"Bitch, served for what?! You must've got the wrong name."

Daya immediately protested, slapping Nicoletta's hand away.

Nicoletta flinched back just quick enough for Daya's swat to miss her. Her eyes were wide before she read the women's demeanor and blushed. She grimaced before clearing her throat and running a hand through her hair.

Milan and Daya just stood there glaring at the lady with stares that had the power to send her straight to hell.

"I... maybe that wasn't such a good opening line." She offered, a shy smile trying to make its way onto her face as she winced.

Daya and Milan were still unamused.

"Okay, trying again. Hi, I'm Nicki Yolkovich. Ramses Young's lawyer. He told me to come here and find a Milan Cozart and that she would help me with his case on the outside."

Hearing that was worse than hearing that she was being sued.

"She's not here tonight." Milan blurted out before she could even properly think about what she was saying. She saw Daya look at her crazy out of her peripheral vision.

Nicki gave a childish pout, pulling out her phone and scrolling through some things for a second. "Ah, but it says here Milan supposedly work nights from nine to—"

"Hoe, we said Milan ain't working tonight." Daya butt in, adding more punch to Milan's previous statement. Nicki squinted her eyes at Daya, putting her cellphone back in the pocket of pants suit.

Daya kept the woman's stare, Milan did her best to hold her composure without fainting as well.

"Well, will you all just give Milan my card whenever she comes in to work again? I'd really appreciate it." Nicki did her best to wager with the women, producing a business card from her pocket and holding it out to them.

Snatching the card from her hand, Daya held it up to the light, scrutinizing it like it was a counterfeit bill.

"We'll think about about it, egg yolk." She answered, waving Nicki off with a bored demeanor after all of her theatrics. The name seemed to ruffle Nicki's feathers.

"It's Yolkovich." Nicki tried her best to sternly correct Daya. Her confidence visibly wavered when the two met eyes.

Daya gave the woman another once over before smacking her lips, "Get out my face, bitch."

Though Nicki's irritated look did not leave her face, the woman knew that she was outnumbered and Daya's bark was probably gonna match her bite. She looked between Milan and Daya once again, her eyes lingering on Milan a bit longer. She then nodded at them and strutted out the establishment the same way she came in.

"Now that dumb bitch know she can't play like that around here." Daya mumbled under her breath, still judging the business card she had in her hand.  

Milan took it and looked at it herself. 

Yolkovich & Associates, Chicago's First Choice for Law

She couldn't help, but scoff at the card.

At the situation in itself. 

Of course, Ramses found a way to still mess with her all the way from his jail cell.

"So what are you gonna do, girl? You gon' help him out or what?" Daya broke Milan's inner monologue.

Milan's thumb ran across the picture of Nicki's face on the card. The smooth lamination helping her think. "I don't know yet, but what I do know is, table 5 is ready for their check."

With that, Milan stuck the business card in her fanny pack pouch and walked back over the table she was serving moments before.

***

The next day, Milan awoke in her hotel room around ten thirty in the morning. 

There wasn't much to her day-to-day life, and she realized that. When she lived with her brother, they went out and ran errands together when he wasn't busy. She would hang out with Daya and Jazmine sometimes as well, but Milan was realizing she wanted more in her life.

Once again Milan was reminded of her hopes of going to college when she was in high school. She had gotten discouraged honestly. Many of her peers were going away to big school like Morgan State University, Howard, or Tuskegee University.

Milan's dream school was Clark Atlanta University, her father's alma mater. She got in as well, but the tuition was too high even with aid, and her eighteen year old mind was less on securing scholarships and more on paying for her prom dress.

That was the less stressful option.

She couldn't kick herself for focusing on the things that mattered and felt more doable to her back then.

For some reason today though, school was especially on her mind.

She pulled out her laptop from under her pillow and searched community colleges in her area. This led to a deep dive into education overall, and the next thing she knew, she was literally half way through applying to a school's accelerated bachelor's degree program. 

But then, her phone began to ring.

Looking over from her laptop screen to her cellphone, she saw it was a No Caller ID number. 

People were way too old to *67 her at their big grown ages.

Nevertheless, she picked up the phone. 

"Who is this?" She answered the call with.

"Hello Milan, it's Nicki again—"

"How the fuck did you get my number?" Milan growled, looking at the phone with an almost disgusted look on her face.

Guess acting like I wasn't Milan wasn't a great deflector.

She heard Nicki sheepishly laugh. "Ramses gave it to me. I—"

"Listen lady, I'm sorry he keeps telling you to contact me, but believe me I can't help him. I don't even want to help him. Please leave me alone." Milan told her next. The audacity of him and this nut job lawyer to keep pursuing her for his own interest.

She did not put him in jail and it wasn't her job to get him out. 

She didn't even know how she could help him.

Nicki was silent for a beat.

"He's currently being held for the murder of Chrisanto Chavez. Does this name ring a bell?" Nicki asked her with a tone that seemed like she already knew the answer to her own question.

Milan's blood ran cold immediately.

The feeling of Chrisanto's hand on her thigh, the smell of the smoke from his cigar blowing in her face.

The way his eyes never left her mouth when she spoke to him. 

His name was engraved into her mind alright. She could never forget.

He was the man her brother believed was their godfather. 

"Yes." Milan bit out harshly.

She heard Nicki flipping through papers on her side of the phone, she cleared her throat before speaking again. 

"I thought you would. Ramses has a heavy case stacked against him. It would be unwise for him to plead not guilty, because there are a slew of witnesses as well as DNA evidence. He does have a motive though, and that motive he tells me, was to save you from a threat Chrisanto had put on your life."

"My life?" Milan asked, her brow furrowed even though no one could see her. "I had no idea Chrisanto was out to harm me." She told Nicki.

More papers were sifted through in the background.

For some reason, Milan's heart began to beat faster. 

Did he do this for me? Did he know something I didn't this whole time?

Milan replayed the day he'd went out on his rampage. It was not for her.

She remembered the rage in his voice.

"Milan, you will never understand how it feels to have n*ggas thinking they got you."

All while stuffing that glock in his jeans.

"Mr.Young says although he did meet Chrisanto with intent to kill, he did not go through with it until Mr.Chavez told him that by the time the bullet hit him, he'd already have you, Miss Cozart,— please excuse my language— hog tied and shipped to Tijuana. Mr.Young then says, he shot and killed Mr.Chavez in cold blood. 

We need you to testify on his behalf."

And for some reason after hearing all of that, Milan hung up the phone.

Her ears were ringing. She felt nauseous. 

Knowing her name was on Chrisanto's lips moments before he died. 

To think Ramses killed him to protect her honor. Her life.

It was all too much. 

And then, to turn around and ask her to pay for his sins, even on her behalf. Milan was speechless. 

Instead of dwelling too much longer, Milan pulled her laptop back onto her lap. She finished her undergraduate application she'd started and she went on to apply to four more schools before she decided to give that a break.

The next time she typed an inquiry into a search engine she typed:

"Minimum sentences for first degree murder in Illinois."

Her heart dropped when the first hit was at minimum 20 years. 

Imagining Ramses behind bars until his forties broke her heart. 

Although she did swear him off, although he did do the crime. She still loved him and she didn't want to see him locked up.

So, the next search Milan entered when she refreshed her page was:

"Nicoletta Yolkovich"

Because one thing was for certain, Miss White Girl Yolkovich had her work cut out for her trying to save a drug lord and murderer from going to jail.

And Milan wasn't putting herself on the stand and in imminent danger for a dud of a lawyer.

Now hogtie that.