Just My Type Read online

  Thank you for downloading this Simon & Schuster ebook.

  * * *

  Get a FREE ebook when you join our mailing list. Plus, get updates on new releases, deals, recommended reads, and more from Simon & Schuster. Click below to sign up and see terms and conditions.

  CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP

  Already a subscriber? Provide your email again so we can register this ebook and send you more of what you like to read. You will continue to receive exclusive offers in your inbox.

  Just My Type

  Synithia Williams

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2014 by Synithia Williams.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  57 Littlefield Street

  Avon, MA 02322

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-8234-3

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8234-9

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-8233-5

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8233-2

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 123RF/Andriy Popov

  Acknowledgments

  They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well, it takes a great group of people to polish a book. Many thanks to Liv Rancourt and K.M. Jackson for asking the questions about Freddy and Janiyah that made me dig a little deeper into their characters. And a huge thank you to Jess Verdi for sending back editing questions that really made me think. All of that thinking really made this book shine. Thank you to all of the readers who’ve pushed me along and asked when the next book was coming. You guys kept me going when I thought about hanging up the writing cap. And, as always, thank you to my husband, my biggest supporter as I blunder my way through this part of my life.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  About the Author

  More from This Author

  Also Available

  CHAPTER 1

  Janiyah Henderson sang along with Bruno Mars about sex and paradise as she swung her yellow Camaro into the driveway of her parents’ three-story brick home. She was there for another random family meeting. Another chance for her dad to evaluate his children’s lives. Another chance for all of them to somehow disappoint him.

  She wasn’t overly concerned about disappointing her father. Her dad loved his kids; he just didn’t quite understand them. His disappointment never came with threats to disown them, or rants about them ruining his legacy. Instead it was entwined with bafflement that his kids had grown up to be the complete opposite of him. Janiyah was pretty sure he still expected the four of them to one day miraculously evolve into the Cosby kids.

  She glanced at the time and cringed. This impromptu family thing was going to make her late meeting her friend Liz. They were going to the young professionals mixer. Not a party, but a place where bankers, accountants, bureaucrats, and other nine-to-five clones met to “network.” Janiyah called it for what it was: an excuse for people under forty to drink and flirt under the pretense of doing business.

  She didn’t attend the mixers regularly. As a virtual assistant, she wasn’t a part of the normal nine-to-five crowd. She loved the flexibility of her job. Working on a variety of projects, talking to clients on the phone from her living room while wearing pajamas, and completing an assignment in the middle of the night as she indulged in infomercials which made her aware of items she’d never realized she had to own immediately. That was ten times better than stuffy business suits, rigid work hours, and days full of meetings.

  She was only going because Liz had begged her to come and break up the monotony. And since Janiyah couldn’t deny attending a party, even if it was a suit and tie party, she’d agreed. Janiyah had bet Liz fifty dollars that she’d make it to this event on time. That was before her dad called his family meeting. She was going to be handing over that fifty if she didn’t get out of here in under thirty minutes.

  After putting the car into park, she reached into the back seat to grab the red dress still wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaners. Picking up her black clutch and patent leather heels she got out of the car and continued singing as she strutted up the drive, past the vehicles that belonged to her brothers, to the front door.

  She sang to herself as she breezed through the door and hurried down the tastefully decorated entryway into the main gathering place. Her brothers were already situated around the large sunken living area. It was her favorite part of the house. So cozy and welcome with leather couches, an entertainment system that was really more a home theatre, and a wet bar in the corner.

  The oldest, Kareem, sat on the floor in front of the large wraparound sofa. Headphones covered his ears as he sketched in a notebook. His shoulder length dreadlocks were pulled back in a ponytail, and he was dressed in his standard all black—something he’d started after getting out of jail several years ago. He’d tried to redeem himself by opening his own barber shop, but it wasn’t like jail was something the family could easily forget. He glanced up when she walked in, and threw up his hand as a greeting. A quirk of his lips that made the scar along his upper lip twitch was his attempt at a smile.

  David, the middle brother, was on his phone in a corner; the smile on his face meant he was probably talking to a woman. He leaned against the wall like a Ralph Lauren model with his perfectly faded hair, neatly trimmed beard, and wrinkle free grey three piece suit. Seeing David dressed nicely wasn’t anything new. Her brother always left the house as if he had a photo shoot. He’d taken up the reins of Henderson Automotive, the family business, after Kareem went to jail, but quickly discovered that the pressure to run the business the way their dad wanted it done didn’t leave room for anything else.

  Janiyah grinned when she saw the youngest brother, Aaron, on one of the couches. They’d talked a few times during the week while she helped him with the final touches for a business proposal he needed, but she hadn’t seen him in over a month. His fingers furiously went across the keyboard of his laptop as he spoke on his cell phone. He ran a hand through the short twists on his head and frowned.

  He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Janiyah.” The voice on the other end of his cell picked up. “Good, then try that route. We can’t mess up our first haul with this provider.”

  For Aaron to be that agitated he had to be talking to one of his drivers. He’d dropped out of college and started driving big rigs. Which would have been crazy if he hadn’t turned that need to roam
into his own trucking business.

  Well, the gang’s all here. The reformed, the martyr, the roamer, and her: the baby. At least her brothers appeared just an unconcerned about the impromptu meeting as she was.

  She turned to go upstairs at the same time her dad came down. Roger Henderson’s light brown eyes filled with affection. Tall and thin, with reddish brown skin and graying hair, her dad was a handsome sixty something gentleman. She’d never seen him in jeans, and today was no different: slacks, golf shirt, and loafers.

  “Hey, Daddy,” she said, giving him a quick hug. The comforting fragrance of Old Spice and Dax moisturizer surrounded her.

  “Hey, baby girl.” She may not be as sweet as one of the Cosby kids, but her dad always sounded like seeing her was the highlight of his day. “Now that you’re here we can get started.”

  “Just give me a few minutes to change,” she said, going up the stairs.

  “You’re already ten minutes late.” The familiar bafflement entered his voice. “I have something important to talk to you about.”

  “Okay, just a second, I promise. Go ahead and start with the guys and fill me in later.” She reached the top of the stairs and rushed down the hall to her old room while humming the lyrics from the song.

  She tossed the dress on the bed, still covered in the pink and green comforter she’d had as a teenager, and crossed the room to the adjoining bathroom. There was a knock on the bedroom door soon after she took her clothes off in the bathroom.

  “Janiyah, hurry up, your father is waiting,” her mom’s voice called.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” she called from the bathroom.

  “I don’t understand you kids. Your dad calls a family meeting and none of you are showing any type of interest.”

  With a sigh, Janiyah hurried to get dressed. She opened the door and met her mom’s frustrated gaze. “I’ve just got to put on makeup.”

  Loretta Henderson looked regal in a deep purple wrap shirt and black slacks. The frown on Janiyah’s mom’s heart-shaped face didn’t take away from her poise and beauty. The complete opposite of Janiyah, Loretta was rarely ruffled, arranged tasteful dinner parties, and remembered to send a thank you card to the mail man at Christmas.

  Her mom’s expression became pensive. “Do you have another date?”

  “No, I’m meeting Liz for a party.”

  Her mom didn’t relax. “Well, that’s not much better.”

  “You see, most mothers want their daughters to date.” She came out of the bathroom and grabbed her makeup bag off the bed.

  “I would if I thought you were doing it seriously and not for fun.”

  “I’m not dating for fun. There’s nothing wrong with going to dinner or a movie with an interesting guy when he asks,” Janiyah said, though she’d repeated this to her mom a hundred times. “Besides, casual dating does not mean casual sex.”

  “Oh, Janiyah, please,” Loretta said, waving her hands as if to shoo the words away.

  “Well, it’s true. You’ll be happy to know most guys don’t make it past one date.”

  “Maybe they would, if you dated some really nice guys,” Loretta said. “Like that music teacher. I liked him, but all of a sudden he was out of the picture.”

  “Out of the picture because he thought I was only good for one thing.” You’re a joke, Janiyah. The words he’d uttered right before they broke up played in her mind. She pushed them aside.

  Loretta grunted and scowled. “To hell with him then.”

  Janiyah grinned and kissed her mother’s cheek. Loretta didn’t play when it came to someone disrespecting her kids. “My words exactly.”

  “Enough of this,” Loretta said, effectively changing the conversation away from Janiyah’s dating life. “I’d better see you heading down those stairs in five minutes.”

  Janiyah hurried back into the bathroom. “I’ll be there in four. Promise.”

  Her mom’s “What am I going to do with you?” came through the door.

  “Love me,” she called back.

  Fifteen minutes later, she’d put on makeup, teased the riot of curls she’d forced her shoulder length hair into, and donned her dress. When she came downstairs, her dad was pacing the length of the family room. Kareem still sketched, David was checking his watch, and Aaron tapped his finger on his cell phone.

  “Ready to grace us with your presence?” her mom said with a raised eyebrow.

  Janiyah smiled and walked over to lean against the edge of the couch Aaron sat on. “I told you to get started.”

  “What are you dressed up for?” Aaron asked.

  “The young professionals mixer.”

  “And you’re wearing a red dress?” She couldn’t tell if there was admiration or disbelief in his voice. She decided to go with admiration.

  Janiyah straightened and brushed the edges of her outfit. The off shoulder cotton dress fit her upper body like a glove and flared out into a mini skirt. The instant she’d seen it at a consignment store the week before she knew she had to buy it.

  “Red is bold,” she said.

  “And bright,” David said from across the room.

  Her dad held up his hands. “That’s enough. I didn’t call you all here to waste time talking about Janiyah’s dress.”

  “Do you like my dress, Daddy?”

  “You shouldn’t wear red to a professional event,” he said.

  Not surprising. Roger was old school through and through. To him, work meant getting up every day and going to an actual location. Which meant he thought Janiyah’s job as a virtual assistant was a real as Super Mario’s Mushroom Kingdom.

  Janiyah’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Liz. I’m almost there, how far are you? She cringed and glanced at her dad. “Can you fill me in on the details of this meeting later? I really gotta go.”

  David stood. “I’ve got someone waiting on me, too.”

  Aaron checked his phone. “And I really need to check on Joe to make sure he’s back on track.”

  “And I need to get back and close up the shop,” Kareem said, referring to his barber shop.

  They each made moves to escape before the lecture began. Any guilt she would have felt about skirting out early was kept at bay by her brothers’ attempts to leave as well.

  “I’m selling Henderson Automotive,” Roger said over the sound of his kids’ escape attempt.

  Janiyah swung around. Aaron plopped back into his chair. David looked as if he’d been slapped. Her mind swirled with dozens of questions, but the main one was why would he even say something like that? Her dad had started Henderson Automotive in the seventies. Through hard work and dedication, he’d turned a struggling used car dealership into a successful franchise with five locations. He always said the business was like one of his kids. Now suddenly he wanted to sell it. It made no sense.

  Though she’d never aspired to take an active role in the business, not wanting to work there didn’t mean she didn’t want it in the family.

  “What are you talking about? I run the business,” David said in a tight voice.

  “Not for much longer,” Roger replied.

  “Why would you sell it?” Aaron blurted out when David looked ready to argue. “You’ve preached to us for years about the importance of the legacy you built. Now you’re ready to let it go?”

  Roger crossed his arms; he suddenly looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I started Henderson Automotive with the hope that one of you would take over, but none of you are interested in that.”

  David stepped forward. “I’ve busted my butt for years to help out.”

  “No, you’ve sacrificed yourself,” Roger said slowly, as if he regretted saying the words. “You don’t really want to be there,”

  “Who are you selling to?” Kareem asked. Surprising, since he was the one most adamant about not being involved with the dealerships.

  “I’ve got interest from a few other automotive groups. It’s time to settle things. Make sure
my hard work isn’t wasted.”

  “And you don’t trust us to do it?” David asked, not bothering to mask his scorn.

  Janiyah felt the tension in the room rise with each word. She didn’t know what to say to make things any easier. She agreed David wasn’t thrilled when he started working there, but he was as proud of it as she and the rest of her brothers. How could their dad just toss aside their family legacy to some strange company?

  Roger looked at each one of them. “Honestly, I don’t. Kareem doesn’t want anything to do with it, Aaron has his own business, you never wanted to run it, and Janiyah can’t. You all have your interests that I can help secure if I sell. It’ll put you three in a position to look after your mother and sister when I’m gone.”

  Janiyah froze. Hold up, did he just say Janiyah can’t? “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. “Why can’t I run the business?” True, she’d never wanted to. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t.

  “Baby girl, I love you to death, but you’re not cut out for it; you don’t really work,” her dad said.

  “I do work,” she said slowly. “I’m a virtual assistant.”

  “That’s not a real job.” He said it as if it were some universal truth. Like ‘the sky is blue’ or ‘it snows in winter’.

  “It is a real job. I make money.”

  “And I supplement your income. Who’s going to do that if I’m gone? You’re not trying to find a husband.”

  Holy crap, now he was throwing in the husband card. This meeting had gone from inconvenience to pure B.S. in no time. “Number one,” she held up a finger, “you supplement my income because I let you. Number two,” she held up another finger, “what does my marital state have to do with any of this?”

  “I admire the fact that you’ve tried to start your own business. I’ll even admit that you might make enough money doing your online stuff, but let’s face it, Janiyah, you’re not ready to have a real job.”

  She threw out her hands. “Where in the world is this coming from? Just because I don’t want to be another corporate America clone doesn’t mean I couldn’t make it there.”