She Used to Be the Sweetest Girl(12)
“You are attractive. I just don’t think you're my type. I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. He was fine as hell to her, but she was not ready to welcome him into her world, at least not yet anyway. The little pep talk she gave herself about stepping out of her comfort zone was quickly ignored. She was simply not ready.
“No hard feelings at all ma. Everyone can’t handle my type,” he said confidently, before standing up. His tall frame, towering over Brix, made her want to wrap her arms around him and tell him not to walk away yet. She didn’t like how he placed her in the category of everyone else, but there was nothing she could do.
Mel walked away, taking his L like the G he was. He slid back in his booth and watched as Brix left out the door. For her to claim he wasn’t her type without even knowing him rubbed him the wrong way. The first two assumptions she placed upon him, he wasn’t really tripping off of, but to automatically assume he wasn’t her type, he wasn’t feeling at all. Shit, maybe she wasn’t his.
Walking to the car, Brix felt a little bad about how she brushed Mel off. Climbing into the passenger seat, her mama immediately went in with the questioning.
“Did you get his number?” she asked excitedly.
“No ma. I told him he wasn’t my type,” Brix said in a whining manner.
“Now, why would you say that? You don’t even have a type,” Mrs. Carla fussed. She was for certain Brix was going to walk out smiling. That was not the case at all.
“But I do! I don’t know what made me say that mess,” she replied, shaking her head. She knew exactly why she had said it, but didn’t want to admit the truth to her mama.
“That’s alright. It’s not like the world is going to end because you don’t want to talk to him,” she said, pulling out the parking lot.
Brix knew she had a point. The thing was, she didn’t want the world to end before she ever found her a quote unquote type. She thought Drew was everything and more, but you see how that turned out. Sitting quietly, lost in her thoughts, Brix went over the upcoming week in her head. The first thing she planned to do when she arrived home was update the pricing on her website for desserts. Valentine’s day was around the corner and besides, Thanksgiving and Christmas, that was one of her busiest days of the year.
“You know what ma? I’m going to just remain focused on me. I don’t need a man distracting me right now,” she told her mama as they pulled into the driveway.
Her mother smiled, but knew deep down Brix was only saying that because of what she had been through. She hated that she felt like she wasn’t good enough after the way that excuse of a man, Drew, treated her.
“Hey, whatever you decide, I’ll support you baby,” Mrs. Carla replied.
Brix smiled at her mother before getting out the car. True enough, she was always focused on her coins. The only thing a man could provide for her right now was some good dick. But what’s good sex to a female who was making love to the money? Just another squirrel trying to get a nut, and Brix hated squirrels.
Four
Taking a swig from his cup of lean, Pierre looked around the warehouse. It’s Wednesday morning, the middle of the week, and shit couldn’t be going any smoother for him and his family. Money was flowing abundantly, they haven’t had to kill one person all week, and Shemel’s show was this weekend.
“Aye, aye, you niggas quit playing and listen up,” he told everyone, mainly talking to Fatz and Ricky. Them two were forever on some childish shit, especially when Pierre’s younger brother Carlos aka Los joined in. Everyone got quiet and looked his way.
“Alright, so check it, money looking good, but we can be making more. I’ma set up some shit with Jefe to ship in some more coke for sometime next week. We good on the weed and pills tip right now. That nigga Mel been out here moving shit,” he praised his best friend.
Mel just shrugged his shoulders. Of course he was making shit move; he ain’t have a choice. Studio sessions weren’t free, and although he got paid to do shows, he blew through those checks quick. Majority of the time, he’d toss them to his mama just because she deserved it.
“What’s good with the syrup?” Fatz questioned.
“Lisa should be hitting my line today. I’ma start charging yo ass. I hope you selling just as much as you sipping nigga,” Pierre told him.
“I ain’t paying for shit. You need to start dicking that bitch down a little better. Make her ass supply us with some more,” Fatz said, with everyone nodding their head in agreeance.