Better Than Okay (2 page)

She waited until the instant message box blinked on her phone.

“I’m here! Yay!”
she typed as soon as she saw he was on.

“In New Orleans? Cool.”

“No, in Podunk, MS…yes, in NO.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

Destiny frowned at her phone as she inched closer to the check-in
counter.

“Um, I said ’yay!’ and you said
’cool.’ Excited much?”

“Calm down. Men can’t use
exclamation points in texts... it’s weird. We also don’t say shit like ‘yay’.”

Destiny rolled her eyes and laughed, drawing the attention of a
little boy a couple of feet in front of her. She made a silly face at him and
he grinned adorably before hiding his face between his mom’s legs.

“That is incredibly crazy logic,
but whatever,”
she typed. “
We still on for lunch?”

“Yep.”

“Yay!!!!!!!!!!”

She teased him. She knew he was shaking his head at her like he
often did, a half-grin on his face.

“When is your interview?”

“About to walk in now, actually.”

“Yay!!!!! Dazzle them with your
impenetrable web knowledge!!!!”

“Ha. It’s a done deal.”

She smiled.

 
“Hey.”

“Yes!!!!!!?”
she responded, still grinning.

“I am very excited to see you
though. Exclamation point.”

She laughed aloud and dropped her phone back in her bag, loving
New Orleans even more.

Chapter
2

An hour later, she was sprawled on the white sheets of the hotel’s
king-sized bed, contemplating the ceiling. She closed her eyes and tried to
relax, even though her thoughts were swirling.
 
This was her first major assignment and
she didn’t want to mess it up.
 
Her
phone buzzed again and she reached into her pocket, reluctantly opening her
eyes to squint at the message.

“I’ve been thinking ‘bout you
lately/Thoughts take me to when we were close, addicted to your love, feel I
need another dose…”

She smiled and hit the dial button.

“Common, ‘I Want You,’” she said confidently the second she heard
the phone click on.

Brian’s low bass chuckle filled the receiver and she grinned.

“What’s up, Tweety Bird,” he greeted her, a smile in his voice.

She laughed and rolled onto her stomach, eyeing the large framed painting
of the cobbled streets of St. Charles place.

“Did you get the job?” she asked excitedly without preamble.

“Come downstairs and I’ll tell you,” he said.

“You’re here already? We weren’t supposed to meet for another hour
and a half.”

She jumped up and sniffed under her arms. She definitely needed a
quick shower. Armand made sure of that with his driving antics.
 

“I know, but I got done earlier than I thought so I decided to
just go ahead and come now.”

“So, that’s good, right? That you got finished early? It means you
got the job, right?” She pulled her carry-on up on the bed and opened it. He
laughed again.

“Just hurry up. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

She grabbed her makeup bag and toiletries and headed for the
bathroom.
 

“Just come up, dork,” she said, flicking on the bathroom light.
“Room four thirty-seven. I’ll leave the door cracked. I gotta hop in the
shower.”

He hesitated for a
second and Destiny frowned.
“What’s wrong with you, weirdo? I’m leaving the door unlocked.”

She quickly clicked the phone off and shook her head. After making
sure the door was unlocked, she hurried to the bathroom and turned on the
shower. She didn’t know why Brian was acting weird about coming up to her
room.
 
It’s not like they’d never
shared a room and even a bed together before.

 
She stepped into the
shower and forced herself to do a quick wash up instead of relaxing under the
steady stream of water like she normally did. A few minutes later she heard the
TV click on and knew Brian must have arrived. She turned the water off and
quickly got out and dried off before slathering on some lotion and pulling her
simple, yellow cotton sundress over her head. She brushed her thick, curly hair
back up into a ponytail and applied some eyeliner and lip-gloss. She studied
her almond-shaped eyes, full lips, and rounded cheek bones in the mirror for a
second, unconsciously running her finger over the tiny freckle that dotted the
space just to the right of her chin.

 
Deciding she looked
decent enough, she hurriedly pushed open the door, the steam from her shower
following as she stepped into the room. Brian was sitting in the striped green
and beige hotel chair, his back to her, facing the television. He stopped
flipping the channels when he heard the door open and turned toward her.

“Did you get the job?” she said immediately, not even bothering
with a greeting.

He laughed and stood, leaning against the back of the chair.

“Yes, Tweety, I got the job,” he answered, grinning.

She squealed and ran across the room, throwing her arms around his
neck. He returned her embrace, wrapping her in his arms.

“Yay!” she said, doing a little dance as she hugged him. “Say it…
‘yay!’ We’re not on chat anymore.”

He laughed heartily and shook his head at her, his eyes glinting
with amusement. “It’s even less manly to say it in conversation, Tweet.”

She sighed dramatically and he chuckled again. He pulled back a
little, looking her in the eyes.

“Hi,” he said, fixing her with his signature half-grin.

“Hi.” She smiled up at him.

He kissed her cheek and brushed the tip of her nose with his index
finger, like he frequently did. She was pretty sure it was the kind of thing
you would do to a puppy, but because it was Brian, she didn’t mind. She hugged
him again, letting him pick her up effortlessly off the ground this time. She
smiled up at him when he set her back down. He looked… different.

“You look different,” she blurted out.

He chuckled and backed up, seating himself on the edge of the
chair.

“Different?” he questioned cocking an eyebrow at her.

She nodded. His face had stubble. That was new. His hair was cut
short; that wasn’t new but the look in his eyes was. He looked… older. Or
something. More intense than usual. His eyes had always been what girls talked
about the most, especially in high school. They contrasted his mocha complexion
and were just a shade lighter than dark brown; not nearly light enough to be
hazel, but distinctive enough to notice their color on a second or third
glance.

And he even smelled new. Like soap and spice and… man. She shook
her head at herself for being weird enough to notice his smell. He had on khaki
shorts and a short sleeved green plaid button-up, which also wasn’t new. He’d
always kept his own style, even when all the other guys his age were in their
hipster-skater phase. His tattoo, however, was new.

“Brian! You got a tattoo?” she asked in surprise, raising an
eyebrow. She ran her fingers lightly over his well-defined bicep, studying the
word “NEEMA.”

‘’‘Undeserved favor,’” he answered her unspoken question. “It’s
grace in Swahili.”

“It’s so dope,” she murmured, studying the design more closely,
running her fingers over the curves of the creatively drawn letters.

Each letter was bold and artful, almost like a design within
itself and they curved into a circle that together, resembled the sun. It was
beautiful.

“This really is dope,” she said again.

“Remember Jeff Lincoln from high school?” he asked.

She nodded. At the time he was by far the best visual artist in
the school. The administration was always asking him to do murals.

“He did it. He has a tattoo shop now.”

“Well, it’s really…”

“Dope?” he finished, playfully.

He smiled as she stared at him again, trying to place what it was
about him that was throwing her off.

“You have hair,” she finally said.

He laughed again, shaking his head at her. “Um, yeah. I’ve always
had hair, Tweet.”

“You know what I mean, dork,” she said, slapping at his shoulder.

“I see you’re still violent,” he said chuckling. “And that you
still have a problem with name-calling.”

She rolled her eyes and ignored him.

“You know this is the longest we’ve ever gone in life without
seeing each other in person. Skyping a couple of times doesn’t count. You just
look… I dunno. Something.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a writer,” he teased her,
fixing his half grin on her. “You can’t think of an adjective?”

His eyes were amused. She bit her lip and shook her head, a grin
on her face.

“You look different too,” he finally said, “in a good way.”

She wrinkled her brow.

“What are you saying? You expected me to look different in a bad
way?”

He sighed and fixed her with another one of his looks.

“You’re so extra,” he said, his bass voice filled with laughter.

“Now who’s the name-caller?” she replied, staring at him
pointedly.

“‘Extra’ isn’t a name,” he countered quickly, still grinning at
her.
 

They stared at each other for a long minute. His eyes were still
amused with a hint of something else she couldn’t quite read. Not that it surprised
her. Brian always had concealed his thoughts well. It threw a lot of people off
because he rarely gave away anything with his expression. It’s why even though
he wasn’t overly aggressive, people tended to leave him alone. People feared
what they couldn’t figure out. Brian just had a look about him. Something in
his eyes that said beneath his calm he could be dangerous if necessary. She
knew from first-hand experience it was the truth.

He was just as protective with his words as he was with his expressions.
He wasn’t shy at all, but it was almost as if he was allotted a certain number
of words per day and he had to use them carefully, saving them for people and
situations that really mattered. As she got older she realized that was a rare
trait. Most people loved to hear themselves talk, offering their opinions on
things that either didn’t concern them or were outside of their ranges of
intelligence. The realization made her appreciate Brian more.
 

Suddenly, she realized she was pretty much still standing in
between his long legs and quickly stepped back. He was a little over six feet
and since she was only five foot three he kind of dwarfed her.

“So, what is this job exactly?” she asked, releasing a breath and
crossing the room to the desk to grab her bag and slip on her sandals.

“It’s for the same position I’m in now, basically—just
better pay and obviously a new location,” he answered, following as she headed
toward the door.

She slipped her hotel key into her bag and soundly shut the door
behind her.

“I’m so excited for you,” she said again, heading toward the
elevators.

Given his situation at home, he was supposed to be a statistic.
His mom was a recovering addict and his dad had never been in the picture. Not
a lot of people knew about what he went through growing up. Brian wasn’t the
type to broadcast anything and he’d always kept it together. His grades were
always good. He played ball. He didn’t even get into fights often. The few
times that he did, he’d beat the guys up so badly nobody else was inclined to
mess with him. And now he was a web developer with a career that was more
promising than hers. She glanced at him and smiled.

 
“I’m kind of jealous
you get to live here though,” she admitted.
 

“Actually, I won’t be living here. The owners are out here doing
business so they thought it would be cool to do the interview here.”

She wrinkled her brow and looked at him.

“That’s a little weird,” she said as they walked slowly down the
hall.

“Yeah, they’re young and tryin’ to be cool, I guess,” he shrugged.
“They thought it would be good for me to fly here. The company is actually
pretty small.”

 
“So, where are they
based?” she asked, readjusting her bag strap on her shoulder. She rarely
carried an actual purse; they were too small to fit her recorder, note pads,
and camera in it.

“In Miami,” he said, halting a bit to gauge her reaction.

“What?” she practically screamed, her eyes growing huge as
saucers.

 
She quickly looked
around to make sure nobody heard her yelling like a lunatic. An old lady was
making her way down the opposite hall but didn’t seem to be paying them any
attention.