ma definitely do that.”