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“If you want to talk figures, I’m listening,” Angelle said. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Frankie sat forward in his seat.

Gillian cleared her throat. It seemed to her that her brother’s and Frankie’s familiarity with Angelle was clouding their better judgment. In her opinion, they shouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation at all. “We shouldn’t talk figures until you make sure you can get the product directly from the brother-in-law. Just because he wants to hit it, doesn’t mean he’s willing to risk going to jail to do that.”

“He’ll do it.” Angelle seemed surer now.

“Then go for it. If you feel like using sex to get it, go for it. But that’s your investment. Not ours. There’s no bonus for giving up ass. That’s just part of
your
hustle.”

Gillian heard Angelle suck her teeth softly, but she ignored it. “By dealing with him one on one, you should be able to increase everything that you’re supplying us with. If he’ll do it, come back to us with figures. That’s when we’ll talk numbers. Not the other way around.” Gillian rose to leave and Frankie followed suit. She extended her hand limply to Angelle, and smiled. “It was nice to meet you, Angelle. I’ll follow up with you in a few days.”

Angelle’s smile was vague, her attitude clearly conveyed despite it. “Great.”

As they left, Frankie looked at Gillian questioningly. It was obvious that the two women didn’t like each other. And Gillian had ended the meeting so abruptly that he was completely confused. Frankie got into the Escalade and looked at her again.

“You shut her down,” he observed. “What was that all about?”

She smirked. “I just want to keep it professional. I can see that she’s your friend. But I’m not gonna let her rape us just because she’s cool with you.”

Frankie was caught off guard. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought Gillian sounded jealous. “Ain’t nobody raping me.”

Gillian shot him a look that warned him to tread carefully.

Frankie smiled. “I feel you,” he said. “But before you jump in with your eyes closed, you should get the background on the situation.”

Gillian grinned. “You’re right. Why don’t you fill me in?” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back.

“Angelle is a chick who always gets money. She gets down like the big boys. Always has. You could learn a lot from her.”

Gillian frowned. “You think I could learn a lot from a chick who would fuck a man she has no attraction to for money? That’s what I should aspire to?”

Frankie shook his head. “You know that’s not what I’m saying. She didn’t even mean that shit,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Angelle is cool.”

She shook her head. “I’m not concerned about how cool she is. This is about getting money, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” Frankie nodded. “But part of getting money is knowing how to deal with people and keep them on your team.”

Gillian sucked her teeth. “So that’s why you flirt with her? To keep her on the team?”

Frankie wanted to laugh, but didn’t. He could see now why she had such a nasty attitude toward poor Angelle. She was definitely jealous. He shrugged his shoulders, not sure what he should say. “You call it flirting. But I’m just being nice to that girl.”

Gillian looked away. “I’ll deal with her directly from now on so that you and my brother don’t keep getting business and pleasure confused.”

Frankie smirked as Gillian folded her arms across her chest like a spoiled brat. He started the car and pulled off, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. “You’re so pretty when you pout.”

Gillian fought unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Dominique sat at the table in the prison visiting room, anxiously waiting for Jamel to walk in. She could hardly wait to see him again! It had been three whole weeks since the last time she’d made the seven-hour bus trip from Manhattan to upstate New York, and Dominique was practically bubbling over with anticipation.

She glanced around the room at all the women and children who, like Dominique, had made the long trek from their homes in the middle of the night to arrive at the facility in order to be searched and barked at first thing in the morning. The visitors were frowned at, were spoken down to, and had their clothing examined to determine whether or not their wardrobe violated any of the prison’s rules. The corrections officers were rude and condescending, which made the whole experience even more demeaning for the visitors. All of this, just to enjoy the privilege of sitting across a table from the men they loved, while under the watchful eye of corrections officers who could decide to terminate the visit at any time.

Her mind wandered back to the conversation she had
had the evening before with her father. She had dropped Octavia off at her grandfather’s apartment. Bill Storms had asked his daughter why she was wasting her time on a convicted felon who never finished high school and had no hopes of ever making as much money as she did.

“Here you go traveling all them hours upstate to visit some thug doing time.”

“Daddy . . .”

“You’re a smart girl, Mimi. Intelligent, got a good job, nice home, money in the bank. Lucky for you, you look just like your daddy, so you’re pretty.”

Dominique had laughed at that. Bill Storms knew he was a good-looking man.

“Seriously, you got a lot going for yourself. People in the entertainment industry know your name. They respect and admire you. And even with all that, you insist on being with a hoodlum like Jamel. He ain’t got no job . . . probably never had one. What kind of contribution can he make to your lifestyle?”

“It’s not all about money, Daddy,” Dominique had explained. “I’m not one of those women who dates a guy based on his net worth or the title he holds at his job. If I like a man and he treats me right, makes me laugh and gives me good conversation . . . I’m fine with that. Financially, I can take care of me. I don’t need a man to do it.”

Her father had nodded. “I think that’s good, Mimi. But, damn. Date somebody with some potential. You work around all those producers, music execs, and . . . professional men. Why waste your time with a damn drug dealer?” Bill had laughed as if the thought of it was absurd to him.

Dominique understood how her father felt. And what he was saying was absolutely right. But what he (and everyone
else, for that matter) failed to realize was that she was in love with Jamel. There was history between them that few could understand. They knew each other well, and their conversations were great. What Jamel lacked in credentials he made up for in chemistry. And that was enough for her.

As two little boys who couldn’t have been older than seven or eight years old began chasing each other around the visiting room, one red-faced, scowling officer yelled, “Please keep your Future Felons of America under control! There is no running in here. Make them sit down or your visit will be over before it starts.”

Dominique, as well as several other visitors, was absolutely outraged by the officer’s remarks. “Did he just say ‘Future Felons of America’?” she asked a woman at the table next to her.

The woman nodded. “They say whatever they want because they get away with it. They see all of us as one big pit of niggers. It’s as simple as that.”

Dumbfounded, Dominique watched as the boys’ young mother told them to sit down and be quiet until their daddy came out. Finally, the inmates began to enter the room one by one. Each one walked over to the corrections officers’ desk first, where they were instructed to stay on the opposite side of the table from their visitor and to refrain from excessive touching or kissing. The inmates then proceeded to their assigned tables, where each one was greeted with hugs and smiles from the visitors who waited for them.

Dominique sat waiting patiently for Jamel to come out. Each time the door swung open, she hoped that he would be the young black man in green prison garb who emerged. But so far, each prisoner who entered was headed for another table. Finally, she watched as the door opened and Jamel
stepped confidently into the room. He walked so gracefully and with such pride that it commanded attention. Dominique caught a couple other girls watching Jamel as well, and it only made her prouder that he was headed her way.

She stood to greet him and kissed him deeply. The kiss was shorter than she wanted it to be, since the COs had their eyes on them. They sat at opposite sides of the table and held hands as they stared at each other, smiling.

“Hey, you!” Dominique was ecstatic to be here with her boo. She missed him like crazy.

Jamel thought she looked so pretty. She had gotten her hair done, and she looked nice. She couldn’t stop smiling at him. Her skin seemed to glow with happiness, and he was honored that a woman of her caliber was this visibly excited to see him.

“Wassup, baby girl? You look good.”

Jamel smiled, and his deep dimples made Dominique’s heart race. To her, Jamel was so sexy. As she talked to him about her trip up north and about all the new developments in her life since they’d last spoken on the telephone (the night before), she couldn’t help longing for the day when she wouldn’t need to sit on a prison bus to come and see him. She wanted to wake up beside him each morning, to fall asleep in his arms each night, and to spend all the time in between in his presence. She was so in love with Jamel.

They talked about everything from the times they spent together before he’d come to jail to the times they planned to spend together when he came home. As the conversation switched from what they’d done in their past to their plans for the future, Dominique couldn’t hide the troubled expression on her face.

“What’s the matter?” Jamel asked her.

She looked around the room at all the families there. Some were baby mamas bringing a bunch of little kids to see their fathers. Some were mothers and grandmothers coming to see their sons. Some, like Dominique, were ride-or-die chicks standing by their men. But they all had one thing in common: They shared the misery and degradation that the penal system put their loved ones through, and they all wanted it to be over. Dominique was sick of leaving her beautiful home in the middle of the night only to travel for hours to reach this dungeon. She was sick of having to defend her relationship against the naysayers. And, truthfully, she was sick of missing Jamel. All her friends had the warmth of a man to snuggle up to in the coming winter months, while the man she loved was locked behind gates, walls, and barbed wire.

Dominique finally shrugged. “It gets harder and harder to come up here,” she said. “Seeing these cops treat these women and kids like this. One of those bastards called those two little boys over there ‘Future Felons of America’ before you came out. They’re so disrespectful and so rude to everybody.” She shook her head as she thought about the indignities she’d seen many visitors suffer over the years since Jamel had gone to prison. “When you get out of here, Jamel, you have to swear that you’ll never come back. I don’t want to be bringing our kids up here to visit you, having to deal with some asshole talking to them crazy or looking down on them.”

Jamel nodded. He understood how she felt; he also suffered indignities at the hands of the modern-day overseers. “I promise,” he said. “I’m never coming back here.”

Dominique nodded, feeling somewhat reassured. There was another issue pressing her, and she cleared her throat
and finally brought it up. “Did your son’s mother come up here to see you?”

Jamel looked caught off guard by the question, but tried to recover quickly. He debated whether or not to lie about it, but then figured that he may as well tell the truth. After all, if she was asking she must already know something. “Yeah,” he said. “Shonda came up here and brought my son to see me.”

Dominique watched him sit back in his chair and stroke his chin, his eyes shifting from her to the little girl at the table next to them. His sudden interest in the toddler only confirmed for Dominique that he was uneasy with the direction of the conversation. She pressed further.

“When?”

“Last month, I think it was.” He licked his lips as if they were suddenly dry.

“You
think
it was last month?” It was a rhetorical question. Dominique didn’t really expect an answer, so she wasn’t surprised when she got none. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“ ’Cuz I thought you’d be upset like you are now. That’s why.”

Dominique smirked. She had to hand it to him. He was crafty when it came to shifting blame. “Why would I be upset that you had a visit with your son? What would upset me about that?”

Jamel shrugged. “All I know is you got the same look in your eye as the prosecutor in the courtroom. I feel like I’m being interrogated, cross-examined or whatever. It’s not like I lied to you. I just didn’t mention it ’cuz I didn’t want to bring no drama between us. I get enough of that from Shonda.”

She said nothing for several moments. “What did you and Shonda talk about?” she asked.

Jamel shrugged again. “We didn’t really talk much. I was just chilling with little Anthony the whole time.”

Dominique had to resist the urge to laugh. “Anthony is six years old. What did you talk to him about for five hours?”

“See what I’m saying?” Jamel gestured with his hands. “Interrogation.”

Dominique was done listening to him. Her mind had already begun to imagine what Jamel and his baby mama had discussed during their secret visit. She could only assume that there was more going on between Jamel and Shonda than he was willing to admit.

“So now you’re gonna sit there quietly?”

She looked at him and his handsome, rugged features and loved and hated him simultaneously. “What can I say?”

He smiled coyly. “You can say that you love me.”

This time, she was the one who shrugged. “You already know that,” she said. Choosing to drop the subject, she walked to the vending machine and got a pack of donuts for herself and a bag of Dipsy Doodles for Jamel. She understood that there was history and possibly even love between him and Shonda. But she was determined to keep him focused on their future together, and in order to do that he had to let Shonda go. Dominique wondered what she could do to help ensure that happened.