Date With Destiny

by Mason Dixon

  She and Jackie invited Rashida to lunch, but Rashida said she was about to head into a meeting. Harry had mentioned something about trying to broker a deal with a mortgage company in South Carolina. Since it didn’t directly affect her plans, Destiny had only been half paying attention.

  “Change of plans,” Jackie said after Rashida and her cohorts disappeared inside the elevator. “I’ll show you around the building after we have lunch. Give me five minutes to grab my purse, visit the ladies’ room, and put these forms in the interoffice mail.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you out front.” Destiny used the respite to make a phone call. “Can you talk?” she asked when Harry picked up.

  “I think you know full well I can’t. Make it quick. My meeting’s about to start.”

  “I need to see you tonight.”

  Destiny heard the background noise diminish as Harry undoubtedly moved away from the rest of the group to avoid being overheard. “I thought you didn’t want to risk our being seen together.”

  “I changed my mind. We need to talk. Can you meet me tonight at seven?”

  “I’ll be there with bells on. Panties, I hope, are optional.”

  Destiny hung up when she saw Jackie approach. She intentionally peppered her new boss with so many questions during lunch and afterwards that the subject of having her fingerprints taken didn’t arise. Shortly after five, she bade Jackie good-bye and headed to a pawn shop on Broughton Street, where she dropped two hundred dollars on a secondhand video camera not much bigger than a deck of playing cards.

  In the house on 37th Street, she made a brief recording and tested the camera’s playback before she searched for a place to hide her new purchase. Harry would probably try to move their meeting from the living room to the bedroom, but Destiny was determined to keep her mind on business, not the boudoir. Harry’s half-assed scheme was starting to circle the drain. Destiny intended to try to talk her into pulling the plug, but if Harry insisted on pushing forward, she needed an insurance policy to wrap herself in. She needed to negate Harry’s advantage and level the playing field.

  She hid the camera in plain sight, tucking it between a pile of books stacked on top of the TV. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the small recording device and its all-seeing lens, but she doubted Harry would be able to detect its presence because she wouldn’t be looking for it. She placed a piece of duct tape over the red power indicator to add additional camouflage.

  Harry rang the bell at seven fifteen. Destiny pressed Record on the camera before she headed to the door. Harry hustled inside as if she had someone on her tail. “I knew there was a reason I don’t come to this neighborhood,” she said with an overly dramatic shudder.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Yes, you may.” Harry corrected Destiny’s grammatical error with the fervor of an especially tough English teacher. “I’ll have a glass of wine if you have it, beer if you don’t.”

  “Is chardonnay okay?”

  “You know what I like.”

  Harry trailed a finger down Destiny’s arm. Destiny’s skin crawled at her touch. The more time she spent around Harry, the less she liked her. Or did Harry simply pale in comparison to Rashida? Harry was cold and calculating, Rashida warm and openhearted. For Destiny, the choice was clear. She pointed to the couch.

  “Take a load off. I’ll be right back.”

  In the kitchen, she poured two glasses of wine and tried to organize her plan of attack. First and foremost, she needed to keep her cool. If she played this right, she’d have the upper hand instead of being pinned under Harry’s thumb. What would happen if Harry discovered the camera? Nothing. Harry couldn’t go to the police without implicating herself. She wouldn’t last a day in jail. Destiny could pull a long stretch without breathing hard, but she’d seen the inside of enough cells to last a lifetime and didn’t plan on seeing any more.

  She had made up her mind. She was going to play it straight from now on. She never thought she’d be one of those clock punchers who lived paycheck to paycheck, but she was tired of looking over her shoulder to see who might be trying to stab her in the back. The life she used to lead was over. All she had left to do was tackle the impossible task of getting Harry to see things her way.

  She carried the glasses of wine to the living room and handed one to Harry, who took a sip and gave her a small nod of approval. She dutifully took a seat after Harry patted the spot next to her on the couch.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” Harry said. “It’s a far cry from the dump I repossessed a few months ago.”

  Destiny looked around at the flea market finds and import store purchases she had amassed over the previous two weeks. The collection produced a funky but eclectic vibe she was proud to call her own.

  “How’s the view from the bedroom?” Harry placed her hand on Destiny’s knee and slowly slid it up her leg. “Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? Based on the pictures you sent, I’d say no. Nice job, by the way. I had no idea Rashida was so photogenic.” She moved closer. “I’d like to re-create the scenes from the pictures. Without the camera, of course.”

  Keeping her eyes from straying to the video camera a few feet away, Destiny grabbed Harry’s hand before it could dive bomb toward her crotch. “That isn’t why I invited you here.”

  “Too bad. What did you want to talk about?”

  “Jackie Williams wants to take my fingerprints.”

  “Why?” Harry looked genuinely stunned, a sure sign she hadn’t anticipated the unexpected complication.

  “She says it’s standard procedure for all Low Country Savings employees.”

  “Since when?” Harry tried to play off her obvious unease. “I guess I should pay closer attention during employee meetings.”

  “This is no joking matter, Harry. This shit is serious.”

  “You don’t see me laughing, do you? I’ll take care of Jackie. You stay focused on Rashida.” Scowling, Harry patted the air with her hand as if she was trying to tell Destiny to keep her cool when she was the one who had obviously lost hers. “Someone as skilled as you are shouldn’t have too much trouble in that regard.”

  Destiny tried to combat the jealousy she thought she heard in Harry’s voice. “I was doing my job. The one you hired me to do.”

  Harry smirked. “I’m so glad you enjoy your work.”

  Destiny didn’t know how much footage the tiny digital camera could hold. She needed to get to the point before the storage disk ran out of memory. “I’ve been having second thoughts. Your plan is a good one, but I don’t think it’s such a good idea to hit the bank. The heat’s on right now. We need to lay low for a while or call the whole thing off.”

  “We’ll never have a better opportunity than the one we’re being afforded. St. Patrick’s Day offers the perfect cover. The branch will be closed so we’ll have the place to ourselves. We can blend in with the crowd during our getaway. As for witnesses, forget it. Everyone will be too drunk to remember their own names, let alone be competent enough to provide accurate descriptions of five people they’ve never seen before. The security company will call after I disable the alarms, but I’ll come up with an excuse to keep them from sending the police to check on the building. No one will discover the money’s missing until Monday morning, which will give us a three-day head start. By the time someone realizes what we’ve done, I’ll be long gone.”

  “You mean we, don’t you? We’ll be long gone.”

  “Of course.” Harry’s smile looked as artificial as her hair color. “You didn’t think I’d leave you behind, did you?”

  Destiny wouldn’t put it past her. “You’re betraying your own parents. Why should I be any different?”

  Harry’s eyes flashed. “You accept me for who I am. They don’t. Which is why I don’t understand their eagerness to anoint Rashida Ivey as the chosen one. How could they pass over their own flesh and blood for someone outside the family? They barely talk to me, but they can’t
stop raving about her. We both like pussy. What makes her so much better in their eyes?”

  “She doesn’t hide who she is. You do.”

  “I know who I am, but it’s no one’s business who I like to fuck besides me and the person I’m fucking.” Harry looked at her hard. “All this talk about changing the plan has me concerned. You’re not getting cold feet, are you? I can count on you, can’t I?”

  The steeliness in Harry’s voice made Destiny’s blood run cold. For the first time, she saw the person behind the mask. The sight shook her to her core. She held up her hands in mock surrender.

  “I’m on your side, remember? I’m just trying to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “If you continue to do exactly what I tell you to do, everything will be fine. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to do some things I don’t want to do.”

  “Such as?”

  “Let’s see if I remember this correctly.” Harry tapped a finger against her lips as if she was trying to jog her memory. “As a condition of your early release from prison on your most recent charge, you were supposed to serve six months of parole. During that time, you were not allowed to leave the state of Florida or associate with known criminals. Traveling to Savannah and reaching out to the members of your old team constitutes not one but two parole violations. Enough to send you back to jail for quite some time. If you give me reason to question your dedication to me or the plans we’ve made, I’ll be forced to give your parole officer a call and let him know where he can locate you. Then I’ll find someone else to take your place. On this team and in my bed. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly.”

  With or without her, Low Country Savings was going to be robbed on Friday. With her, Rashida might have a chance of coming out relatively unscathed. Without her, anything might happen.

  Looks like I might have to put off retirement for a few more days.

  Harry patted her cheek as if she were scratching a puppy between the ears. “As much as I’d love to stay, I’m afraid I have to leave you. Jared and I are having some people over.”

  Destiny flashed back to the night she’d met Jared. When she and one of the studs she knew zeroed in on him and Harry in a club in South Beach. She and Ahmad had followed them back to their hotel. Judging from the sounds drifting from the adjoining room, Ahmad had shown Jared the time of his life. She was still unclear on his role in the break-in—if he had one—but she wasn’t in position to ask questions. She walked Harry to the door.

  “If this goes wrong, don’t forget all this was your idea.”

  Harry smiled. “When it goes right, don’t forget you’ll have me to thank.”

  Destiny watched Harry walk to her car. After the Hummer pulled away from the curb, she retrieved the camera from its hiding place and pressed Play. Both the images and sound were crystal clear. She had a perfect recording of Harry conspiring to commit a felony. But was it enough? Harry was so determined to punish her parents and embarrass Rashida, Destiny doubted anything could stop her from trying. Not even the evidence on the tape.

  Defeated, Destiny stashed the camera in the small fireproof safe she’d hidden in the back of her closet. She kept the key to the safe on a chain she wore around her neck. The safe held the ticket to her future.

  She counted the growing stack of bills. She’d tucked away almost fifteen grand. Not enough to live on, but more than enough to begin life anew. She could disappear and start fresh. But she couldn’t leave. Not like this.

  Sitting on the floor of a house she didn’t own, pining for a life she couldn’t have, she felt trapped between a woman she was starting to fear and one she was starting to care for. Greed had gotten her into this mess, but only one thing could get her out of it. Love.

  She put the money away, pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, and called Rashida. Not because it was part of the con but because she wanted to hear her voice. Talking with her—being with her—was the only part of this whole thing that felt real, even though it was anything but.

  Destiny leaned her head against the closet door. She imagined Rashida in her business suit and heels, poring over reports or planning a hostile takeover like Donald Trump with better hair. Destiny liked seeing a sister so strong and in charge. She didn’t want to see her taken down. She wanted to see how far she could go. And she wanted to take the journey with her.

  “Rashida Ivey.”

  Destiny felt herself break into a goofy grin like a lovesick schoolgirl. “You don’t have to sound so professional. Work is over for the day.”

  “How may I help you?”

  Rashida was determined to play by the rules. Destiny wished she could make her see the rules didn’t matter. With Rashida’s book smarts and her street smarts, they could be so good together if given a chance. She had to make her see that—if only for a few days.

  “Brr. Is it chilly in here or is it just me?”

  “I’m sorry,” Rashida said with a tired sigh. “Long day at the office. How was your first day?”

  Destiny smiled at the appreciable thaw. “I signed so many forms I think I have writer’s cramp. If you’re not busy, maybe you could rub out the kinks.”

  “That’s an appetizing idea, but it and others like it are off the table.” Rashida’s voice grew frosty again. “We’re co-workers now.”

  “Which means?” She knew perfectly well what it meant, but she wanted to hear Rashida say it.

  “What happened between us was a…one-time thing.” Rashida fell just short of calling it a mistake.

  “What if I said once wasn’t enough?”

  “I’d be flattered, but I wouldn’t change my mind.”

  “You will.”

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

  “There are only a few things I’m sure of. One of them is one night of feeling you underneath me is not enough.”

  She heard Rashida’s breath catch. Was she replaying their night together, scenes that ran through her own head in an endless loop?

  “Contract or no contract, I want to be with you, Rashida, and I know you feel the same way. You’ve already said as much. Now tell me. When can I see you again?”

  “No, Destiny. Stop.” Rashida’s voice was firm as she drew a line in the sand. A line she refused to cross no matter how hard Destiny pushed. “Yes, I wish things could be different. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. I accepted your decision to take the job. I need you to accept mine.”

  “Which one? Your decision to sleep with me or your decision to ignore how I made you feel? Our connection wasn’t just physical, was it? That night meant something to you. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t find it so hard to be in the same room with me.”

  Rashida’s silence gave Destiny hope her argument had proved convincing.

  “Destiny, I can’t keep doing this with you. I won’t keep doing this with you. If there’s nothing else I can help you with, I will see you at work. And, please, don’t call me again. Good night.”

  Rashida hung up before Destiny could protest. Rashida’s reasons for saying no were clear-cut. Destiny’s reasons for wanting her to say yes were not quite as transparent.

  Rashida made her want things she had never dared dream. She wanted a life far different from her own. She wanted a life free of deception. She wanted a life with Rashida. She wanted to see her smile and make her laugh. She wanted to protect her from harm and kiss away the hurt if she found it anyway. She wanted to hear her say, “I love you,” and feel free to say it in return.

  She knew she couldn’t have any of those things. Once Rashida discovered who she really was and what she had been hired to do, she’d never forgive her, let alone love her.

  Still, her foolish heart dared dream. Would Rashida’s heart, once exposed to the truth, dare to listen?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Friday, March 10

  8:45 p.m.

  Savannah, GA

  Club One tonight at nine. Our mutual friend will be there. Get her back on board. />
  Destiny listened to Harry’s voice mail message with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She had been trying to get Rashida back on board for three days to no avail. Harry’s carefully laid plans were in increasing jeopardy. Fuck the plans. Destiny wanted Rashida in her life, plain and simple. Each time Rashida rebuffed one of her advances, the rejection bruised her ego and dented her heart. A busted ego she could take. A tender heart was something new.

  She had never cared what people thought of her before. Why was she starting to care now? Take yesterday, for example. She had seen Tony perform his attempted sleight of hand with the money from the vault but hadn’t thought he’d be dumb enough to think he could actually get away with it. When she had concocted the story that directed Rashida where to look, she had tried to convince herself she was protecting her investment. Trying to stop someone from taking money out of her pocket. But the appreciative look and sincere thanks Rashida had given her after the attempted crime was solved were even better than the payoff she stood to receive next week. The praise had made her feel like part of a team. Like she and Rashida were on the same side. Like her assumed identity had taken on a life of its own. Like she had proven herself worthy of respect.

  “You proved you could be trusted,” she said, addressing her image in the bathroom mirror. “How will she react when you show you can’t?”

  During their celebratory dinner at a barbecue restaurant, Rashida had revealed facets of her personality Destiny had been previously unaware of. Her passion for Asian food seemed to denote a love affair with the culture itself, not just a fondness for the cuisine. Destiny could picture Rashida equally at home on the streets of Beijing or Tokyo as she was on the thoroughfares of Savannah. She could imagine her looking just as good rocking a sleeveless Mandarin collar dress as she did one of her power suits. Destiny wanted to peel her out of both. Lay her down and make love to her with no ulterior motives in mind. To come together as one and remain that way for as long as Rashida would have her.