Derrick was silent for a minute. I was tempted to slap him across that pretty-ass face of his, but I waited for his explanation. Finally, he spoke in a whisper.

“A couple o’ the fellas and I started a little business selling weed to the other inmates. Part of our agreement was that each of us would recruit someone to bring weed up to us each month. Now, baby, you’re my woman, so there was no way I was gonna ask you. I don’t want you gettin’ into no trouble” He smiled.

“But Derrick, why did you have to ask her? You know I can’t stand that bitch.” I was indignant.

“Because she’s stupid enough to do it. Wendy’s not smart like you, baby. She’s nothing but a ho from the street. You’re a college-educated woman.”

He covered his face up with his hands. I wasn’t sure, but I think he was trying to hide some tears. I hated times like this. The last thing I wanted was for my man to feel like he was less than a man.

“Jazz, I love you, baby. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about you coming up here to see me.” He reached over and touched my hand. “I’m just using Wendy so I can do business. She brought me two ounces of weed yesterday. Do you know how much that’s worth in here?”

I didn’t care how much it was worth. I didn’t like it. Derrick only had six months left to see the parole board. If he got caught, they’d give him another two years as sure as I was looking at him.

“Derrick, this is stupid. You have more than enough money in your commissary. Why do you have to do this?”

“Baby, I can make twenty grand easy in the next six months. I’ll be able to start up a legit business with that kind of cash.” His eyes lit up.

“I thought you were going to college. We don’t need any money. I’m making good money now that they made me supervisor at the post office.”

“Hey, lemme decide what’s right for us. I am supposed to be the man in this relationship, right?” He waited for an answer. “Right, Jasmine?”