And now, with this call from his brother, telling him that Racquel was in trouble, that she had a problem, Khalid stopped being busy.
“I’ll meet you there,” he responded to Tareef.
Khalid remembered where Mr. Alexander’s shop was even though Tareef texted him the address.
“What the hell happened?” Khalid asked as he met his brother in front of the barbershop. With the dawning of the morning sun, the damage to the Barber Experience was magnified tenfold.
“Robbery gone bad, man,” Tareef said, leaning against his brother’s BMW.
“At a barbershop?” Khalid questioned.
“Yeah, man, it’s a cash business,” Tareef affirmed.
“And they did all this?” Khalid asked, his eyes trailing back to the damage in front of him.
“Tore up everything, bro.”
“Where’s Racquel?”
“She and Naomi had to go to the precinct to answer questions. Naomi’s going to call me when they get done so I can pick them up.”
The two ladies sat in the investigator’s office, waiting for another officer to interview them.
“How’d you know,” Racquel asked, daring to place her father’s picture on the table in front of her.
“It’s crazy how it happened,” Naomi replied, balancing her chin on her palm as she rested her elbow on the table.
“You know I went out with Tareef.”
“Right, you told me that,” Racquel answered.
“Well, we were having a great time, just had dinner, enjoying each other’s company, and you crossed my mind.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you, and once I started thinking about you and the benefit and your dad, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So, there I was, trying to be all romantical with the man of my dreams, but my mind was back at the shop. So, before things went any further, I asked Tareef if he would swing me by because I wanted to make sure I had all the files I needed to make follow up calls. You were stressing out about it. I didn’t want that, so I wanted to make sure I had all my ducks in a row, so before you could ask a question, I would already have the answer. I didn’t want anything I was responsible for to be the cause of any undue stress for you. Tareef being the gentleman that he is, took me to the shop, and we found it like that.”
Racquel reached over and squeezed Naomi’s hand.
“You gave up getting some for me?”
Naomi looked at Racquel, who, for the first time all evening, had a slither of a slick smile on her lips.
“Mmhmm,” Naomi hummed. “And it was gonna be good, too.”
“Thanks, girl,” Racquel said as her head softly nodded.
“For what?”
“Because, I had no intention of going back to the shop until the morning of the event. If you hadn’t of gone by, some stranger would have maybe knocked on my door later today and broke the news to me or maybe not at all. Either way, I know now, so, thank you.”
For all the good it would do, at least she knew. There wasn’t a damn thing Racquel could do about it, not in enough time for the benefit, but eventually, she would. There was no way in hell the shop wouldn’t reopen bigger and better. She would make it happen. It might take six months, a year, it might take all of her savings, and she might have to take out another business loan if they didn’t consider her a risk, but whatever she had to do, Rocky would do it to restore her father’s legacy.
“Make sure you pick up the girls,” Khalid instructed Tareef. “Make sure Racquel lets you,” he added. “You know how difficult she can be. Call me when they’re safe. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Tareef didn’t even question what Khalid meant. He knew his brother.
Back at the station, Racquel had grown impatient with the officers and all their questions.
“I have security cameras. You should check them. Neither Naomi nor I was present when the damage was done. Your time is much better spent looking at my cameras and maybe even the cameras on the street. That’s where you’ll get your answers because we don’t have any.”
“I know this is frustrating, ma’am,” the officer explained. “But this is protocol in situations like this. Just a few more questions and I’ll let you ladies go.”
“Come on, Rock, we can do this,” Naomi encouraged even though she was as tired and as frustrated as her friend. “Just a few more questions.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Day of the Benefit
She had nothing to celebrate. Naomi was directed to make all the phone calls notifying participants of the cancellation of the Second Annual Charles Alexander Benefit. Racquel was too tired, mentally, emotionally, spiritually to do it. Racquel didn’t have the wherewithal to do anything but pull the covers over her head in her pitch-black room and block out the world. Her heart was broken. She didn’t intend to stay in that place for too long. She knew better than that. But Racquel also permitted herself not to be okay but only for a certain amount of time. She did that because it was too easy to languish in the dark place, to let all the hurt and sorrow completely take over like it had done before. She wasn’t going to let that happen again. Racquel knew her father wouldn’t want her to give up, to give in, to quit on herself.
So, she allowed herself a designated amount of time to be sad, and do nothing but be sad, because tomorrow, Racquel would get back to work, building her dad’s legacy. A part of not being on the grid was not answering her phone. Naomi called a few times to check in and make sure she was okay. Racquel let the calls go to voicemail. Naomi was aware of Racquel’s self-care process. That didn’t mean she honored it. But Racquel didn’t hold that against her. She knew without any doubt that Naomi would continue to disrespect Racquel’s self-induced boundaries. But that was okay. Rocky would forgive her because Naomi’s pesty behavior was out of love and concern. She would always forgive her.
Racquel’s phone rang again. She knew before she picked it up that it was Naomi, partly because there weren’t too many people that called her to start with, and it was about time for another check-in from her best friend. As before, Racquel let the call go to voicemail but listened even as she kept her head covered.
“I know I said this before, but you have to come to the shop, Rocky. Quickly!”
Racquel’s head lifted from the pillow, and she pushed the cover down off her head. What the hell? What could it be this time? The shop was already vandalized, the benefit was already canceled, what did they do now? Burn the place down? Racquel immediately pushed that thought from her mind and regretted, even putting that kind of imagery in the universe. Words have power, and she knew that implicitly. If there was a take-back feature on putting words and thoughts in the atmosphere, Rocky tried her best to activate it as she climbed out of her bed.
She wasn’t going to drag her feet, but there was a reluctance that she felt with having to return to the shop to see it in the condition it was. She wished she could just block it out. Racquel still hadn’t called the insurance company to report what happened. The police, she was sure, hadn’t given her the report to send to the insurance company. She needed to tell the barbers in her shop not to worry about coming in. They were already scheduled off for the benefit that wasn’t happening, but she would have to tell them they didn’t have a shop to return to. Racquel would do right by her staff, giving them an opportunity to get a chair in the other location, but that was already full. She would have to double up, and hopefully, the neighborhood customers and the barber’s faithful ones would follow them to the other location. Racquel thought about all of it as she made her way to the bathroom. She had no intention of putting on real clothes to go down, but at least she would take a quick shower and brush her teeth. Even though there wasn’t a lot to be excited about, this was one time Rocky was happy she didn’t have to fuss with her hair. It was definitely ‘get up and go’ hair.
With afternoon traffic, it took Racquel about twenty minutes to get to the shop. She fully expected that the street would be quartered off
where the damage had been done, so she parked at the first available street parking space. It goes without saying Racquel had a knot in her gut, that feeling of dread. Seeing her father’s place under the cover of darkness even with the red and blue lights flashing, still offered a veil, a cloak of the real devastation. Racquel could only imagine what daylight would reveal.
About two doors down from the shop, Naomi met her on the sidewalk.
“Come on, Naomi,” Racquel sighed. “How bad is it, really?”
Naomi’s face was blank, revealing no emotion, which was rare.
“Come on,” she said softly, reaching for Racquel’s hand.
She was hesitant and reluctant. Rocky knew she was going to be pissed and sad again, but she folded her hand into Naomi’s and took the first step. Her eyes scanned the street. There were no partitions, no blockades, not even yellow tape. Still, Rocky’s steps were jilted as she moved. Naomi was almost pulling her towards the shop. At least, that’s how it felt. Racquel dropped her head. She didn’t want to look straight on. Naomi noticed.
“Quel, look up,” Naomi encouraged.
Why was she saying that? Why would she want to see it again?
“Racquel, seriously, look up,” Naomi repeated.
Before she did, Rocky noticed that there was no glass scattered on the concrete immediately in front of the shop. Then, her eyes slowly lifted. Her feet stopped just as her mouth fell open.
“Come on,” Naomi encouraged, this time with a beaming smile.
But Racquel couldn’t convince her feet to move. They just wouldn’t, but her eyes did; seeing balloon bouquets in the benefit colors, a red carpet extending from the door to the curb. When she lifted her eyes even higher, past the glass that had been miraculously replaced as if it had never been broken, Racquel saw her dad’s banner, his name, reflecting brightly in the afternoon sun.
“How?” She uttered in complete disbelief.
“There’s more,” Naomi smiled. “Come on.”
Her feet still didn’t move any faster, more because Racquel was filled with awe instead of dread. By the time they walked through the front door, Racquel’s heart had sunk out of its natural place into her belly and then thumped hard as it traveled back to where it was supposed to be. Her mind couldn’t process what her eyes were seeing. Everything was back, everything, but even better than it had been before. The shop had been restored with brand new barber chairs and mirrors on the wall and artwork and plants, and the decorations for the benefit were bigger and better than they’d been. The vendors were in place, the displays were complete, and two chefs stood at the ready in their pristine white uniforms with matching hats and broad smiles. But she had to trail her eyes back just to confirm what she thought she saw. And when she did, Racquel dropped Naomi’s hand and doubled over, tears piercing her eyes quickly and just as quickly falling to the floor. She had to blink them back to see once again, her father’s original barber chair, fully restored, shining like new money, right where it was supposed to be.
Naomi cried once when she got the call and went to the shop. But seeing her friend overcome, this time with happiness instead of dread, Naomi cried again, too. Truthfully, everyone in the room got a little misty.
Racquel was finally able to stand up, but her hands still shook, echoing the trembling that infiltrated her core. Disbelief was an understatement.
“I don’t understand,” she stuttered. “How?”
“An anonymous benefactor is all I know,” Naomi explained. “They heard what happened and wanted to help. This is how they helped.”
She couldn’t speak. She just couldn’t form the words.
“There’s more,” Naomi grinned.
“There can’t be more,” Racquel mustered. “What else could there be?”
“Well, come with me, and I’ll show you,” Naomi said.
They walked together to the office. When Naomi opened the door, Racquel’s office was brand new, and it was just to her liking as if whoever did it read her mind and found the dream she had about what her office would look like, while still honoring her father’s memory. Naomi walked over to a new artistic photograph hanging on the wall.
“Behind door number one,” she smiled, doing her best Vanna White impression. When she touched the picture in just the right spot, it slid out of its position to reveal an in the wall safe. Racquel wasn’t safe savvy, but she could tell, by the looks of it, that it was high end offering protection her prior safe could not.
“And your benefactor thought of everything,” Naomi said as she sashayed over to the coatrack.
“This is for you, oh, and this, too,” she said, bending down and picking up a box tied with a bow resembling the traditional barber’s pole.
It was a lot to process. Racquel had to sit down, finding her way behind the new desk, and sitting in the luxury leather chair.
Naomi sat the box on the desk. Racquel reached over and grabbed a tissue from a box sitting there and dabbed her eyes.
“Well, open it,” Naomi cheered.
With trembling fingers, Racquel reached for the ribbon, easing it from the knot it was tied in. She was taking too long for Naomi, who wanted her to hurry up. She danced on her feet in anticipation as Rocky peeled away the paper and then lifted the lid.
“Eww,” Naomi squealed. “Christian Louboutin’s. I assume they go along with this,” Naomi mused as she picked up the hanging bag and brought it to Racquel.
With one unzip, Rocky revealed a beautiful dress in red, perfect for the occasion. Checking the size, it was spot on. The shoes were a perfect accent.
“Your benefactor knows you well,” Naomi chimed.
“Who?” Racquel racked her brain, trying to figure it out. The question was an internal thought that spilled from her lips.
“I don’t know, girl, but whoever did this,” Naomi said, looking around, “they are something special. But we don’t have time to ponder. It’s about an hour before the benefit. We’ve got to get dressed.”
“Is your outfit here?”
“No, but Tareef is bringing everything we need, including some lotion for them elbows, sis.”
“Whatever,” Racquel rebuffed, yet it was just the kind of corny humor she needed. Both girls threw their heads back, laughing. It felt good. Damn good.
And before long, the benefit was on. The media was present in full force, and even the paparazzi was there. Any time an Ali brother made a public appearance, the paparazzi followed. Tareef and Naomi had already dazzled on the red carpet. Racquel watched her friend. The smile on Naomi’s face was priceless as she languished on Tareef’s arm, looking at him like she more than liked him. Racquel wasn’t one for red carpets, but she understood it was part of the territory.
“The mayor is here,” Naomi advised, acting as PR coordinator.
Racquel smoothed the skirt of the ruby red dress and ran her tongue across her teeth.
“I’m so glad you could make it, Mrs. Bottoms,” Racquel smiled as the two women greeted each other.
“It’s the least I can do,” Keisha replied. “Your dad cut my dad’s hair before my dad passed. Whatever I can do to honor Mr. Alexander, don’t hesitate. Okay?”
The two women shared a knowing look: two daddy’s girls no longer with their daddy’s.
They posed for the picture and then shared a hug afterward. Racquel was more than ready to retreat inside the shop and had turned in that direction when a buzz moved through the media.
“Mr. Ali, this way! Mr. Ali!”
But Tareef was already inside. When she twirled on her heels, he was there. Khalid’s eyes found her immediately. He wasn’t even looking at the cameras. He was looking directly at Racquel. She felt the assault of his imploring eyes before hers could affix on him. Khalid held his gaze long enough to make sure Racquel’s eyes met his, and then a gentle smile moved across his lips. But he didn’t share that smile with her, instead, turning towards the cameras and giving them the million-watt effect. Easing his jacket back and pushing a ha
nd into his pocket, Khalid gave the paparazzi cover shots.
“Ms. Alexander,” a photographer beckoned, asking her to join Mr. Ali on the carpet. She hesitated and waved them off.
“Go,” Naomi whispered with a gentle push from behind. Racquel could protest, but every eye was on her. Dropping her shoulders, Racquel’s chin tilted, and she sashayed towards him. She remembered how dismissive she’d been of Khalid. She remembered how she pushed him away, taking the easy way out when her heart called for something more. She remembered how he accepted her rejection like it was no big deal. But this was just a picture. She could muster a photograph. It was all for the benefit. Yet, as Khalid slid his arm around her waist that thump in her yoni was the biggest reminder. Being held by him felt natural. His masculine scent was familiar and as enticing as it had ever been before.
Chapter Eighteen
“It’s just a picture,” Khalid whispered against her ear as he leaned in. He said what she’d said. He hadn’t forgotten how dismissive she was after he’d extended himself, offered himself to her.
Before she could respond, the media called to them again, asking for Khalid and Racquel to smile, pose, smile, and then pose again. She had been so strong in her convictions when she rejected him, why did she feel sick in her gut now, like she’d done something wrong? Maybe it was his acceptance that threw Racquel off, like she expected him to push back and still try.
But he did, more than once, that still small voice in her head reminded her.
“Thank you,” Khalid said to the media, lifting a hand and waving to them as he turned Racquel in his arm and walked with her to the door. He held it for her like the gentleman he’d always been. When she crossed the threshold, Khalid crossed behind her.
She felt a gentle yet firm hand to the center of her back and then the warmth of Khalid’s breath against her ear. “I hope you don’t mind my coming. Naomi invited me.”
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