The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [28]
“And what about you?”
“Me, I’m dealing with everything the best way I know how. I cry every morning when I think of my Poppa. It’s like one minute I’m upset with God for Him taking my father away, and then the next minute, I’m thanking Him for bringing you into our lives when He did. You are my brother, and I am glad that you’re here, Carter. I don’t know how, but you make things seem like they’ll be okay.”
“I’m just here to help, Breeze. At first, I wanted to say, ‘Fuck Miami,’ and move on with my life as if none of you ever existed, but that would be selfish. And I’ve never had a family, so I want to get to know you, Mecca, and Monroe.”
“Well, I can tell you the way to win my heart,” she said with a smile as bright as the summer Miami sun.
“How’s that?”
“Everything today is on you.”
“I got you, sis.”
Breeze found out that she and Carter shared the same love for fashion. She took him from store to store as she shopped, picking up every designer she could find. He didn’t complain or rush her in the same way her other brothers did, and he even gave honest opinions when she asked about an outfit she tried on.
“How’s this?” she asked as she walked out of the dressing room in Saks Fifth with a skintight Seven jeans that fit low on her hips, almost revealing the crack of her ass, and a Fendi blouse that barely covered her breasts.
It was sexy, but definitely not something that he wanted his sister to wear. “I’m not buying that shit. As a matter of fact, you ain’t wearing it even if you buy it yourself, so you might as well hang that back up.” He flipped through his Apple iPhone, ignoring her.
“Come on, Carter, it’s not that bad,” she argued.
He didn’t respond, and just continued to focus on his phone.
“You’re just as strict as Poppa was,” she stated with a little bit of attitude and a laugh. “I am a grown-ass woman, you know, big-head ass.”
“I heard that,” he stated calmly as he leaned back in the leather chair, still flipping through his phone. He shook his head once she disappeared behind the dressing room curtain. As he waited for her to come out again, he mumbled to himself, “She gon’ have me fucking these little niggas up in Miami.”
They went through several outfits, and he had a comment for each one.
“Nah.”
“That’s whack, sis.”
“That shit don’t match.”
Breeze went in and out of the dressing rooms until she finally grew tired of his disapproval. “Okay, Carter,” she said, “out of all the stuff I’ve tried on, you’ve only liked three outfits. You tell me what’s hot.”
Carter put his phone on the clip of his belt buckle. “A’ight, let me show you how to do this. All that hooker shit you and your girlfriends be wearing is trash.”
“Excuse me, everything in my closet cost a grip,” she replied, one hand on her hip.
“That doesn’t mean that it’s classy. I’m a man, so I know what I’m talking about.” He quickly located ten different items for Breeze to try on. “You want these niggas to respect you out here, especially you. You’re the only daughter of Carter Diamond. You need to dress like the princess that you are and make men come at you correct when they checking for you.”
“I hear you.” Breeze took the items from his grasp. She tried on the first outfit, which was a pair of cropped white Ferragamo pants that hugged her shape as if it were tailor-made just for her body. Her white shirt had a sharp collar, dipped low in the cleavage area, and fit snugly around her slim waist, her sleeves stopping short just above her elbows, and a large black fashion belt adorned her waist. She slipped her feet into a pair of black stilettos. She had to admit, the outfit was nice and made her look like a kingpin’s daughter.
She walked out of the dressing room and did a full spin for her brother.
“That’s more you,” he stated as he stood to his feet. He checked his presidential Rolex and noticed that they had been shopping for hours. He called one of the store associates over to them. “Can you have these items boxed and bagged for us?” he asked.
The woman grabbed the items from Breeze as she changed back into her clothes.
“Let