That broad was fucked up in the head. She could stay delusional if she wanted to. As long as my seed was good, shecould talk to mutha fucking walls if it felt right to her. I didn’t give any fucks.
“Are you leaving for the day, Mr.Banks?” Monice, my shift leader, asked, poking her head into my office.
”Yeah, we finna leave soon. If y’all need me, call my phone, but only if that shit is important. I wanna chill with my little nigga in peace.”
”Yes, sir.” Monice smiled at me lustfully as she always did.
I fucked a few times when she first got hired, but once I promoted her to shift lead, I let her know us fucking was over. She seemed cool with it. Aside from her flirting from time to time, other than that, she kept everything professional.
After I saw Big Frank with Clive and that unknown nigga, I couldn’t keep fucking with him on the business side. I didn’t trust him or the way he was moving. As the man that Big Frank raised, I had to cut ties with him on the business tip. I loved my dad, and the only way I could think to save our relationship was to separate myself from him. If it wasn’t family related, I didn't want to be involved when it came to Big Frank. My mama picked up on the tension, but she didn’t speak on it though. I think she was more happy I was getting out the streets. I had enough money to sit back and relax for a while. However, I wasn’t the type of nigga to sit on his ass with no money coming back in. I needed the money I spent to come back into my bank account just as fast as I spent it. I never thought about what I wanted to do outside of the street shit, and it took me a good six months to figure out what I was finna do. By chance, I drove past this old car wash that had been closed down for a minute. It had a for sale sign, and I said why the fuck not. That’s where I came up withDouble O’s Car Wash.
A nigga ain’t had to work as hard as I did to get my business of the ground. All the little details that went into opening a business, I wasn’t ready. At first I spent more money than Imade in my first year. I had my ass out there washing fucking cars. There wasn’t anything I didn’t do at my car wash. That was by design, I didn’t want to be one of them owners that didn’t know how to do anything. I was hands on with everything. A year and some change later, my car wash was popping. I was bringing in enough money to open up my second car wash on the other side of town. The money wasn’t the same as when I was working with my dad, but it would be soon.
“Come on, we finna get some food.” I talked to Forrest, and he gave me one of his toothy grins.
Carrying him, I made my way to my office door. Turning the knob to open the door, Monice had her hand raised to knock on my door.
“Mr. Banks, this gentleman was asking to speak with you.” She motionED to some white collar looking nigga standing behind her. “He said it’s urgent.”
“Tell that nigga I’m busy. He can leave a message with you.”
I knew the nigga could hear me. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever the nigga had to say. Since my business started making a profit, mutha fuckas from all over had been tryna buy me out, and I wasn’t going. I put in too much blood, sweat, and money to sell my car wash.
“Faheem Banks,” the nigga said, stepping to Monice’s right side. “You’ve been served,” he quickly said, shoving papers into my hand then running his scary ass back the way he came.
”The fuck,” I grumbled unfolding the papers. I threw the papers down once I finished scanning over the bullshit ass words. Leave it to Juniper’s ass to piss a nigga off.
I knew this day was coming, but a part of me didn’t believe it would happen. I had my mind made up on how the shit would go. Them divorce papers weren’t it. Her scary ass was supposed to bring me those papers herself. It was okay, though, she was gonna have to face a nigga sooner or later.
Chapter 27
Juniper Weaver
End of April, 2022
“I don’t like any of it,” Margret Snidley responded with a loathing expression.
”Good thing this isn’t your wedding. I love the red velvet and the vanilla,” I said to the baker who looked like she was two seconds from breaking out in tears.
I couldn’t blame her either. Dealing with Margret took a special type of person, and by special, I meant God because he was the one who loved all his children–despite how rude, mean, or evil they could be. Personally, I didn’t have any tolerance for Margret at all. When I say she never had anything nice to say, I was serious. Kojo’s parents had ever so graciously offered to pay for this wedding, not because they were thrilled for our upcoming nuptials. Margret wanted to control anything connected to her life which meant she wanted to be a part of every aspect of our wedding planning. She’d picked the venue, some park, even though I told her I’d preferred an indoor wedding. Then she decided the theme of our wedding wasclassical royalty. I had no idea what the hell she was going for with that. However, when Kojo sided with his mom, I threw the towel in. I let Margret plan this wedding like it was hers. I gave zero fucks about anything; I only showed up because it was the bridely thing to do, and I liked to piss Margret off when the opportunity came.
Since we’d arrived atBake & Cakea bakery, Margret insisted we come, claiming it was the best in town. The way she’d been showing her natural ass had me questioning her sanity. How do you demand to go to a specific place then turn around and act like it’s the worst bakery in the world? We’d tried almost twenty different cake flavors, and every last one of them were disgusting to her. Margret was just being a bitch, majority of the cakes were amazing. The few I didn’t like were because of personal flavors I didn’t care for. Nothing to do with the quality of the cakes. How Kevin, Kojo’s dad, stayed married to her for over thirty years amazed me. You couldn’t pay me to believe that man didn’t do drugs. That had to be the only someone who could put up with her ass everyday. Margret had the ability to piss off any and everyone she came into contact with. Even the preacher was ready to quit after his run in with Margret’s evil ass. She walked around face screwed up like a clenched ass hole, and hateful stuff was the only thing that came out her dirty ass mouth.
The more time I spent with Margret, I noticed where Kojo got some of his ways from. I hated to admit he took after his mom in one too many ways. Kojo was very critical about a lot of things, and at first, I thought it was his deep passion. When in reality, he was just negative as hell like his mammy. I had half a mind to tell her to marry him and let me go on my way, but my wedding was a few weeks away. It was too close for me to cancel for petty things. Kojo wasn’t all bad, he’d been there for me when most niggas would have left me high and dry. I suppose I owedit to him to give him a fair shot at love. Even if it meant dealing with his sour-ass faced mama.
“Too bad for you my husband is paying for this expensive ass wedding. So, I have the final say so on what is being paid for,” Margret condescendingly said while shooting me a dirty look across the table. With her nose turned up in the air, she looked at the nervous baker. “We’ll do the six tier cake with three strawberry layers and three chocolate layers. We want a traditional white wedding cake with minimal decorations.”
Of course, her evil ass picked the two flavors I liked the least. Scoffing, I tuned them out as Margret finalized all the details she wanted for the cake. This woman never ceased to amaze me. I had to get away from her. There was no way in hell I was finishing the planned day we had. Fuck them dress fittings, it was time for me to make my exit. Abruptly standing up, I picked my phone off the table, ignoring the daggers Margret was shooting at me and the curious eyes of the baker.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Margret snidely asked.
“Uhh, I forgot I had other obligations today. I’ll see you later,” I quickly replied, turning to leave.
”Excuse me? I am not taking you anywhere but to our fitting for our dresses. Did you forget we rode together?” Margret raised up to her feet smacking her hands on the table.
“I got two feet that will work just fine,” I smartly replied looking back over my shoulder. I wanted to laugh because Margret's light honey skin was beet red right now. She looked like a tomato about to explode.
“My son will not be pleased by this behavior once I call him and tell him about it. I’ve told him you are not the one. You aren’t taking this wedding serio-“
