Page 25 of Cannon

I smiled, flattered and confused, thinking she’d finally scrounged up enough money to treat us. We strutted into thatRed Lobster, both of us dressed like we had no business being there on a weekday with less than ten dollars between us.

When we reached the tank, she leaned down, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You ready?” she whispered.

“For what?”

Her voice dropped, low and electric. “We’re takin’ dinner into our own hands tonight. Grab one and follow my lead.”

I was confused. “Mama?—”

“No questions. We snatch and dash. Let’s go.”

Before I could talk her down, she’d already dipped her manicured hand into the water, quick as lightning, and pulled out a fat lobster. It flailed in her grip, claws trying to thrash but the rubber bands wouldn’t allow it. Water splashed all over her dress. And she laughed, loud and wild.

“Now you!” she yelled.

My hands trembled, but I reached in anyway. The cold hit me like a slap, but I managed to grab one, slippery and mean. My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Run!” she shouted.

We bolted, both of us dripping, lobster legs dangling out of our arms like cursed trophies. The hostess screamed. A busboy dropped a tray. Someone yelled, “Call the cops!”

But we were already out the door.

Back in the car, we were breathless and I was still confused. My mother was insane. That was just the first of many moments where she had grandiose, ridiculous ideas. She’s always thought she was owed the world. She always had to be the center of attention.

Hell, my name was an example of that. She named me Queen Marie and I’ve always been embarrassed by the name.

At home, she dropped them straight into a boiling pot, humming and dancing like she hadn’t just committed seafood theft in heels.

“You see this?” she said, twisting melted butter into lemon juice and sliding a plate toward me. “This is what luxury tastes like, baby. You don’t wait for it. You take it.”

I nodded, dazed and irritated by her antics. It was embarrassing running out of that restaurant with those lobsters.

“You’re a queen,” she said, licking her fingers. “Don’t you ever let nobody tell you different.”

I didn’t feel like a queen.

And now, looking at ZaZa unraveling in her own chaotic way, I wondered what exactly I’d passed down.

Not just the crown.

But the curse too.

A knock on my door dragged me out of my thoughts.

“Come in!” I called out.

And there he was, towering like a statue. He walked in, his eyes laser-focused on me.

“Welcome back,” I said.

“Thanks.”

“So, I’ll give you a tour and introduce you to everyone. What I need is someone to manage all of the security. Right now I have four. One man is at the entrance for patrons, another at the entrance for employees, and two are in the main club. I would need you to be my eyes and ears…”

I ran down all the logistics and rules of the club. I explained to him about money drop-offs and how he’d be responsible for escorting me. All of his references checked out and he seemed like he would be a good fit. But I could be wrong. Was I thinking with my pussy?