Dollar Bill (21 page)

After a couple days of cooling off from her awful experience with Kube, Tommy put her high-heeled boots back on and hit the grind. She also handled her business with stickin' up Mr. Owens. She and Ral pulled off the robbery with ease. There was a good chance he would have recognized Dollar had he participated.

They caught Mr. Owens first thing in the morning, 6:00 a.m., as he was getting ready to pull out of his driveway for work. Dollar had been to Mr. Owens's house before and had given Tommy and Ral directions on how to get there. It just so happened that Mr. Owens was making a bank deposit that day and had an extra few grand on him, which made the total stickup worth $13,000.

Dollar took his share, purchased some odds and ends for his place, and tightened up his wardrobe. He invested in a fourteen-karat gold Figaro necklace and bracelet set. He wasn't trying to mess with that platinum jewelry that just drew attention to him.

It hadn't taken Dollar long at all since his release from jail to get a nice place to rest his head, a nice li'l ride, and a nice li'l wardrobe. He had a couple of options on pussy and he looked good as hell. On top of all that, he had a legit job so Uncle Sam couldn't fuck with him.

Dollar kept a nice little bank account, but he kept his real loot in a safe at his apartment. He made it a habit to always deposit one half of the money he made working at Redd's into his bank account. He didn't deposit the money from his mother's life insurance policy. This way he could always say that any purchases he made were made with that money.

At this point, Dollar felt all he needed was one big hit. Redd had been talking to him about some investments he'd made that damn near quadrupled his money, and Dollar was looking to do the same. With the money he earned from his investments, he wouldn't mind opening up a spot similar to Redd's. Maybe he could open up a barbershop/massage parlor or something. Dollar didn't know what he was going to set up for himself, but he knew that he had to do something. All good things came to an end and he wanted to be the one to put an end to them; not the police and not some jealous thug. He would live the good life, but on his own terms.

 

 

The line at the bank was long and Dollar was becoming agitated. There were two security guards on duty. One in particular, who was standing at the bank entrance right underneath the surveillance camera, kept eyeballin' Dollar. The security guard didn't try to hide his suspicions, as he never once turned his eyes away from Dollar, even when Dollar decided to stare back at him. Dollar wanted to go over there and whoop his ass. After all, security was standing underneath the camera, so the assault wouldn't get caught on tape.

Dollar should have known better anyway than to go to the bank at lunchtime on a Friday afternoon. There were only five more people ahead of him out of the eleven that were initially standing in front of him. Although Dollar had already been waiting a half hour in that line, he didn't think he could stand to wait much longer. Just as he decided to pull out of line someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“I didn't mean for you to have to stand in line. You can come back to my desk now,” a voice said to Dollar.

He turned around and to his surprise standing there was Hennessey.

“Huh? What?” This was the third time she just happened to pop up. In Dollar's mind, this was clearly no coincidence, this was fate. This was a sign that he was indeed supposed to hook up with this chick and the gods were on his side. He'd let her slip through his fingers the first two times, with not so much as getting her phone number. He was getting yet another chance, which would probably be his last. Hopefully the third time really was a charm.

“I said, you don't have to wait in line again. Come on back.” She winked and began walking toward the back office area. “Right this way,” Hennessey said, signaling with her hand for Dollar to follow.

Dollar smiled and followed Hennessey back to a cozy little office where she offered him a seat.

“I didn't know you worked here,” Dollar said. “I've never seen you here before.”

“That's because you've never looked into investing in your retirement,” Hennessey said. “That's what I do here; make sure people are taken care of when they're old and gray.”

“I'm anything but that,” Dollar said with conceit, which lightweight turned Hennessey off, evident by the corners of her mouth slightly turning downward.

“What can I help you with today, Mr. Blake?” Hennessey asked Dollar.

“A deposit . . .” His words trailed off as curiosity took over his thoughts. “How did you know my last name?” Dollar asked. He was almost certain he'd only given her his first name, and not even that, but his nickname.

Hennessey's eyes went left, right, then downward. “Well, it's not that hard to read upside down, you know,” Hennessey said, referring to the personalized, preprinted pink deposit slip Dollar had in his hand. “I can make that deposit for you.”

“How do I know you're not going to run off with all of my money?” Dollar joked.

“You don't know, do you? I guess you'll just have to trust me,” Hennessey said, holding her hand out to take Dollar's deposit.

Dollar stuck his hand out to give Hennessey his deposit, but instead he grabbed her by the arm. “Fuck the deposit,” Dollar said, looking into Hennessey's eyes. “Let me take this money and spend it all on you.”

Hennessey couldn't help but laugh as she took the deposit out of Dollar's hand with her loose hand. “That's quite all right, Mr. Blake,” she said as she proceeded to log the deposit into her computer.

Dollar watched her pounding away at the keyboard, thinking all the while what he wouldn't do to get with her fine self. She was playing hard to get, but he could tell that she wanted him. But what could she possibly want him for?”

Dollar second-guessed himself. What did he have to offer her? He wasn't exactly company Christmas party material.
Hello, I'm Dollar. I do construction for a living and, oh yeah, on the side I rob people.
Dollar laughed to himself.

“Something funny?” Hennessey asked.

“It's funny why you won't go out with me,” Dollar answered. “Come on, just dinner.”

“Nah,” Hennessey said. “You look like the type who might feel as though I'd owe you something afterward. Being in debt is not my thing.”

“Naw, Miss Lady. It ain't even like that. It will be kinda like me returning the favor of you rescuing me from that long-ass line out there.”

Hennessey proceeded to log in Dollar's deposit and hand-write him a receipt. “Here you go, Mr. Blake,” she said, slightly smiling and blinking almost in slow motion.

“Thank you,” Dollar said. “But anyway, that was good looking out, not making me stand in that line.”

“It wasn't a problem,” Hennessey said. “I'm glad I could be of some assistance. But waiting on customers in line really isn't my job.”

“That's right; you're an investor.”

“Yeah, but my official title around here is personal banker.”

“Personal banker, huh? So what all does the word
personal
include? Perhaps I'm in need of a personal banker.”

“Perhaps you are, so it would be my pleasure to assign your account to one of my colleagues.”

Dollar's face twisted up. Had old girl just put him off on someone else? “What's wrong with you being my personal banker?”

“Ummm, I think it's better that we don't get too
personal.
You know what I mean?” Hennessy winked and started typing away at her computer.

Dollar stood before her not knowing what his next move should be. He wasn't used to waiting around for a woman to say something to him. What was it with her? Dollar was going to make it his mission to find out.

“There we go.” Hennessey punched a final key on her computer then looked up at Dollar. “Someone will be in touch.” She smiled.

Dollar smiled.

Awkward silence.

“Can you find your way back out?” Hennessey asked Dollar.

And now she had the nerve to dismiss him just like that. This was a first for Dollar for real.

“Oh yeah, yeah,” Dollar said. “I see you're busy, and this isn't really your job,” he mimicked, “so yeah, I'll just go ahead and find my way back out.”

“All right then,” Hennessey said as she went back to typing something on her computer. “Oh, and, Mr. Blake?”

“Yeah,” Dollar said, stopping in his tracks.
I knew she couldn't resist me.
He had a huge grin on his face.

“Can you close the door behind you?”

“Uhh, sure. And thanks again.”

“Anytime,” Hennessey said as Dollar walked out of her office and closed the door behind him, his tail dragging between his legs.

He shook his head. “Damn, I can't believe I froze up,” Dollar said as he looked down at his deposit receipt. Just then his eyes lit up. Underneath his deposit verification was a note that read:

A huge grin of victory spread across Dollar's face. He guessed Hennessey wanted to get personal after all.

 

It wasn't as chilly as it had been the past few nights as the cold season was coming to an end, so Dollar sported his Fonzie, from the old
Happy Days
sitcom, leather jacket over his V-neck, long-sleeved ribbed sweater and Hard Knock Life Wear jeans. He couldn't wait to meet up with Hennessey at her place.

Dollar wasn't sure exactly how to get to Hennessey's address, so he left his house a few minutes earlier than he had originally planned. He only had to stop and ask for directions one time when he saw that there was a chance that he might be late. Hennessey didn't seem like the kind of chick who would wait around on a late-ass nigga. She was the type that kept a brother in check, on his toes. Perhaps she was exactly what Dollar needed in his life.

Hennessey was smooth like the cognac she was named after, but Dollar knew her chaser was bitch mode. Her words were fly, as if they were rehearsed. This is one of the things that attracted Dollar to her.

When Dollar finally turned onto Lake Wave Loop, he saw that the scenery wasn't residential at all. There were hotels, cafés, and drug stores. Dollar followed the numbers carefully until he found 1777. It appeared to be a lovely, high-class hotel.

“That's what I'm talking about,” Dollar said out loud as he searched for a parking space. As he drove by the hotel he realized that it had valet parking. He turned his car around, drove up to the hotel door, and utilized the valet services.

Dollar walked into the hotel and headed straight toward the registration desk to find out what room number Hennessey was in, prayerfully waiting for him buck naked.

“May I help you, sir?” the clerk asked Dollar.

“Yes, can you phone Miss Hennessey Monroe's room and let her know that Mr. Blake has arrived?” Dollar replied.

The clerk punched a few keys on her computer before saying, “I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have a Hennessey Monroe checked into this hotel.”

“Well, there must be a mistake. I'm sure she's here.”

“There's no mistake,” a voice crept up on Dollar from behind.

Dollar turned around to see Hennessey standing in a black floor-length halter gown with a split in the front that almost played peek-a-boo with her kitty cat.

“You look good,” Dollar said to Hennessey, turning away from the desk and walking toward his beautiful date.

“Thank you,” Hennessey replied. “You're lookin' fine.” Hennessey circled Dollar like he was her prey, nodding her fondness of the fineness before her. Hennessey licked her lips and winked. “I hope I don't have to come out the heels tonight and beat down nobody over you.”

“Would you do that for me, baby?”

“Umm hmm.” Hennessey smiled.

Hennessey had a smile that humbled even a hardheaded dude like Dollar instantly. The contour of her lips allowed for just enough of her beautiful white teeth to show. She had a memorable smile, like Laci Peterson, the woman whose smile was plastered on every news channel and newspaper when her husband was accused of murdering her and her unborn child.

Dollar stood before Hennessey, mesmerized by her smile. The two stood there looking each other up and down. Hennessey especially admired Dollar's chest muscles peeking up out of the V on his sweater. She could have stood there and counted every chest hair if time had permitted.

“We should head to the hotel restaurant,” Hennessey said. “We have reservations, so we don't want to be late.”

Dollar followed Hennessey over to the restaurant where the hostess led them to a quaint table for two.

Dollar slightly nudged the hostess, who was about to pull Hennessey's chair out for her, and pulled it out himself. He then removed the little black evening bag she was carrying from her shoulder and placed it on the back of her chair by its gold chain strap.

“Thank you,” Hennessey said, surprised at Dollar's manners.

“It's my pleasure, Miss Lady,” Dollar replied.

The hostess presented them with menus and said, “Take as much time as you need to look over the menus. Your waiter will be right with you.”

As the hostess began to walk away, Dollar stopped her. “May we see the wine menu?” Dollar asked.

“Certainly,” the hostess said. “I'll bring one right over.”