Dollar Bill (25 page)

“Nice place you got here,” Hennessey said to Dollar as she walked in his apartment dressed in a navy blue business suit with her butterscotch Coach briefcase in hand.

“Thank you, Miss Lady,” Dollar replied. “This nice little place costs as much as a mansion it seems. It sucks up my entire paycheck, not to mention the extra fee for parking that's tacked onto my rent.”

“What exactly do you do, your job?” Hennessey asked.

“Construction, pretty much,” Dollar replied.

Hennessey couldn't help but giggle. “Construction, huh?” Hennessey said, twitching up her lips.

“No, I'm serious. I really do construction. I got the work boots to prove it.”

“Construction,” Hennessey said, walking over to Dollar and grabbing hold of his hand. “With nails like these?”

“I wear gloves.” He slid his hand away from hers. “You wanna see those, too?”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“Hey, I'm a hardworking brotha. Otherwise, I'd be spending more time with you. Not just talking on the phone like we usually do.”

“I like talking to you on the phone,” Hennessey said. “Besides, you know my job is always sending me out of town to seminars and stuff.”

“And I like talking to you too, but I like seeing you in person more.”

“Talking to you on the phone up until the wee hours of the night makes me feel like I'm in high school again,” Hennessey said, reminiscing back to those days.

Being hypnotized by the scent of a woman, Dollar lifted Hennessey's hand to his lips and planted a kiss on it. He then proceeded to kiss up her arm until he made his way to her lips. Dollar planted three soft kisses on her lips. Hennessey responded with a deep French kiss. The two kissed for what seemed like an eternity. Dollar ran his hands down Hennessey's back until he reached her bottom. He then squeezed as if she were a package of Charmin.

Hennessey could feel Dollar's nature rising against her as he held her close. She had to remember that she was there on business, strictly business. She pulled Dollar's hands from off of her butt and pushed away from him.

“Let me grab the portfolios that Mr. Alleghany worked up for you,” Hennessey said as she pulled some folders out of her briefcase. “He apologizes for having to cancel his appointment with you that was scheduled for this morning, but his little girl took ill.”

“Oh, no problem,” Dollar said. “I'd much rather go over it with you anyway.” That was the truth, well, the half-truth anyway. Dollar would rather not go over the portfolio at all, but if he had to, he'd much rather do it with Hennessey.

Dollar couldn't have cared less about some financial portfolio. When his personal banker had called him up yesterday to even make the appointment to go over the portfolio, Dollar didn't want to waste his time—Mr. Alleghany's or his own. But then he realized that going into the bank for a meeting meant he'd probably get to see Hennessey too, so he made the appointment. When Mr. Alleghany called early this morning to reschedule, Dollar told him he had a pretty tight schedule for the week and only had today open, which he followed up by asking since Hennessey was the one who referred Dollar to him in the first place, if he could just meet with her instead. Ask and you shall receive.

“We have all night to look at those,” Dollar said regarding the portfolio, walking up behind Hennessey, pressing himself against her and kissing her on her neck.

It was going to be hard for Hennessey not to fall into lust with Dollar. She had to admit it, he was the finest man she had ever worked with. But business was business and even though it was after work hours, this was supposed to be a business call. After allowing herself to get a little creamy in her panties from the kisses to the tender spot on her neck, Hennessey pulled away from Dollar.

“Well, I really don't have all night and Mr. Alleghany said you seemed very serious on the phone about wanting to make some long term investments to provide for a secure future.”

“I am serious, but damn, you got a nigga all hot and bothered.”

“Come on, Dollar. I'm serious. I'm sure there are some interesting business opportunities. You have no idea how much I'm going out of my way here. I really want to help you. I really do. Let me help you.”

Hennessey's sudden sincerity showed Dollar that she was all business. She spoke with such passion. Dollar excused himself and went into the bathroom and handled his business. There wasn't any need in letting a woody go to waste.

As Dollar cleaned himself up in the bathroom, he asked himself over and over why he thought for one minute Hennessey was going to give him any. “I told myself I wasn't going to let these broads fuck up my head,” Dollar said to himself as he straightened himself out in the mirror, and then headed out of the bathroom to rejoin his guest.

For the next hour or so, Hennessey followed Mr. Alleghany's notes and schooled Dollar on some high-risk investments that could either earn him ten times his money or put him in the poorhouse. That would be the risk he would have to take. Big risks always came along with big money. CDs and bonds didn't interest Dollar. The payoff wasn't worth the wait.

When Dollar realized that he only had $29,000 in his safe, he panicked. He told himself that he was going to live modest, but those “must-have” materialistic possessions had gotten the best of him. Lack of money to Dollar was what lack of crack was to a fiend. It made him nervous and jittery. It also made him anxious. He needed to flip his money. He was willing to take the high-risk investments Hennessey was suggesting to him. He was willing to risk every dime he had. But doing so meant he had to make a big move to back his shit up. If he was going to put all of his eggs in one basket and turn them over to Hennessey's bank in hopes of becoming a rich man, he needed to keep a golden egg for himself.

As Dollar listened to Hennessey go on and on about the type of investments her bank had made for people and how their investments had paid off, he realized that a bank mans a lot of money for a lot of people. When a person wants candy, where do they go? They go to a candy store. So when a person wants money, where do they go?

By now Dollar wasn't paying much attention to Hennessey's words. Dollar was fixated on candy: green candy with dead presidents on them. She finally wrapped things up and got Dollar's signature to move forward with the suggested investments.

Dollar offered her a nightcap, which she accepted.

Of course Dollar tried making moves on Hennessey, but she refused his advances by stating that she just wanted to cuddle. The two sat sipping on Alizé and watching television.

“So what do you want with me?” Dollar couldn't help but ask Hennessey.

“Excuse me?” Hennessey replied.

“I mean, look, I'm just a regular guy. I don't have much to offer,” Dollar said.

“I don't want much,” Hennessey replied. “Besides, I just like being with you. You're a good guy, Dollar.”

“Ahmmm,” Dollar laughed in an “if only you knew” sort of tone.

“You don't think you're a good guy?” Hennessey asked, taking a sip from her glass of Alizé. “Then tell me, what are you?”

“I'm just a man, you know,” Dollar said, looking down at his glass of Alizé. “I mean, an everyday brotha out here trying to make it.”

“Trying to make it how?” Hennessey began digging.

The door was opening for Dollar to be able to tell Hennessey about the man he really was. How he had spent time in jail. But that would only make her skeptical of him, maybe even drive her away. Dollar didn't want that. But what kind of future could they possibly have together? It would only be a matter of time before Hennessey found him out. Dollar couldn't see her wanting to have anything to do with a man who robbed people for a living. It wasn't as if robbing folks was something he was going to do for the rest of his life. He just needed to hit the jackpot and then everything would be good.

Dollar looked over at Hennessey's French manicured nails and sparkling tennis bracelet and knew that she would never give the real Dollar Bill the time of day. So on that note, Dollar figured if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Telling Hennessey his business was futile at that point. There was still plenty of time for their relationship to move forward. By then, robbery would be a thing of the past for Dollar.

As Dollar looked at Hennessey, he was convinced, now more than ever, that perhaps it was time for a change. Dollar wanted to get closer to Hennessey. It was hard to be real and open with her knowing that there was a side to him that he couldn't share with her, and telling her the truth about him wasn't the way to do it. He would just have to keep her at bay until he got his life straight.

“It's getting late,” Dollar said, looking down at his watch. “Don't you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yes, I do,” Hennessey said, setting her glass down on the living room table and standing up. “Besides, I know when I'm being told to go home.”

“You don't have to go home, but you have to get the hell up out of here.” Dollar laughed as he stood up with Hennessey.

Dollar walked Hennessey down to her car and made sure she was safe and sound inside. “Thanks for walking me down,” Hennessey said, rolling down the window to her money green convertible Saab.

“Anytime,” Dollar replied as he turned away and headed back up to his apartment.

“Dollar,” Hennessey yelled, stopping Dollar in his tracks. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I'm kinda diggin' you.” Hennessey blushed.

“Oh yeah?” Dollar smiled. “Well, I'm kinda diggin' you too.”

Hennessey smiled, blew Dollar a kiss, and then drove off. This time Dollar did catch it, and placed it on his lips. “Now her right there,” Dollar said to himself. “She could have my baby. That's baby mama material if I ever saw it.”

As Dollar walked back up to his apartment, all he could envision was Hennessey's smile. It warmed him. It comforted him the same way his mother's smile used to comfort him.

Dollar returned to his apartment. By that time it was after eleven and the evening news was on. Dollar walked over to the television to turn it off so that he could get ready for bed. Just then he heard the words from the anchorwoman.

“And now let's go to Barb McNeil for news around the country,” the anchorwoman said.

“Hello, I'm Barb McNeil and I'm outside of Orient Prison in Orient, Ohio, where convicted felon Ramelle Blake has spent the last seventeen years of his life. Well as you know, after years of investigations, the State of Ohio found evidence that confirmed that Blake is, in fact, the Midwest Serial Killer. In less than forty-five minutes, Blake will be transferred to Mansfield Correctional Facility where death row awaits him.

“As you can see behind me, there are many protesters who oppose the death penalty out here on Blake's behalf. No appeal has been filed nor is one expected to be filed; therefore, no last-minute stay is expected to be granted. Both family members of the victims and supporters have signed a petition requesting that Blake be put to death as early as next month. If they have it their way, Blake will be transported from MCF to Lucasville Correctional Institution where he will be put to death via lethal injection. The mother of one of the victims said that the families have been living in hell for years not knowing who was responsible for the deaths of their daughters. Now that the murderer's identity is known, it would be punishing the families even more if the state forces them, via use of their tax dollars, to keep this monster alive any longer. The same mother also stated that she's going to go out and buy a new dress to wear when she's escorted into the prison to witness Blake's death.”

Dollar turned the television off and headed toward his bedroom as he mumbled, “See you in hell, old man.”

As Dollar prepared for bed, a few thoughts ran through his mind. Dollar knew that going back to work for Redd was out of the question. He didn't want to be on pins and needles waiting for the drama to erupt, not with Redd, but with Kera herself. This was all the more reason why Dollar needed to make something happen. Did he think his big break was going to show up on his doorstep one day? Hell no. He had to go out and just do the damn thang. He couldn't go back to work for Redd, and he wouldn't even consider working for some fast food joint. That was out of the question. It was time to make that move. Forget these punk-ass stickups. Dollar needed to make a big move.

After hours of contemplation and running game plans through his head, Dollar phoned Tommy and Ral to meet up with him. It was time to share his master plan with them.

 

 

“You want to rob a fuckin' bank?” Tommy asked Dollar as she squeezed the lemon slice into her ice water.

“Shhhh,” Dollar said. “You tryin' to tell the whole fucking world?”

“You've lost your damn mind,” Tommy said. “We can't rob no bank.”

“Why not?” Ral asked. “A stickup is a stickup.”

“You two muthafuckas ain't got nothing to lose,” Tommy said. “I got two; two very important things.”

“I'm so goddamn tired of you using them two girls as your excuse to be soft,” Dollar said as he pounded his fist on the picnic table at the DQ. “I'm sorry, T, but it's time you start using them two girls as an excuse to raise up out of this town. What about that bookstore you be talking about? Niggaz in Gary don't read. What you gon' do, open it up next door to Jimmy's Coney Island?”

Dollar always had a way of breaking Tommy down, talking her into doing something. There was one time when they were kids and Dollar convinced Tommy that she could fly if she swung high enough on the park swings and jumped off. Her arm was in a cast for almost two months.