II – THE MEETING
“This place is whack,” Shorty thought to himself as they walked up the dark, dirty stairwell of a rundown building in the hood. They were on what felt like the 100th flight of steps so far, with no end in sight.
“Is it whack that I am being bringing you to this place, Shorty?” Shorty had to stop right where he stood. The P’s reading minds now? That’s what he was saying to himself. What the hell was this? Crazy ass building in a crazy ass neighborhood, and now the P’s poking around in his head? “This ain’t real,” thought Shorty.
“Now is the way I am saying my reading of your mind is not a fiction,” Peja said it like he knew it was cutting Shorty deep. Peja knew Shorty wished more than anything that he could read minds – like X-Men and s–t. The P was always rubbing it in about all his skills like that.
When they finally got to the top of the steps, they could smell something – something nice. “In the middle of all this?” Shorty thought.
“Yes…in the middle of all of this.” The crew turned around and daaaaaamn, there was a fine woman standing there – mad body; all decked out, too. She was working it just by standing still. And she was reading Shorty’s mind, too. She took a step forward. “I need your help, Mr. P.”
“That’s THE P, bit -” Peja slapped Shorty across the face, shutting him up quick-like. He turned back to the woman.
“The dropping of my album is on the way to being happening. Now is the time I am with busy.” The P was right – Shorty had heard most of “Peja For 3″ and it was tight. Shorty had produced the first single, so there was a lot riding on it for him, as well.
“Name your terms,” this chick was all business and everyone knew it. Murph was sweatin’, Shorty was sweatin’. Hell, the whole crew was sweatin’. P, though? Cold as ice. He nodded – he was gonna find out what was up with this broad.
“It is my desire for the dinner to be eaten together.” P took a long pause. “Baby.” The woman popped the slightest little smile.
“Where would you like to go?” She put out her hand, offering it up for P to kiss. Now P, if you don’t know, don’t go around kissing no hands. The P gets his hand kissed, ’cause that’s how he rolls. So P puts out his hand, same as her, and it was like an old fashioned, full-on, old west stand-off.
“Steak is a meal that is what I enjoy.” Peja kissed his own hand, and Shorty knew that nothing with the crew would ever be the same again.
NEXT: DINNER FOR 3
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