Club Simone’s

The quiet streets echoed Delores’ high-pitched voice as her stout hand gripped the cell phone and opened it.

“Hello… What… What time is it Tyrell? Why you calling me, boo?”

She wrinkled her chocolate colored forehead as her large brown eyes searched the night streets. This late at night, nothing moved around except a bum traveling around. He looked at her and decided to keep moving when the driver exited the car with gun in hand.

‘Shit, don’t you know what sleep is? It’s after midnight and I’m standing outside of the new building with your sister like you asked me too. Calm down; okay.”

“Shit, I was at home getting ready to go out and you’re the one that called me.”

Delores made invisible swirls in the air from the motion of her arm then took her other hand off the ladder and placed her left foot on the bottom rung.

‘You asked, no, you begged me to drive all the way downtown with your sister and stand outside in the cold holding a fucking ladder. So, why you tripping, boo.”

The metal ladder vibrated and scraped against the side of the building. Keisha’s large eyes grew wide and she stopped hanging the sign at looked down at her friend’s chocolate-skinned heart-shaped face.

“Damn it, Delores, will you please hold the ladder still.”

Keisha faced the building and plugged the cord into the outlet on the pole then checked the metal clasp connecting the sign to the pole.

“I’m finished. I’m coming down.’

She carefully climbed down from the ladder, and stepped back to inspect her work. The sign read ‘Simone’s.”

“There, I’m done. That’s not bad, if I must say so myself.”

As the two women walked through the open door of the club, a smile came across Delores’ face and she reply jokingly.

“Don’t hog the credit bitch. I crafted the background, did the fluorescent lettering, and framed it.”

Keisha opened the club in an old department store four months after Del's death. The police report of self-defense cleared her for the insurance policy. The 800,000 came in handy as she fought for control of M.E.C. She used a large portion of the rest of the money to acquire the building and open the club. It provided her with the right venue to become a rising star within the Family and a place to highlight the talented performers she managed.

Located in New Orleans’ trendy French Quarter neighborhood, Simone’s had a lot going on almost every night of the week. Because the famous and infamous celebrities of New Orleans and the people that lived to hang around them frequented the establishment, the club became the hot spot every weekend. Tyrell co-owned the club, so Keisha never had a problem with the people inside or the cops outside. A new guy that Tyrell hired ran the security for the club. The bouncers consisted of mostly ex-military, ex-football players, and gangsters. They dressed in black SWAT-style uniforms and sported prominent handguns and Billy clubs holstered to one hips. On the weekdays, Simone’ operated as a posh strip club that offered attractive female company for the discriminating gentleman. On the weekend, various well known Rap and Hip Hop artists managed by Keisha as well as the house band, Chapeaux, performed.

Simone’s offered everything – nude dancers, the best Deejay spinning the most up to date sounds, a three star restaurant and four fully stocked bars. The 22-foot high brown cedar-beamed ceiling, soft lighting, and huge hardwood dance floor made it one of the top nightclubs in the area. The central bar in the middle of the dance floor provided an atmosphere that encouraged everyone to mingle, and a place for on-lookers to sit and watch. Two other full service bars, and an additional bar upstairs for VIP’s and dinner guest only offered more of a relaxed feel. Together with a dark and fancy atmosphere, Simone’s provided an excellent relaxed setting for cocktails and business.

Keisha rested behind her mahogany desk on the third floor. Her large eyes carefully scanned every monitor as they broadcasted security video from all over the club. The closed office door abruptly opened and Tyrell waltzed into the room and reclined on the brown oversized couch. Scott Mclean, his bodyguard and the new head of Simone’s security, shadowed his entrance and stood behind him. Keisha turned and looked at Tyrell. She removed her glasses, placed them on the desk then wrinkled her forehead and narrowed her eyes.

“You two attached at the hip or something. I need to talk business, Tyrell.”

“Keisha, I told you anything you say to me can be said in front of Scott. He’s my number one and I know I got good people.”

Tyrell brushed the imaginary lint off his steel-gray, woven-wool, Italian suit. He placed his matching gray tasseled loafer on the table and crossed his ankles.

“He’s ex-military and dedicated to the task, but the best part about it is he’s my best friend. I’ve known him from junior high all the way through high school. We hung out all the time until he up and left to join the Army. I trust him like you trust me, okay.”

Keisha raised her sculpted eyebrow, peered at her brother, and cleared her throat.

“Get your damn shoes of my table. This isn’t your office. Anyway, who told you that I trust you, Tyrell?”

Tyrell moved his shoes, smiled, and laughed.

“Well, the last I heard your momma said you have too or have you killed her, too.”

Keisha smirked then glared into Scott’s small brown eyes and frowned. She knew his type, the killer type; they always wanted to take control and could never be trusted.

“Whatever you say, but, that motherfucker’s here on your word, Tyrell. If he talks, I’m gonna kill him and you. You got it?”

Tyrell playfully shivered his shoulders as if what she said scared him. When Scott smiled and laughed at his motion, Keisha rose from her seat, looked Scott directly in the eyes.

“Shut up, bitch! Nobody told you to smile.”

Then she approached the couch. Tyrell raised his bushy eyebrows as she stopped in front of him then crossed her arm, patted her shoe against the floor, and stared at him.

“Oh, like I’m scared of you or something, Keisha.”

Keisha extended her hand toward Tyrell and he stared her in the eye. After a few seconds, he took her hand and shook it.

“Okay, sis, you got my word.”

Keisha twirled around and returned to the desk. It pleased her that her bluff worked because her brother was a tough character to control. However, she could control him most of the time. Keisha was the matriarch of the family and the next Queen of C. S. Deuces

“Now this is how we’re gonna take out Tony DeLauro. He invited us to his house for a meeting about the new territory. You know since, Demerol Sane died all of his turf has opened up. My girls tell me that none of Sane’s boys is being paid. They’re looking for work and we got work. Let’s hire a few and take out Tony and the rest of the board in one swipe.”

Tyrell stood and moved across the mauve carpet to the wet bar in the corner of the room.

“Well, let me think about that for a while, Keisha.”

He reached into the cherry wood stained cabinet, retrieved a water glass, and poured a half of glass of gin. Keisha’s large brown eyes stayed fixed on Scott. Because she didn’t know him, she didn’t trust him. Tyrell motioned toward the wet bar.

“You want a drink, Scott?”

Scott waved him off while keeping his eyes fastened on Keisha.

“Nah, no thanks Tyrell. I’m still on duty and beside I really don’t drink. I don’t like to be out of control. How about I fire up that blunt you gave me, instead.”

Tyrell strolled back to the couch. His heavy body sunk into the cushions on the sofa.

“Good ideal, Scott, see that’s why I like him. He thinks. Look Keisha, with the type of bodyguards that Tony has, he’ll be out of that house before one shot is fired. You can’t get him like that. Besides fifteen men jumping up in a crowd of people shooting is too obvious; that’s why it will never work.”

Keisha rolled her big brown eyes at Tyrell, glanced at Scott again as he retrieved a blunt from inside his jacket. She got up from her chair and walked over to the wet bar.

“You offered him a drink but won’t even offer to pour your sister a drink. I bought this shit.”

She picked up a crystal glass and poured a double shot of cognac. After adding a splash of lemon, she returned to her chair behind the desk.

“Well Keisha, it’s your shit. So, I figured since it’s your shit, you can get your fat ass up and pour your own shit.”

Keisha chucked her pink Zippo lighter across the room at Tyrell.

“What’s your plan smart ass?”

Scott caught Keisha’s lighter, lit the blunt, and gently placed the lighter against Tyrell’s left shoulder. Tyrell took the lighter, placed it on the table, and picked up his drink.

“I’ll let Scott tell you.”

Keisha took a loud sip from her glass then slammed it on the desk and peered at Scott.

“Okay motherfucker, you got the floor. What’s on your mind?”

Scott cleared his throat. The white smoke floated out of his nostrils as he spoke.

“The way I figure it Ms Keisha, taking out all of the Bosses would make Tyrell Riggers the head of the New Orleans underworld.”

Keisha picked up her drink, took a loud sip, and slammed it on the desk again.

“Yeah, yeah blah, blah, we already know that, fool.”

Scoot passed the lit blunt to Tyrell.

“However, Ms. Keisha, it has to be done covertly, so no one knows what was really going on until it all of a sudden happened. The fewer people involved will decrease the chance of being caught. First, I’ll take out Theurgist ‘Gist’ Jones and make it look like Spencer contracted the hit.”

After the tense meeting, Keisha headed home to change clothes for her dinner with 4Real. She relaxed in the rear of the sedan and took a sip from her glass.

‘Hey, Christie, there’s a Worthen Bank on the corner.’

Spotting the small bank, the driver zoomed across two lanes of traffic into the parking lot.

‘Do you want to go inside or to the drive thru, Ms. Riggers?’

‘The drive thru window will be fine Christie. Thanks for asking?’

The baby blue car circling around to the rear of the building and Christie Boutinane drove toward the ATM. Reversing the Mercedes Benz S class sedan, she backed up to align the rear window with the machine. She set the parking brake and rolled down the window. Retrieving her handbag, Keisha dumped the contents on the passenger seat and searched for her card. The tone of her cell phone broke through the silence as she placed the earpiece into her ear.

‘Hi, mom’

‘What time you want me ready?’

‘I’ll be there around seven tomorrow night. Make sure you are ready?’

‘Yeah, I will be. Did you ask Walter to come and do my hair? I want to look nice.’

‘You always look nice mom. I called him before I left work. He’ll be there before eight in the morning. Do you need me to take you shopping for anything? I’m going to Marjorie’s; I can stop by and pick you up. ’

‘Nah, I’m all right, you’ve done enough, sweetheart. You make me so proud of you, Keisha. When are you going to bring your brother and his friend by to see me so we can play spades? You know I think Scott would make you a good husband child.’

‘Come on mom stop playing matchmaker. Anyway, I must go but I’ll see you when I get there okay. I love you mom.’

She hung up and found the card.

‘I can’t reach the slot. Is there anyway you can get the car closer?’

Christy stepped out, retrieved the card, and inserted it for her. At first, it didn’t work because she had it turned upside down. Flipping the card over, she re-inserted it and returned to the driver’s seat. Keisha pushed a few buttons and the ATM asked for her PIN number. She thought she entered the correct number, however, the computer screen read ‘wrong pin please re-enter.’ Digging through the pile, Keisha located her pink diary. She turned to the last page where her PIN was written, re-entered the correct PIN, the amount of cash she needed, and waited.

Checking her makeup in the reflection from the glass, she retrieved the cash and receipt. After returning the huge pile from the seat to her empty handbag, she located her wallet, placed the cash inside it, and stored the receipt.

‘Ok, let’s go to Marjorie’s’ at Markham Square but first, oh, shit stop….

‘What’s wrong, Ms. Riggers?’

‘Go back… I forgot to get the card out the machine.’

The driver backed up to the cash machine, retrieved the forgotten card, and returned it to Keisha.

‘Thank you so much, Christie. That would have been the third card I’ve replaced this year.’

‘No problem, Ms. Rigger. You were saying to go to Markham square but first....’

‘Yeah, first go by the condo so I can change and pick up Ebony.’