Taking the Risk, Amaunet Jendayi [book recommendations website .txt] 📗

did have a job, she didn't like for too many people to pay for her things because she always knew that they would want something from her.

 

After a few minutes of looking over the menu, a lady about in her mid-30 bounces overlooking overly bubbly, the lady's ocean blue eyes settle on Tyson then Aynslee. "Hi," She says with a southern drawl, that definitely was not fake and a smile. "I am Miss Lori and I will be your server tonight." She introduces while she puts down two wooden coasters. "Do you know what you want to drink?" She takes out her ticket pad and pen.

 

Tyson looks at Aynslee and Aynslee sighs not really knowing what she wanted to drink, but on top of that she couldn't even find the drinks on the menu. Tyson speaks up, "We'll have Champagne."

 

Miss Lori writes it down and asks, "Chilled?" Tyson nods while Miss Lori writes the drink order down, "Okay, do you know what you want for your appetizers?"

 

Tyson looks to Aynslee and Aynslee shakes her head. She didn't know what any of these things on the menu was. Like what the hell is a veal? And caviar? She had no clue as what she could eat. She closes the menu and sighs, rubbing her temples.

 

Tyson looks at Miss Lori and answers, "We'll start out with the steak salads." He looks to Aynslee and she perks up, nodding. He nods as well while Miss Lori writes it down. "Okay, the entree?" Tyson looks at the menu rubbing his chin. "Do you want the noodle Alfredo chicken? Or the top sirloin steak with a side of mashed potatoes?" He asks Aynslee.

"The noodles." She answers. He looks at Miss Lori; waiting for his order. "Oh...I will have the steak." She writes it down, "Alright," Taking the menus she says, "Your drinks and salad will be here shortly." She ambles away.

Aynslee had never been in any place this fancy and upscale before. There is a light chatter amongst the other couples, the atmosphere is soothing, the lighting is slightly dimmer just enough to give that romantic feel, and to give a romantic feel there are colored unscented candles on some of the tables. The change was very overwhelming for Aynslee but on some other, level it is very nice to not eat fast food all the time.

"How's your leg?" Tyson says breaking her thoughts.

Aynslee moves it around under the table, "It's good. Doesn't hurt as bad." She starts fiddling with the coaster.

"That's good. Maryanne helped with that." Tyson credits Maryanne for coming up with a pain cream that works almost instantly with the side effect of dozing off for a few hours or so.

Aynslee

 

"She's a nice person." Aynslee agrees nodding her head. "I feel like I know you from somewhere . . ." Aynslee says lightly tapping the coaster on the glass table, wanting to go ahead and get it out and in the air.

 

Tyson leans forward. "We went to high school together. I was the all American nerd. We were best friends along with a few other people."

 

Aynslee tilts her head to the right, trying her best to remember through the migraine. The tapping of the coaster stops; remembering, "YOU! You're Tyson "Pop" Reese?"

 

He flinches at that nickname and scrunches his face a little. "Yes, I am." He got the nickname pop because he had such bad acne and the teenagers would say Pop! While walking behind him. He sits back while Aynslee smiles, "Wow. Long time."

 

Tyson nods, "Very long time." smiling.

 

Their eye connection is broken when Miss Lori bring the champagne ice bucket and two wine glasses. She sets them down on the coasters and pops the cork off the wine bottle causing people to cheer.

 

Aynslee did not know what the cheering was about, but she too cheered, that caused Tyson to chuckle at her. Another waitress that almost resembles Miss Lori; places the salads in front of Tyson and Aynslee. Miss Lori shoes the waitress away while she pours the wine gently in the wine glass and places the champagne bottle back in the bucket of ice. "Your entrees will be out shortly." She then touts off to tend to another couple at a different table.

 

Aynslee opens her napkin and sees two forks, two spoons, and one knife. The pairs of silverware looked the same to her, so she picks up one fork and starts to dig into her salad. Tyson notices that she is using the wrong fork but says nothing to her; all he could do smile.

 

5

Patrick Larkin West

 

The visiting room is loud with the clamor of convicts speaking to their families, friends, business associates, and lawyers.

 

Patrick West sits at a small child like faded pink table alone as he looks around for his homeboy. All of the other tables were taken, that is the only reason why he is sitting at the child's table.

 

His cynical brown eyes look at the clock, "Shit, but the time that nigga shows, I will be in a fucking box under the jail." 2 minutes later, a rusty old- young man with a yellow bandana around his forehead sits at the table with Patrick. "About time. Nigga."

 

"Dude, shit ain't good."

 

Patrick all but raises his voice, "Da fuck you mean "shit ain't good", Chubbs?" He slams his chains that are cuffed to his wrist down on the table; angry.

 

"Fuck. Someone saved her. We don't know who or how he figured out she was there, but someone got her out of there." Chubbs explains. Patrick nods. "There was a shootout and he shot Mel, man. So, I ran." Chubbs continues explaining.

 

Patrick's eyebrows knit together in fury, "You two were supposed to finish the job. Not half-assed it. And your bitch ass ran?" He whispers to Chubbs, Chubbs leans into Patrick whispering as well, "You did not tell us that she was a fighter. It was hard to even knock that bitch out. Talking about kill the bitch. Hell, the way she was fighting you'd think that she wanted to live."

 

Patrick laughs uproariously that made some people turn to look at them. But, just in an instant that laugh was replaced with a scowl, "Da fuck y'all bitches looking at?"

 

Everyone that was looking turn around and goes back to their own conversations.

 

Patrick's eyes Chubbs, "Yeah, she is a fighter alright. As many black eyes that girl gave me, it's still a fucking miracle that I can see. But, I never said that it would be an easy job, Aynslee ain't no punk. The girl can hold her own when she isn't on drugs. That's why I told y'all to drop her favorite drug in the mail slot."

 

Patrick stares at the table in deep thought, "Then you guys must have bought that weak ass shit from one of these fake ass dope dealers. But, I want y'all to find her. Put Sinab, Damien, and Loko on it. I want every city shaken down and every crack house, jail cell, and friends' house checked. I want full reports on what you guys find." Very annoyed at the task. He couldn't believe that he asked his boys to do a simple but not so easy job and they half-assed the damn thing. Fuck!

 

An annoying buzzer buzzes letting the inmates know that visiting hours are over. "I want her dead," Patrick says as he is hauled away to the general population.

 

The annoying wall to wall chatter and dominoes being banged dramatically on the filthy steel grey tables of the jail hall, made Patrick all the more enraged then to top it off with the fact that Aynslee got away.

 

He wondered how in the hell did she escape?! He sits at the second to last table, the only clean table in that jail hall.

 

"Nigs, don't know how to clean up after themselves," Patrick says as she signals his cell mate over.

 

His slanted blue eyes, fine black faded style hair, wide chest build due to working out 24/7, and deeply tanned copper tone skin completes his thick eyebrows. With a wide gap, he walks over to Patrick, holding his jumper pants up. Smiling, he gives Patrick dap, then sits down straddling the bench. "Sup man?"

 

Patrick shakes his head, "Nun much, Royce." He looks around the general population of murders, thieves, pimps, drug dealers, murder suspects, DUI's, and abusers. Royce smiles half his teeth missing and most replaced with false due to a fight yesterday. "Did you get that lying, cheating bitch?"

 

Patrick frowns and gets angry all over again, "Nah, man. She phoned help after I told them two fools to make sure she had no way of communication. But, they either didn't listen or she had a backup phone."

 

Royce titters and drums his fingers on the table, "Probably calling all those nigs she was fucking with and got pregnant by."

 

Patrick scoffs knowing that was the truth. "Plus, where she get money to get a phone? Her lazy ass doesn't work at all. So how the fu-."

 

"One of them fools she was messing with. She probably put it down on him so good that he bought her a phone and all those other things she got."

 

Patrick continues to stare out into the population. "Yeah." His mind forming into a deeper hate for Aynslee; just from that information along.

 

He blinks turning to Royce, "I am having it fixed right now. And hopefully they will actually kill that lying ass bitch instead of thinking or assuming that she's dead."

A female police guard/officer walks up behind Patrick. "Patrick West."

 

Patrick looks at the female officer, "Sup, officer Sheyn?" He gets this goofy smile for the brown eyed female officer.

 

Unfazed by his smile, she cuts her eyes at him. "It's time for your therapy session with Dr. Morris."

 

He scowls; he hated it, but it is mandatory for him to go while he is in this hell hole. "Ight. Catch ya later, Roy." He gets up and Royce nods to him a 'see ya'.

 

Following the female officer down an empty hallway, Patrick tries to strike up a conversation. "So, how's your sister doing?"

 

Officer Sheyn sighs in annoyance, "She's fine. Not like you care, so why are you ever worried about her?"

 

They stop at the end of the hallway and turn to their right where a sandy closed door set. "I do worry about her and I do care about her. She is the mother of my kids. How can I not worry about her?" Patrick almost whines.

 

Officer Sheyn rolls her eyes, "Yeah, along with your son and daughter. They are suffering because you chose to do the things that you do. They need a father and I wouldn't be surprised at all if my little sister left your ass for someone better. Someone that can actually help her."

 

She knocks on the door, a little irritated at the fact that he actually thinks that he is doing the right thing with his life. But she was not the one to try and get him in line.

 

"But, I do. I told you the story behind Aynslee; the whore. I felt like I had to take care of her-." Patrick tries to spin a lie but is interrupted.

 

"Just a minute." A male voice says from behind the door.

 

"Take care of her when she told me that she was