Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

say tomorrow night?” she asked.

      “I know a cool spot for us to chill out, dance and maybe have a few drinks.”

      “Oh, that sounds cool. I like that.”

      “But you sure it’s okay, you won’t get into trouble for dating a parent, right?”

      She laughed. “Nah, I’m sure the folks in here won’t have a beef with that. I’m old enough.”

      Promise smiled. “Ahight.”

      “Oh, I forgot.”

      “What? What happened?” Promise asked becoming suddenly worried. “You don’t have a man?”

      “No, tomorrow night, I promised to hang with my home girl. It’s her birthday this weekend and we were supposed to do our thing together.”

      “Oh, she can hang. I don’t mind.”

      “Maybe you can bring a friend with you so she won’t feel awkward,” Audrey suggested.

      “She ain’t ugly?” he asked.

      Audrey chuckled, “Nah, she’s cute. I’ll vouch for her.”

      “Ahight, I’m gonna take your word for it. I got someone in mind that’ll probably come along.”

      “Okay so tomorrow night. It’s a date.”

      “Say around eight.”

      “That’s perfect,” she assured him.

      They both smiled and Promise called to his daughter. He hadn’t felt this good and been in this kind of mood in a long time. He felt like jumping up and down and doing cartwheels. The nigga was ecstatic about tomorrow night.

      Friday evening came and Promise was ready to roll. He dropped Ashley off with his neighbor, Ms. Watts. She was like family, very charming, and very motherly to Promise and his daughter. She constantly baked and cooked for the two and loved watching Ashley whenever Promise dropped her by. It was a second home to her. Ms. Watts was dependable.

      Promise met Squeeze at Nelson’s Barbershop, a popular neighborhood hangout in East Flatbush Avenue. He parked the X5 and walked into the crowded barbershop.

      “What’s poppin?” Promise greeted Tech outside.

      “I got that Jigga remix with Kanye West and Lil’ Wayne. I know you gon’ feel it, one hundred,” Tech offered returning the pound.

      “Got dat old-school R&B shit?”

      “You know I do. I got some classic Jodeci, 112, player,” Tech said shoving couple CD’s in Promise’s hand.

      “Now you talking,” Promise chuckled.

      He handed Tech ten bucks and walked into the barbershop. Squeeze was already in a chair, getting done up.

      “What up?” Promise greeted Nelson, the owner and gave Squeeze a pound.

      “You next,” Nelson said. “Rick got your spot reserved.”

      “Good-looking out, Nel,” Promise said and gave Rick dap as he sat in the chair.

      “How you like it?”

      “Just line me up,” Promise said glancing at himself in the mirror.

      “No doubt,” Rick said.

      Promise sat in Rick’s chair as Nelson continued giving Squeeze a fresh one. Othe patrons spend time watching videos playing on BET. Heads of customers and barbers alike swiveled to check Jigga’s latest video.

      “I done told y’all them chicks don’t make a dime, shaking ass in those videos, you feeling me on that?” Nelson announced.

      “C’mon Nel, you know they eating. I used to date one of ‘em video-hos, I mean chick and I’m sayin’, the bitch was getting paid,” Rick said smiling.

      “Would you let your daughter become a video ho?” Nelson asked.

      “My daughter…? My daughter’s gonna be a lawyer or a doctor. She ain’t gonna have time for any activity like that,” Rick answered.

      “What about you, Promise? You got a young daughter, right?”

      “Yeah, but hell fucking no, I’ll be damn if she gonna be rump shaking in any damn video,” Promise said shaking his emphatically.

      “I’m feeling you, might as well just start ho’ing and start making some real money,” Rick said with a chuckle.

      “How you know there’s any real money in ho’ing? What you pimpin now?” Laughter erupted throughout the barbershop. “Lemme find out you out all night pimpin’?” Nelson laughed.

      “He talking plenty shit, huh Nel?”

      “Like Tech would say, that’s one hun’red,” Nelson laughed.

      They walked out of the barbershop so fresh and clean. Squeeze and Promise got in the X5 and jetted out to Long Island to pick up Audrey and her girlfriend. Promise was nervous about Squeeze coming along but he was the only nigga suitable in his mind. Show, that nigga didn’t know how to act right when he came around bitches or pussy. Pooh, he was still a young nigga in the mind and heart.

      Squeeze wasn’t perfect, but the nigga was old enough and Promise thought he’d be the only nigga in the crew acceptable. Squeeze wasn’t ugly. He was definitely gentle on the eyes with the ladies and he had some manners - sometimes he got too rowdy. Promise prayed he didn’t show his true colors tonight in front of Audrey.

      Promise prepared for the night and dressed in purple velour Sean John sweat suit, his wife-beater showing underneath. He was flossing with his chain and white Air Force Ones on his feet. Squeeze was geared up in denim jeans and jacket to match with fresh new beige and white Timberlands on his feet. He was sporting his blue fitted Yankee baseball cap the gangsta hood way, low over his eyes.

      They took exit 21 off of Southern State Parkway and drove into Baldwin, Long Island. Promise followed the directions that Audrey gave to him over the phone. Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a sprawling Ranch style home with the manicured lawn out front.

      “Nice crib,” Squeeze uttered.

      Promise picked up his cellphone and dialed Audrey’s house number from the Jeep.

      “Hello?”

      “Audrey?”

      “Yes.”

      “It’s Promise. We’re outside,” he informed her.

      “Oh. Why don’t y’all come in? My homegirl isn’t ready yet.”

      “Ahight,” he said clicking off.

      “What she say?” Squeeze asked.

      “She told us to come in.”

      Promise was about ready to exit his Jeep when Squeeze said to him, “Hold on.”

      “What’s good, nigga?”

      “Why da fuck you bring da gat for?” Promise barked.

      “Nigga, I don’t know these bitches. You never know,” Squeeze said lifting his shirt and revealing his .380.

      “It ain’t dat kind of party, Squeeze,” Promise stated. “Leave dat shit in the car, Squeeze.”

      Squeeze lifted the gun from out his waistband and hid it under the passenger seat. “You happy, nigga?”

      Promise didn’t reply. He stepped out and headed toward the front door. Squeeze was just a few steps behind him. They got to the door and before he could ring the bell, Audrey opened the door smiling.

      “Hey you,” she uttered, cheesing as she peered at Promise. “Who’s