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"You not about to tell me Boyz In The Hood is better than Paid in Full!" I scoffed at Cut statement while stirring my chicken alfredo

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"You not about to tell me Boyz In The Hood is better than Paid in Full!" I scoffed at Cut statement while stirring my chicken alfredo. My eyebrow was raised high in the air and I just kept stirring, a playful smirk planted across my face.

"Man, you not about to tell me Money Makin' Mitch dying made you cry more than Ricky gettin' shot." Cut shook his head in disbelief, wiping his mouth with the cashmere napkin laid on our table.

I knew me and this nigga had to be the loudest ones in this posh ass restaurant. We ain't care. Can't take the projects outta me bitch!

"That's a bold face ass lie. I didn't even cry when that nigga got shot." I took a sip of my lemon water before continuing on with my monologue. "First off, that nigga didn't go off to college like he should've. Then he gon' let a nigga like Doughboy of ALL people fight your battles? Then the nigga get all the way killed in the movie ANYWAY. So, you gotta ask yourself, my nigga was it even worth it?" I crossed my arms triumphantly before pointing at his hand attempting to change the subject."

"You got some steak on your watch." I snickered.

Before Cut could even counter-argue with my star critique analysis, he looked down at his watch and sucked his teeth. "Damn, now I bet you think a nigga sloppy." he wiped his watch with the same napkin but he ain't even know that it had steak sauce all on it. 

"Nah, don't use that. Lemme grab this one-" 

I guess Cut saw the same thing happening and he reached for the same napkin. Our hands had lapped eachother but I quickly drew mine back. 

Why the hell was my heart racing?

Cut looked up at me curiously before his gold-filled smile spread from cheek to cheek. "You ain't gotta be shy, ma. I know you wanted to touch a nigga eventually."

I cut my eyes at him with a scoff before taking a sip of my water again. "Cut don-"

I'm so sorry you guys, but there's been a recent complaint of some noise coming from this table. We were just hoping you could quiet do-

"Man, what the fuck?" Cut scooted his seat back like he was about to stand but looked back at me cautiously before fidgeting with his sleeves. I watched in anticipation of what he was thinking to do.

"You tell your guests that if they got such a problem with me entertaining my date, then they can come over here and TELL ME DIRECTLY TO SHUT THE FUCK UP." he made his last words loud enough where forks stopped clanking against plates for a split second.

Now sir- The waiter grew uneasy and a bit nervous.

"Is there anything else?" Cut dug in his shirt pocket and pulled out 2 crisp blue $100 bills, motioning them over to the waiter to take.

The waiter's eyes grew big, took the money, and suddenly straightened their posture and smiled at Cut. "No, sir. That's all."

Cut then turned his attention back to me with an apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry, ma. You wanted to go?"

He must've noticed how on edge I must've look. Relaxing, I shook my head in decline. "Nah, like you said, they can come to the fucking table if its bothering them." 

I silently gathered some of my chicken alfredo around my fork, popped it in my mouth, and chewed slowly as I looked around the spot. I ain't never been to somewhere so fancy and it made me wonder how the better half lived. Successful father figure, loving ass wife, 2 cute ass kids. All gathered around the dinner table eating luxurious chicken tenders and fries.

I glanced back at Cut who was checking his phone. It gave me a moment to take him all the way in. He was a handsome ass nigga clearly with money to blow. But I was getting insecure considering I was just some girl from the projects and I didn't have nowhere near the assets he had. He ain't even live near the projects, word on the street is he got a whole condo in Brickell and a house in Southwest Ranches.

Where in your world was I going to fit in, Cut?

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz. 

"What the fuck?" I murmured as I checked my phone. It was a 770 number and the only person I knew who was in Atlanta was my-

Nah, it couldn't be who I thought it was. 

I answered the phone and just put the receiver to my ear without saying hello. 

"Ana!" I knew that voice anywhere

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"Ana!" I knew that voice anywhere.

"Anaiis Hamilton, babygirl is that you?" I felt my fingers grip the table cloth at him calling me that.

What the fuck did he want?

"Listen, Ana. Baby, if this is you, please call me back. I been tryna get in touch with you for years, please call your daddy back. I know its a fucked up situation going on right now and I know you got a lot of questions but, baby, listen, whatever Kandi done told you- know what, just call me, or text me. Lemme know you okay, baby. I love you."

Click. 


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