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best attorneys money can buy. If I go to jail, my family will still be taken care of,” Manny said confidently. “I have my lawyer’s number on speed dial.”
Tommy relaxed. He’d known Manny for quite some time, and he admired his knowledge of the drug trade. He knew Manny would advise him wisely. Manny and his family had been in the business for years, and they were all very wealthy. Tommy wanted to get where Manny was—living in the mansions, driving the Ferraris and Bentleys. He knew that if he ever stocked a few million dollars, he would get out of the drug game in a hurry.
Manny put his arm around Tommy. “Come on, man. Let’s go to the bar and talk. We can’t let the feds stop our show. I don’t know about you, but I got a lot of people depending on me.”
Outside, Manny gave fifty dollars to the valet, who quickly retrieved the Ferrari.
The beach wasn’t crowded. Manny sped down Collins Avenue until he got to Lincoln, where they found the Moon Room, a private restaurant. The guy at the door smiled at Manny and led him to a room in the back. Young Latino women with their breasts exposed and tight skirts waited the tables while salsa music played in the background
“What the hell is this place?” Tommy asked, amazed.
“This is my favorite restaurant. All the girls in here are hookers, so if you see one you like you can take her upstairs and screw her.”
Tommy had seen several attractive women as soon as he’d walked in the door. However, it would be downright shameful if he couldn’t get an erection for some pussy that he would have to pay for. “I just want something to drink.”
The waitress appeared in a black skirt with red pasties over her nipples. “Hey, Manny.” She smiled. “Do you want the usual?”
“Hey, Anna, this is my friend Tommy. Get him what he wants.”
Anna walked over to Tommy’s side of the table, pressing her 36 D’s against his shoulders. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Vodka and cranberry juice.”
“Grey goose okay?”
“Fine,” Tommy told Anna.
“I’ll take a glass of wine, Anna. Give me your finest white wine,” Manny said.
Salsa music continued to play in the background, and Tommy thought about the movie Scarface. Here he was—a boy from North Carolina, in a restaurant with beautiful, topless waitresses and talking to a man with cartel connections.
“So, Tommy… are we going to do business or what?”
Tommy thought hard. He knew that the feds were onto him. He knew that he couldn’t send the product back on the plane. “I have no way of getting my product back.”
“For five thousand dollars extra, I will have my people bring it to you,” Manny said. “Like I said, nothing is going to stop this show. I have inventory and it has to be moved.”
Tommy’s eyes lit up. “You could get that done?”
“Come on, Tommy, we’re family. This is what family is for.”
Anna brought their drinks and two complimentary Cuban cigars.
Manny passed Tommy a cigar. “You smoke cigars, don’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re a big boy now. Smoke … or at least pretend you’re smoking it.”
Tommy put the cigar in his mouth. He really felt like he was a part of a cartel. But he knew, at this level it was deep involvement. He knew he just couldn’t up and quit if he wanted to. He would have to disappear.
Manny smiled then slapped Anna on her ass.
*****
    “Twin, I think we should chill,” Fatboy said, speaking into his cell phone. He glanced at the Charlotte Coliseum as he drove by in his Escalade.
“Why?”
    “Your girl told you they were on to us. And that little confrontation in the airport...”
“Nigga, don’t worry about that shit. That’s just probably some security type shit. Remember 9-11, nigga? Ain’t nobody safe at the airports.”
“That was the DEA that stopped us, nigga; that wasn’t security.”
“We’re okay, man. Don’t worry about that shit.”
“Take it easy on these phones.”
“The phones are okay. We just got them.