4. Not My Type
Four
Not My Type
DESTINY
My frown was so deep that it hurt as I sat at my computer, typing away.
My access to the financial records had been denied, and my role at the church had been diminished to typing up programs and transcribing sermons and notes.
I hadn’t spoken a word to my parents in days, but that didn’t stop my father from trying.
Every morning he would sulk into my office with breakfast and a sorry look on his face—the same face that had apparently been beaten to a bloody pulp again sometime after I stormed out the other night.
Lady West, or whoever, really did a number on him, but I couldn’t even feel bad, not after what he did.
“Good morning, Baby Girl.” Right on cue, there he was again, carrying a takeout bag from one of the best breakfast spots in the city.
I didn’t reply, simply glaring at him before returning to my riveting task of working on his sermon on greed from two weeks ago.
I almost laughed at the irony, but I was still so angry that all I could do was tap the keys violently, wishing they were his face.
As a Christian, I was raised to never question my parents, to always hold them to the highest regard, and trust their judgement.
Finding out that my daddy—the man who I placed on the highest of pedestals—was just as conniving and sneaky as the other men he raised me to be wary of, broke my heart every time I thought about it.
“Des, it’s been long enough. You need to stop behaving like a child and speak to me.” I turned, looked him dead in his eyes, and pushed the bag of food right into the trashcan. We had a stare off for a few moments before I spoke.
“How could you do that to me? Not only did you steal, but I have to pay the price for your bad decisions?! That man you’re trying to pawn me off on is… disgusting! He’s rude and worldly—nothing like the man of God that you raised me to save myself for! How could you do something like this?”
“Destiny!” he snapped like he was at the end of his rope. “I need this! Do you not understand what she will do to me if I don’t pay her back?!”
“Well, why don’t you pay her back then? Just leave me out of it. I don’t want any parts.”
“Because the money is gone. It’s spent! You think I have three million dollars just laying around? Use your fucking head!” My neck whipped back like he open-hand slapped me. I reverted to my silence as I looked at him, waiting for whatever he had to say next.
“Do you want me to die, Destiny? Because I’m not sure if you understand what’s at stake here.
These are not regular people! That bitch will kill me if you don’t do this for me.
After all I’ve done for you, you owe me this!
” he snapped, every bit of warmth absent from his voice.
I knew that the decision was mine. He couldn’t force me to do anything.
But could I live with his blood on my hands?
After what I’d witnessed and the conversation we had, I had no doubt that that crazy woman would kill him, and deep down I knew I couldn’t just let that happen.
Aside from that, my whole life revolved around him and the church.
He made my major bill payments, and unlike my little sister, I didn’t go to college, so I didn’t really have a career or a backup plan.
I took a deep breath, then looked him right in his eyes.
“I’ll think about it,” I said casually.
“Destiny,” he said through tight lips.
“I said I’ll think about it,” I snapped. “Actually, I’m not really feeling work today. I think I’m gonna take the rest of the day off.”
He sat there glaring at me like he wanted to put hands on me… like I did something wrong. As I grabbed my purse and brushed past him to leave for the day, I knew in my heart what I had to do, but I also knew that I would make him sweat a little before I gave in.
By the time I got to my car, I had an incoming call from an unknown number. I had multiple missed calls from the same number over the last few days, so I finally decided to answer.
“Hello?”
“Destiny?” A deep voice came from my speaker, and I automatically knew who it was.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Uh… This is Brick.”
“Okay?” I called back with an attitude. I hadn’t forgotten how he spoke to me that night and had no plans to. By the way he looked at me, I could tell he wasn’t doing this by choice either, so I knew he needed me just like Daddy did.
“Are you busy? I was hoping that maybe we could talk?”
“I’m free… talk.”
“In person.”
“I’m busy,” I scoffed.
“You just said that you were free, Destiny. Listen, I ain’t on no bullshit. Just a conversation. Please?”
I sat there for a moment, envisioning him on the other end of the phone. I wasn’t a liar, so I could never say he wasn’t handsome. I just knew he wasn’t the man for me. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life with someone like him.
But did I really have a choice at that point?
“I’ll text you an address. Meet me there in thirty minutes.
” I said, not giving him a chance to reply before hanging up.
I looked down at my outfit and sighed—a simple graphic tee and peasant skirt with an oversized cardigan on top.
It would have to do. If I would have known that I was meeting with my…
future husband, I would have worn something nicer.
I rolled my eyes and drove to my destination, making sure to put on a little gloss and smooth down my hair.
Since I took my sweet time, by the time I made it inside, the first person I saw was Brick, seated at a table, chatting it up with some woman who had on a skirt so short that at first I mistook it for a belt.
My eyes narrowed as she giggled and playfully rubbed her hand down his arm before stroking his beard.
“Yeah… nah.” I turned on my heels and started to make my way out of the restaurant, but the sound of Brick calling my name stopped me.
“Destiny! Over here!” I scowled to myself and turned back around, making it to the table just as his barely dressed guest stood up.
She took one look at me, giggled, and sauntered off.
I gave her a nasty look right back before my eyes shot to Brick’s in time to watch him stare at her for the duration of her departure.
“Why am I here?” I blurted out. He begged me to meet with him just so he could stare at some girl’s booty the entire time. This would never work.
“My fault. Have a seat,” he said, standing to pull the chair out for me. I cut my eyes at him and sat down, watching as he returned to his seat across from me.
“Why were you leaving?” he asked sincerely.
“You looked busy,” I said with a scowl. Did he expect me to just walk up and hop in the middle of their conversation?
“Yeah, my bad about that. She’s… a friend.” He looked up at my hair, frowned, then tucked his lips in like he was trying his hardest not to say something.
“Okay…” I really didn’t need to hear an explanation of his dealings with that girl. I wasn’t jealous, but still. We paused our conversation to order lunch, and my attitude quickly returned when the waitress was seemingly offering much more than what was available on the menu.
“Brick, why am I here?” I asked quickly before another woman could come to the table and offer him sex.
“I thought you and I could talk,” he answered coolly.
He always seemed to have a confident demeanor about him, like he could talk a woman right out of her panties at the same time he negotiated a billion-dollar deal.
“It seems like our parents have been trying to make a lot of decisions for us, but we haven’t even had a real conversation. You up for that?” he asked.
“That’s fine.” I could admit that I was a little taken aback by his maturity. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Why are you doing this? It’s obvious you don’t need help getting the attention of a woman. How did you end up being a part of this craziness?” He sighed and looked off, seemingly debating on how much he wanted to share with me.
“My mother is a lunatic. She feels like I need to be married to inherit the family business, so she’s basically forcing my hand in getting married or else I lose everything I’ve worked my ass off for.” I stared at him in silence, trying to decipher if this was serious or some weird joke.
“So, why me?” I probed.
“She picked you. I guess the thing with your pops offered up the opportunity.”
“But… why?” I couldn’t help but wonder out loud.
“Shit… I don’t know. I can’t even hold you… You not my type at all.”
“Likewise.” I chuckled and raised my brows.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” His face twisted up to convey his offense.
I had to laugh. The fact that he was handsome was undeniable.
Younger me probably would have had a huge crush on him.
Grown me knew better than to even wish for those problems. He kept his hair cut low with waves, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed.
He was a pretty boy with a little edge, and I could tell that he could easily fit in on a corner, in a boardroom, or even on a football field, because he looked like he worked out often.
“I always wanted a God-fearing man. Like my daddy.”
This time he was the one to laugh, so hard that he snorted.
“That’s funny?” I asked with a raised brow.
“I think we both know that if your pops was all that ‘God-fearing,’ we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation right now.
” I didn’t answer, just bit down on my bottom lip because I refused to argue with someone that I knew was right.
His eyes fixed on my bottom lip before he corrected himself.
“My fault, keep goin’.”
“Someone who is a leader, a protector, a provider. Just a good man… and patient.”
“Well, I can be all of that… except patient. I’m impatient as fuck, Peep.” Something in me stirred at the nickname, and all I could do was pray that my face didn’t give me away. I knew he probably gave every woman in his vicinity a nickname, so I refused to bite the bait.
“And someone who doesn’t curse,” I said, cutting my eyes at him.