Naomi and her two companions shopped up a storm during the day. They became even more closely associated while finishing their meal at Aquarios. Then they hit up the most fashionable stores in Manhattan. First stop: Saks Fifth Avenue. Some business suits, matching shoes, handbags, and they were off to some of the other designer clothing stores: Gucci, American Girl, Ferragamo (where Naomi changed into a
burgundy suit with a cream shirt, matching heels and a scarf to hold up her wonderful hair), Bergdorf Goodman, Henri Bendel - from 49th Street to 60th Street on Fifth Avenue these girls made their mark. And showers of blessings rained down on astute salespeople who assisted and stuck to the ladies in whichever store they happened to be shopping.
Their next stop was 34th Street and Herald Square where they got something to eat before continuing their shopping jaunt at Macy's - only in the perfumes and colognes department, though. Naomi followed up with footwear from Footaction for the latest Skywalk Mid GTX from Vazquez, the Air Jordan 5 Raging Bull and the Air Jordan 6
Carmine. Imani and Katrina surprisingly liked almost all of the same stuff and bought accordingly, only in vastly different sizes, as Katrina was SNICKERS thick and Imani a Slim Jim goody. The trunk and the back seat of the Benz was packedby 8p.m. They decided to take in a movie at the AMC theater on 42nd Street. The movie was good; towards the end, Katrina's and Naomi's phones rang.
"Hey, babe," Naomi greeted.
"'Sup, ma? Where y'all at?" Branson asked.
"The movies. You done with whatever you had to handle?" "Yeah, so far. Movie almost finished?" She stood up.
"It is now. I'm coming," she pronounced in a no-nonsense tone. He laughed, amused but pleased. "Where are you?" She motioned for the other two women to comeon; they got up and made their way out, Katrina still on her phone.
"Two-fifth and St. Nick."
"Alright. We'll be there in fifteen minutes." He laughed.
"You'll never make it here in fifteen minutes. And don't forget to hold your hands on the wheel where I showed you."
"I didn't forget all day, babe. I'm not gonna forget now. Shortly." That was Naomi's signoff: "shortly." She hated the word "goodby." Twenty-five minutes later, she pulled up to park behind the Tahoe by the train station opposite Popeye's at Hello Sports, a predominantly footwear store owned and run by a cool ass Japanese family who were into the Black hip-hop culture. The store had been there for decades and was a mainstay of the Harlem community. They had originally opened a footwear and apparel
store called Palladium up the avenue and down the street but had also later opened this branch in this prime location under another name.
Almost directly in front of the train entrance-exit was a small hole in the wall music store (in front of which the Tahoe was parked) attached to a small tenement building. Many other stores were closed but others, like the hole in the wall, were still open, full of people looking to download the latest trending music and/or buy the classic Harlem white tee. There were crowds of people still moving about - Old Navy down the avenue was still open and so were a few other apparel stores although it was mainly the fast food joints that stayed open late.
Naomi spotted Branson and Get Right immediately, despite them being surrounded by a small crowd of people. They got out the Benz and waited. Everyone knew Branson's
whip and no one spoke a word to the women. Branson made eye contact with Naomi and winked to let her know he'd seen her before going back to the business at hand. Information and instructions on the current status quo were being disbursed (what with Chulo's situation being all over the news). Everything would be fine, pull together like a family, support the big homie Chulo whenever he popped up because he wasn't going to run forever, and keep hustling. Branson was good with words and Naomi watched as he weaved a spell over the crowd. Even though she couldn't hear the words, she noted that his listeners, some with heavy jewelry on themselves, were rapt on whatever came out
of his mouth. He was a natural born leader.
They appeared to be rounding up as they started giving daps amongst each other. Most of them left in midsize luxury SUV's but a very few simply walked off. When the last person moved away, the ladies moved towards Branson and Get Right; the former
raised his arm as Naomi approached and eased into his embrace. That connection, that feeling of security, the surety that everything would be all right as long as she was in his arms, was palpable. She leaned onto his chest, hand on his rock hard abs, the other around his waist. He was also carrying a brown paper bag in his left hand.
"Look at you, looking all snazzy and shit," he complimented her. She moved back. "You like? You really do?"
"I like, it's nice." She spun around, did some girly poses then leaped up to put her arms around his neck and brought his face down for a slow and sensuous kiss as he grabbed her ass. "You ready to go home?" He breathed the question into her mouth, smelling and tasting, like Malta.
"Yeah, let's go home." Get Right was again playing the don, both girls on him like a fur coat. He was kissing Katrina passionately, grabbing her ample buttocks with one hand and cupping Imani's butt with the other.
"Ayo, boss," Branson said to Get Right. "It's yo' deal with the munchies. I gotta get up early and go holla at twin tomorrow."
"Right, right," said Get Right, giving Branson The Forum handshake and a normal dap after. "I'll take care of the munchies as usual. You take care of the big homie."
"No doubt. One."
"One." They separated with the girls squawking about the next time they would meet. They almost forgot their shopping apparel but Naomi reminded them. The back of the Tahoe was near replete with all of their shopping bags. Branson took off with Naomi and the girls waved at each other again.