Maybe Amelia is right; maybe I should just ask her for it.

Rik hurried into the restaurant, closing his umbrella at the door. The weather outside was beyond dreadful. Rain fell from the sky like a monsoon. Rik took off his raincoat, folded it over his arm, and walked to the maître d’.

“Table for one, sir?” she asked.

“No, I’m with the Santero party.”

“Oh, he’s already here. I just showed him in a minute ago.”

The hostess grabbed a menu and started for the table. “Follow me, please, and I’ll show you to your table.”

She led Rik to the table where his dinner guest was waiting.

“Rik, what’s happening, my man?” Tony rose and embraced him tightly. “Here, have a seat.”

Rik took the seat across from Tony.

“Have the waitress bring us a bottle of your finest wine, please,” Tony told the maître d’. He waited until she departed and then took his seat again. “Rik, my man, how are you?”

Rik shook his head. “Not good, Tony. Not too good.”

Tony waved him off. “We’ll make it all better, my man.”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry. Just wait until you hear the proposal we have for you.”

The waitress arrived with the wine and two glasses. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

“What would you like to eat, Rik?” Tony asked.

Rik shrugged. “Um, let me do the filet, medium well, butterfly cut, with the creamed spinach and mashed potatoes. And, also, let me get a Caesar salad to start.”

“And for you, sir?” the waitress asked Tony.

“You know what, I’ll have the filet well done, butterfly cut, but Oscar that with a side of the sweet potato casserole, please. And I’ll take a Caesar salad also.”

“Very well, sir.” The waitress nodded, removed the menus from the table, and disappeared.

“Here is what we have in mind,” Tony continued. “Twenty keys a week. We front you half, you pay for the other half up front. You don’t have to pay for the front until the following week when we drop you off another ten.”

“Damn. That’s sweet.”

Tony smiled. “I told you we’d take good care of you.”

“Good, because I’ma need a little help.”

Tony lifted an eyebrow. “What kinda help?”

“I’ma need an extension on what I owe you.”

Tony recoiled. “An extension? What kinda extension?”

“Well, really, I was hoping that you could spot me some dope, and let me work off what I owe you.”

“Work off what you owe us? Are you telling me that you don’t have the money, Rik?”

“I got busted, Tony. You already know this. The cops hit my stash house and found the shit.”

Tony looked down and shook his head gravely. “That’s not our problem, Rik. You know how we operate.”

“Man, that shit was beyond my control. I got busted. Man, c’mon.”

“Rik, I know the way my uncle thinks. His first question is going to be, if the cops found the dope, then why are you out on the streets? That’s a question that you don’t want him to ask. Because he’s not going to understand all of the legal technicalities involved. The first thing that is going to come to his mind is that you’ve rolled over. And that would be something that would be very bad for you.”

“I didn’t roll over; you know that. I would never do nothing like that. They threw the case out because the snitch turned up dead.”

“But you’re saying that they found the dope.”

“Yeah, in a house rented under a fake name. They couldn’t trace it back to me; they just knew that me and the homeboys met there sometimes. That’s what got the house raided. But they couldn’t put the dope on any specific individual.”

Tony smiled. “Rik, my uncle’s old school. He ain’t gonna understand all of that legal mumbo jumbo bullshit. He’s gonna want his money, or he’s gonna want you in prison because of that dope, or he’s gonna want you dead.”

“Man, I’m not trying to fuck over anybody. I just need more time, and some more work to get it all back to you.”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re asking for more work, without paying us for the work we’ve already given you. After you’re telling us that you got busted with that previous work, but you’re still out on the streets. Do you hear this shit?”

“You know it’s true.”

“Rik, we are men, aren’t we? Let’s talk like men. Because there is much truth that you speak, and I believe you, Rik. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be sitting here. But this is the problem, Rik. Quadir fronted you a lot of product before he was killed. Do you remember that?”

Rik thought quietly for a moment, knowing exactly where Tony was going with his conversation.

“And for what I know, Quadir passed to you at least two hundred keys, my friend, at least that much, maybe more. And you paid little to nothing back. Quadir died and you walked with all that coke and all that money. Rik, now you have nothing. Wow, my friend, you had it all. You had it all.” Tony exhaled and shook his head. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to pretend like we never had this conversation. I’m going to pretend like I haven’t gotten around to picking up the money that you owe us. I’m going to stall, and try to buy you a little time. In the meantime, I suggest you do whatever the hell it is that you need to do to come up with that money. My uncle is not going to understand. If I can’t collect from you after a certain period of time, he’s going to send a fucking hit squad over to wipe the streets up with your ass; it’s nothing personal, just business. Get the money.”

Tony rose, pulled out a wad of money, and threw several hundred-dollar bills onto the table. “Enjoy the meal. Then go home and get some rest. You look like shit.”

Rik lowered his head into his palms as Tony disappeared.

He knew that he had to come up with the money, and he knew that Tony was serious about what his uncle would do if he didn’t. He just needed time. A little bit of time, and a little bit of dope to work. He could hit the streets and make miracles happen, if only he had a little bit to work with.

Rik scratched his head. Truth be told, he didn’t know how much time he had. I wonder how long Tony can stall his uncle. Even if I had some coke, I might not have the time I need to flip it. No, I definitely need to pay Tony. But how? I need some major coins to build my stash back up and get the Santeros off my ass. Rik knew that he would have to dust off his pistol and jack someone. Damn, who’s holding these days that I might stick? Most ballers like that had an entourage and bodyguards. And none of them would let him borrow that kind of dough. Hold up; wait a minute. A light suddenly went off in his brain. Actually, he did know someone who would let him borrow that kind of dough. She had offered it to him once before. There was no doubt that she would offer it again. Gena; she’s holdin’ all Quadir’s loot. She’s the one, the missing piece to my puzzle.

Rik sat back and smiled as the waitress delivered his meal. Everything was going to be all right. He knew exactly where to get the money from to get those fucking Barranquilla Colombians off his back. The only question was how he would get it. Should I just ask her or should I just jack her?