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give you shit?” Reggie wanted to know.
    “I ain’t got the loot, dude,” 2Glocks admitted.
    “Well why don’t you go pick up the work then?” Reggie suggested.
    “I ain’t sending nobody my money,” Deion said, shutting that idea down.
    “He wants to know when can we see him.”
    “Tomorrow.”
    “He said it would be better if we came tonight.”
    “It ain’t happening. I said tomorrow,” Deion stated, not budging.
    “Cool. Tomorrow it is,” 2Glocks said, after sending the text and getting a response.
    “I still think it’s a bad idea,” Reggie huffed.
    “Luckily for me, what you think doesn’t matter,” Deion said before continuing his conversation with 2Glocks.
    Chapter 7
    Run This Town
    “Damn, this line long as fuck,” 2Glocks barked, when they arrived at Club Onyx.
    “You know I don’t do lines,” Deion said, as he made his way to the front of the line with Reggie and 2Glocks right behind him.
    “What up, D?” the lady up front taking the money said as she nodded her head to the security guard to let Deion and his people through.  A scantily clad waitress was at the door to greet them. As she led them to a table in the VIP section, Fuck With Me You Know I Got It was blaring throughout the club. Deion nodded his head to the beat as if he felt the song was speaking specifically about him. When they were seated, he ordered six bottles of champagne.
    A pretty girl named Sapphire and another dancer Deion didn’t know approached the table. Sapphire sat on 2Glocks’ lap and began to stroke his braids. The other girl’s face wasn’t anything special but she had a body built for the stripper pole: fake tits and a mule ass. She stood in front of Deion, hands on her hips. “I’m Paris.”
    “I’m D,” he said. He’d never give a stripper his full name.
    “What can I do for you?” Paris eyed Deion and then her eyes went to 2Glocks and Reggie. She figured Deion had the money because he was the one paying for the champagne.
    “We chillin’ right now.”
    “Are you chilling or I’m just not your type?” Paris wanted to know so she wouldn’t waste her time.
    “Ma, with an ass like that, you every nigga’s type, unless they don’t like pussy.”
    Paris laughed and said, “I didn’t ask would you fuck me, I asked would you go out with me?”
    “Depends.” She smiled when she noticed Reggie and 2Glocks staring at her ass. The lime green G-string brought even more attention to her already massive ass.
    “Depends on what?”
    “If you a cool chick or not.”
    “If you saw me at the mall would you holla?”
    “Probably not.”
    “Why is that?”
    “I don’t holla at bitches. They holla at me. Everybody in the ATL know who I am.”
    “Really? I’ve never heard of you.”
    Deion tuned to Sapphire. “You better tell this chick who I am.” Sapphire quickly pulled Paris to the side and schooled her before sending her back over to Deion.
    “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but I’ve really never seen you or heard of you,” Paris divulged.  She pointed to a group of guys on the other side of the club, dressed all in black with GMC on their T-shirts. “Now that Get Money Crew. Those niggas ball out.”
    Deion looked over at the crew of men throwing money in the air like dummies.
    “See the tall dark dude? That’s big L. He blew forty stacks in here last night,” Sapphire told Deion, like that shit would impress him.
    “They’re more like the Get Indicted Crew,” Deion joked, but was dead-ass serious.
    “We don’t have to flash,” Reggie boasted.
    “Is that right?” Paris snapped, seeming unmoved.
    “What do you think?” Deion asked, ready to dismiss the stripper.
    “I know you cute as fuck,” Paris said, sitting down on Deion’s lap. He reminded her of Boris Kodjoe and he had paper, so Paris wasn’t trying to fuck the situation up. Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Paris,” she smiled.
    “You know what? You might just work out.”
    “But I’m not your