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jail uniform: brown khaki scrubs and orange slip-on canvas deck shoes. Yarni smiled at Tangaleena, laying eyes on her for the first time. She was a pretty, well-groomed girl. Even in a jail uniform she looked good. Her skin was smooth and had a healthy glow to it. She had been in jail since Monday and it was now Thursday. There was no indication at all that she had been in a fight, at least not on the losing end.
    Yarni turned around to look at Mrs. Londers before the proceedings began. She wanted to give her a reassuring look, but she was distracted by the guy who had taken a seat beside the woman. He looked to be in his early forties, average height, rail thin, with peanut butter–colored skin.
    A chill ran down Yarni’s spine.
How do I know him? A past client?
she thought.
Do I know him through Des?
His head was turned as he said something to Mrs. Londers. Then he turned to face the front, and his round pop eyes met Yarni’s, causing her to feel like she was in a scene from throw-back boxing, when a young and new Mike Tyson hit Michael Spinks with the legendary right hook.
    There wasn’t a chance in hell that she’d ever forget that beetle-bug face. It had definitely been a long time ago, well over a decade, almost two, but she remembered it like it was yesterday. Her feet were like cement blocks planted there on the courtroom floor. She couldn’t move, and before she knew it, her mind had flashed back to the way their paths had crossed long ago. And though it had been over seventeen years ago, she remembered it like it was just yesterday.

     
    It was 2:30 in the morning when Yarni and her girlfriend, Vanessa, walked out of the front door of Ivory’s Uptown Lounge with an attitude.
    “That shit was so wack,” Yarni complained.
    “You ain’t never lied,” Vanessa echoed her displeasure. “That shit was a waste of my makeup and time.”
    The only thing Yarni and Vanessa really had in common was going out to the clubs. If Yarni needed a shoulder to cry on or even someone to go shopping with, Vanessa wasn’t the one she called. The twosome knew a lot of the same people and both could do the damn thing when it came to dressing. Partying andclubbing while looking fabulous was in their blood, so they often went out together.
    “Let’s not forget this outfit.” Yarni was wearing a dress from LaVogue that had set her back at least four hundred bills. By the way she wore it, though, it looked like it could have cost four grand.
    Vanessa cut her eyes, barely able to disguise her envy. “I know those shoes gotta hurt your feet.”
    Yarni looked down at her feet, on which she’d donned three-inch heels with blinged-out straps. “Fashion sometimes comes with a little pain,” she said.
    “Well, mine don’t hurt and I didn’t pay half of what you paid.”
    “Don’t hate, congratulate,” Yarni wanted to remind Vanessa, but instead she changed the subject. “You want me to walk with you to your car, and then you give me a ride back to mine?”
Better safe than sorry
, Yarni thought to herself.
    “Naw, I’m okay. I’m parked right up the street.” Vanessa pointed to her car.
    That was one of the reasons Yarni didn’t kick it with her outside of clubbing. Vanessa never thought about anyone but herself, but Yarni shrugged it off. “Well, a’ight. I’m parked in the other direction.” Yarni still gave her friend a hug, and as she walked off she said, “Call me when you get home.”
    “Who said I was going straight home?” Vanessa giggled. “I might stop and put something in my stomach, like some hot fries … or a long, hard, thick dick.”
    “That shit would be funny if I didn’t know you were dead-ass serious,” Yarni shot back, knowing Vanessa’s M.O. It was senselesstrying to talk Vanessa out of something once she put her mind to it, so Yarni did the next best thing. “Just be careful … and make sure you make your donor carry an umbrella and wear a raincoat,” she advised over her