New York to check on the construction crew.
“Ready to get to work?” Marvin asked, and winked at Trae.
“I’m always ready to work,” Trae said.
Tasha shot him a look that said, “Nigga, I know you don’t think you going out tonight!” And she caught Marvin’s wink.
Stephon read her expression. “Y’all married niggas got too many restrictions for me. Can’t go there, can’t say this, and can’t
say that! Y’all can’t do shit.”
“Nigga, I’m the king of my castle. Tasha knows what it is. You see, she only
looked
all crazy but ain’t say shit. Give me a minute,” Trae told him.
Tasha rolled her eyes at Trae and left them in the living room. In the blink of an eye Trae went upstairs, changed clothes
and was out the door with Marvin and Stephon. They jumped into Stephon’s burgundy Escalade and were headed out of the driveway.
“Ain’t that some shit,” Tasha snapped. “Nigga ain’t been home for an hour and already he’s gone,” she said to Marva.
“Chile, please. You know what kind of man you got. And if you don’t get it out of your mind that Trae is going to settle down
as if he has a nine to five and is no longer in the streets, you are going to be in for a rude awakening,” Marva told her.
“All the business in the world won’t satisfy his craving for the streets. It’s in his blood. He is his father’s son. A born
street nigga.” Marva didn’t give Tasha time to respond. She got up and left out of the family room.
“Yo, where we going? This ain’t the way to our club,” Trae yelled over the Styles P lyrics Stephon was blasting.
“I know. We got something special planned for you.” Stephon flashed him a devilish grin.
Trae looked over at Marvin, who simply shrugged his shoulders.
“Nigga, don’t act like you ignorant,” Trae told him.
“Trae, for once, I want you to just chill out and go with the flow. Can you do that for me, man? You ain’t kicked it with
the fellas in a minute. What’s up with that?” Marvin tried to ask with a straight face.
Trae smiled. “Chill out? What the fuck you think I’ve been doing? You know. I’ve been doing the family thing.”
“We know. That’s why we hookin’ you up, dawg,” Marvin said. “Shit, you got the keys to the club; you can see that anytime.”
Trae sat back, cracked his window and marveled at the Los Angeles sky. Marvin passed him a blunt as Stephon navigated through
traffic while talking on his cell. About forty minutes later they pulled up into a club called Spinners that was in the cut.
“Trae, tonight is your night. Anything you want is on the house. This is my treat.” Stephon threw the Escalade in park and
jumped out with Marvin right on his heels.
“This is what y’all niggas be doing when I’m not around? Hanging at seedy-ass strip clubs?” Trae shook his head in mock disappointment.
“Man, don’t hate. But at the same time don’t let the raggedy outside fool you. Now get yo’ doing-the-family-thing ass out
of the car,” Stephon barked.
“Steph, don’t let this nigga spin you. He’s only puttin’ on an act. Just in case you wanna run back and tell Tasha on him.
This nigga is down for whatever.” Marvin put Trae on blast. The three of them walked up the rickety stairs.
“Damn. Y’all couldn’t take me to a better place than this?” Trae cracked.
“Nigga, I asked yo ass to chill out,” Marvin said as he knocked on the door.
A small Cuban man opened the door, looked at the three of them and moved to the side. Stephon placed a few bills in his hand
and kept walking to another set of winding stairs that were carpeted and led them to a steel door. Stephon pressed the buzzer
three times and the steel popped open.
A half smile appeared on Trae’s face as they stepped into the colorful club and he saw so many beautiful women. There were
dark ones, light ones, Asian ones, Indian ones, Latina women, white women.
“Damn, y’all. I take back what I