“I told you, I’m laying low. You know a lot of shit been going down in the streets with Suef.”

“You got to come better than that. You done showed up at my door looking all feminine and shit, which I been trying to get you to do for the last two years. Something else is going on with you, homegirl.”

Arnessa contemplated her answer. I should tell her—she is my only close friend. It had been three weeks since she’d gone to stay with Butta. No one else knew about their relationship, outside of Cenise, Shawn, and Mannie—or so she thought. Once Shawn’s baby’s mother caught wind of the relationship, she and all her chicken-head friends were buzzing.

“I’m staying with Butta now,” Arnessa replied.

Looking up from her plate, Tasha asked, “You staying with him, or are you staying with him?”

Unsure of what their relationship really was, she answered, “I think we’re together.”

Tasha’s mouth fell wide open, “Are you jayin’ Butta, with his fine, Do-mini-can ass?”

Arnessa simply blushed.

Tasha laughed. “You finally got you some dick … it’s about damn time.”

The two girls chatted for a little while longer. Then Arnessa had to leave to get Cenise from school. After Cenise’s runin with Trenton, Arnessa began driving her to and from school every day to ensure her safety.

Following Butta’s automotive advice for the second time, Arnessa sold her Magnum and purchased a fully loaded black Infiniti FX45. He’d initially told her to get rid of the Magnum in case Suef had any ideas of repercussions against her. A different car would throw him off for a while. Before she’d gotten the FX she’d tried to buy a Grand Cherokee, but Butta, who’d accompanied her to the car lot, changed her mind. “Get you something nice, yo; enjoy your money,” he encouraged, knowing the only thing that she cared to splurge on was Cenise.

When Arnessa saw the FX, she fell in love with it, but she didn’t feel comfortable with the nearly fifty-thousand-dollar price tag, “Butta, I like it, but it cost too much.”

“Ma, if you want that, I’ll give you half the money. I think you should have this car, though. You hustle hard for your paper. Treat yourself sometime, baby. ’Cause you can’t take it with you.”

What she wouldn’t treat herself to, Butta did, lacing her with quite a few trinkets and treats. Not because he was trying to spoil her or buy her, but because he wanted her to be more ladylike. Around the middle of her second week at his house, he noticed that she kept all of her small belongings—like her money, license, and ATM card—in her pockets. When he’d thought about it, he’d never seen her carrying a purse. The following evening when she returned to the house, the couch in the den was filled with shopping bags from Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Prada, Saks, and Bergdorf. Each bag contained two or three purses, along with a matching wallet or billfold. A couple of the bags were for Cenise too, who thought Butta was just the coolest.