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Back to Your Love

Page 15

by Kianna Alexander


  There were still five patients for her to see before she could go home for the evening, and she was already tired. The nights since the one she’d been out with Xavier had been rough on her. Falling asleep had been taking much longer than usual, and when she did sleep, he haunted her dreams like a specter. No matter how she tried to fight it, her body called out for Xavier’s touch. Her soul craved the feeling of safety only he could provide. She hadn’t been this sleep deprived since her father’s death.

  Imani smiled a bit at the memory of her father. Richard Grant had been a formidable man and a constant source of love and support for her. She knew she could always count on him for advice, a hug, or whatever else she needed.

  Richard was so hardworking and determined, Imani had been convinced he’d go on forever.

  Without the steady comfort of her father’s presence, sometimes life seemed too much to bear. She knew that if he were still alive, she could count on him not to take sides or make judgments, but to give her sound advice that she could use. While everyone else seemed bent on pushing her and Xavier together, she knew her father would have looked at things with a more objective eye. Even if Richard thought she and Xavier belonged together, Imani knew he wouldn’t push the issue. It just wasn’t his way, and that was part of why she’d loved him so much. Her father had provided guidance but also trusted her judgment.

  Raising her head, she stood behind her desk and stretched. Straightening her lab coat and the brown slacks and white blouse beneath it, she left the office to see her next patient. Even as she approached the open door of exam room three, she could smell the heady scent of expensive perfume. Surprised that anything could overpower the aroma of eight dozen roses scattered about the practice, she stepped inside the room. There, she found a short, wide woman with fair skin waiting for her. Auburn curls framed a face that was probably very lovely twenty years ago but now showed the ravages of stress and time. The woman’s expensive-looking black suit and pumps were a stark contrast to her skin tone.

  “Hello, Mrs. Givens.” She greeted her patient with a cheery smile. “I’m Dr. Grant. You’re here to talk about antiaging products?”

  “Yes,” the older woman agreed. “You see, my husband is in politics, and I’d like to keep my looks up, since I’m often on camera.”

  She nodded. “I see. So what are your main concerns?”

  Mrs. Givens launched into a lengthy description of her wrinkles, sagging neck, and other complaints. Imani listened for key words in what she was saying, but the rest went underwater as she wondered what to do about Xavier. He’d brought so much joy into her life, and thoughts of him seemed to flood her mind with every breath.

  “So, what would you recommend, Dr. Grant?”

  Dragging herself back to reality, she gave the woman some information about the importance of daily skin care, weekly exfoliation, and professional facials. Then she continued, “There are a few creams containing retinols and some botanical ingredients that I could prescribe to you. These will take several weeks to work. Also, if you’re seeking more noticeable results, you may want to consider visiting a cosmetic surgeon for injections.”

  She appeared to mull things over for a moment, then said, “I think I’ll do a little of both. Could you recommend someone?”

  Producing a business card from a plastic holder on the exam room’s small desk, she handed it to Mrs. Givens. “Rachel Turner was a classmate of mine at Meharry. I’m sure she can be of assistance to you.”

  Mrs. Givens expressed her thanks and, with her newly written prescriptions in hand, turned to leave. As she did, she dropped her purse.

  “Let me help you with that.” Leaning down, Imani picked up a few of the spilled contents of the bag, including a vinyl holder full of wallet-sized photos. The top photo depicted Mrs. Givens with a slightly taller, dark-skinned man with gray around the temples. The man’s face was so familiar to her that she asked, “Is this your husband?”

  “Yes, that’s my husband. Councilman Aaron Givens. You’ve probably seen him on television.” She beamed with pride as she accepted the handful of dropped items Imani offered. “We’ve been married twenty-six years.” With a smile and wave, Mrs. Givens departed, along with the invisible cloud of musk fragrance surrounding her.

  A stunned Imani remained on the small swivel stool she’d been perched on for a few long moments.

  She had seen that man before, but it had not been on television. No, she’d seen him in person, wearing a dark suit similar to the one he’d been wearing in the photograph.

  And thinking of the place where she’d met him made the bile rise in her throat.

  It seemed the universe had presented her with another sign that her past would continue to haunt her.

  Maybe Maya was right.

  Maybe the time had come to tell Xavier the truth.

  * * *

  Xavier swung open the door to the youth center, sticking out his free hand. “Bryan. Thanks again for doing this for me, man.”

  Removing his dark sunglasses, Bryan entered the common area and let the door swing shut behind him. “Hey, no problem. We’re brothers, right?” He tapped his index finger against the green-and-silver TDT tie tack he wore.

  “That we are.” Xavier glanced at his own TDT cuff links. “You’re a little early, so let’s get you set up before the kids get here. Want a soda or something?” He began walking toward the office, with Bryan following him.

  “I’ll take a bottle of water.”

  Xavier fetched two bottles from the mini fridge in the rear of the office, tossing one to Bryan. “So, are you ready to do this?”

  “I don’t know. Speaking in front of kids about my job isn’t something I do often.” He twisted the cap off his bottle and took a long swig of water.

  Xavier smiled. Career Day was a quarterly occurrence at Revels Youth Center, and he expended a lot of effort in finding speakers who would expose the kids to a wide variety of career options. “I know. But trust me, you’ll do fine. You know your business inside and out. I’m sure that’ll come through in your talk.”

  Bryan adjusted his collar. “We’ll see how it goes.”

  Hearing the front door open and the chatter and laughter of the first of the kids to arrive, Xavier slapped his friend on the back. “The kids are here. You’re on, B.”

  With a smile, Bryan finished the bottle of water. “I’m ready, X.”

  The two men left the office, moving through the center’s lower level until they returned to the common area. The arrangement of the space had been changed to allow everyone to sit and watch today’s presentation. Most of the furniture had been moved, and the chairs had all been set up to face the wooden podium.

  As the kids filed into the room, watched over by Tori and Xavier, they took up residence in the chairs. Bryan straightened his tie and took his place behind the podium, awaiting his cue to begin.

  Xavier chose a seat near the back, next to Tori. With everyone in place, Xavier raised his hand toward Bryan, signaling to him.

  “Good afternoon. My name is Bryan James. Mr. Whitted asked me to come and speak with you all about my work for your Career Day, and I’m happy to be here.”

  “How do you know Mr. Whitted?” The question came from a young man in the back.

  “Xavier and I went to college together, and we’re fraternity brothers.” Bryan shifted his weight, resting his palms on the sides of the podium. “I work in the clothing industry. I am the CMO, or chief marketing officer, of Royal Textiles.”

  Xavier chuckled. When Bryan said he didn’t usually speak to kids about his work, he hadn’t been kidding. So far, he was coming off way too formal for this crowd. In order to get Bryan to relax, Xavier got up and walked to the front. He stood next to Bryan long enough to speak quietly into his ear. “Lighten up, dude. The kids aren’t expecting Shakespeare.”

  Bryan nodded as Xavier walke
d back to his seat. “I want this to be an informal conversation. I didn’t come here just to talk at you about the boring day-to-day details of my job. I’ll give you the basics; then I’ll open up to questions.”

  Xavier watched and listened as Bryan rattled off some of his responsibilities as an executive in his family’s company. He also gave something of a motivational speech, encouraging the youngsters to pursue their goals relentlessly. The kids seemed to get a kick out of hearing about the famous designers that had their clothing manufactured by Royal Textiles, and the atmosphere in the room lightened significantly as Bryan ran down the list.

  “Does anybody have questions for me?” Bryan’s eyes scanned the room for raised hands. Seeing one, he pointed to the girl sitting on the second row. “Go ahead.”

  “So, are you rich or something? I mean, how much money do you make?” The girl sat forward in her chair, as if particularly interested in his answer.

  Xavier noticed a lot of the kids’ ears perk up at that question.

  Bryan smiled. “I don’t know if rich is the term, though I make a very good living. My salary is in the middle six figures, but I’m not pulling down Jay Z money or anything like that.”

  Laughter met that answer. Xavier laughed too, but he appreciated his friend’s honesty. He didn’t want the kids getting a false impression.

  “Yo. I got a question,” Corey, one of the boys, spoke as he raised his hand. “I’m not trying to be in your personal business, but I don’t know about a lot of straight dudes in the fashion industry.”

  Xavier cut a serious look in the boy’s direction and was about to tell him how rude the query was, but Bryan smiled, taking the question in stride. “You’re right, young brother. There’s not a lot of straight men in the industry, at least not in positions that have high visibility. I’m straight, though. I guess I’m out there blazing a trail.” He shrugged.

  More chuckles met that answer.

  Xavier shook his head. There was never a dull moment when he was with his kids, and he’d just been reminded of that.

  From behind the podium, Bryan spoke. “I don’t normally do talks like this. But I really do want to encourage some of you to think about getting into the fashion and textiles industry. Right now, it’s not very diverse, and that’s especially true when you reach the executive level, where I’m at.”

  A hush fell over the room, and to Xavier, it looked as if some of the kids were considering what Bryan had just said.

  Bryan spoke again, pointing out a girl on the front row. “Like you. What’s your name?”

  Quietly, she answered, “Shelly.”

  Bryan walked over from the podium to where she sat. “Stand up, Shelly. Turn around so your peers can see you.”

  Shelly did as she was asked.

  “Now look at Shelly’s shirt and bag. You made these, didn’t you?” He gestured to the airbrushed, deconstructed T she wore and her multicolored handbag.

  Shelly nodded. “Yeah. I painted the shirt, and the bag is made out of candy wrappers and stuff.”

  Bryan clapped his hands. “See what I’m talking about? This sister is talented. She’s already got the natural skills she would need to thrive in my industry. How old are you, Shelly?”

  “Fifteen.” She blushed. “I’ll be sixteen next month.”

  “Well, you’re already showing a knack for design. And if it’s okay with your parents, you’re welcome to come and intern at Royal during the summer.”

  Shelly’s eyes widened. “For real?”

  “Yeah, for real.” Bryan gestured to her chair. “I’ll leave my card with you.”

  Xavier cheered. Not only had Bryan given a great talk, but he’d also related to the kids on a personal level and taken the time to point out Shelly’s talent to her peers.

  Bryan returned to the podium. “I’m done talking, unless you all have more questions. But remember what I said. There is no limit on the things you can do. Just follow your heart, capitalize on your talents, and never give up.”

  As Bryan walked away from the podium, the kids burst into a boisterous round of applause. Xavier met him at the front of the room, shaking his hand and giving him a manly half hug. “Thanks a lot for this, man.”

  Bryan grinned as he glanced at his watch. “I was happy to do it. Gotta get back to the office now. Make sure to give Shelly’s parents my card.”

  Xavier smiled, grateful for his friend’s willingness to help. “You were serious, weren’t you?”

  Bryan shrugged. “What can I say? She’s got the chops.” With a wave, he headed for the door.

  Xavier shook his head as he watched him go. Of all his frat brothers, Bryan was the most business-minded, so he wasn’t surprised that he was rushing back to work. Still, he really did appreciate what he’d done. He glanced at Shelly, who appeared to be looking at her handbag with new eyes.

  Xavier had spoken to Shelly about her wearable artwork before, encouraging her to pursue it professionally. She’d always dismissed him, however, claiming that she only made the things she wanted that her parents couldn’t afford to buy her. He could understand how that encouragement seemed far more valid when it came from a fashion industry executive.

  Odds were, Bryan had just given her a brand-new perspective on who she was and what she could be.

  And for that, Xavier would always be grateful to him.

  Chapter 11

  Friday morning, the next bouquet of roses arrived, and they were not brought in by Maya or a deliveryman but by Xavier himself.

  As he walked into her office, she straightened up in her chair and pushed a fallen lock of hair out of her face. “I hope that’s the last vase of flowers you plan on sending here. I’m beginning to run out of space to house them.” She laughed nervously, hoping he wouldn’t take offense.

  He chuckled, running his free hand over his chin. “That depends.”

  Taking in his handsome face and the well-cut dark suit clinging to his muscular frame, she sighed. “On?”

  “Go out with me again and I’ll stop.”

  She studied him. “Seriously? All of this to get me to go out with you again?”

  With a sly smile, he shrugged his broad shoulders. “Hey, whatever works.”

  “Don’t you have clients you should be working for right now?” Despite her efforts to appear upset, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her lips.

  “Of course. But those spreadsheets can wait.”

  She shook her head ruefully. This man was too much. Looking at him standing there with those flowers in his arms, she made a decision. It was obvious he wasn’t going to leave her alone. And honestly, she didn’t want him to. She’d give this thing a chance, but he could never know her secret. As much as she knew she should tell him, she couldn’t. Not now, anyway. Maybe later, when the time was right. Bracing herself, she announced, “All right. I’ll go out with you. Again.”

  His face brightened with a wide grin as he set the flowers down on her desk. “Great.”

  She let a small smile lift the corners of her mouth. He moved around the side of her desk, and she could feel a shiver go down her spine.

  Leaning down, he whispered, “You won’t regret this, sweets.” Then his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and the warmth of the contact touched her very core.

  A soft sigh escaped her lips as he kissed her earlobe, the crook of her neck, then the underside of her jaw. Finally, his lips met hers, and she let her mouth drop open as their tongues mated and played.

  When he drew away a few moments later, she was left breathless, dazed, and wanting more.

  He straightened to his full height. With glittering eyes, he said, “Until tonight. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  Her mind hazy with sensation, she nodded at his softly spoken words. By the time she’d come back to her senses, he’d slipped out of her office a
nd was gone.

  The rest of the day, she did her best to keep her focus where it was needed—on her patients and paperwork. Thoughts of Xavier and whatever he had planned for her were with her through it all. She left early, around two thirty in the afternoon, to take her mother to a doctor’s appointment. Though she didn’t enjoy hanging around in the waiting room, she would be grateful to have something else to occupy her mind besides Xavier.

  As she drove to pick her mother up, she wondered whether or not to tell Alma about their first date. Now that she’d agreed to go out with him again, she supposed her mother might as well know.

  As Alma settled into the black leather of the passenger seat, she asked, “How was your day today, baby?”

  For a moment, Imani thought about telling her of Xavier’s visit. She knew how her mother’s mind worked, and Alma would jump from deciding Imani and Xavier were an item again to planning their wedding and naming her grandchildren. Not wanting to excite her and raise her blood pressure right before a doctor’s appointment, she changed her mind. “It was a pretty good day.” She said nothing more.

  In the office of Dr. Lyle Tillman, she listened intently to what he was saying. Her mother sat next to her and appeared to be taking in the doctor’s words as well. Alma had been through a battery of tests, complaining the entire time about being “poked and prodded,” so she would probably do whatever he requested just to avoid a repeat of the day’s trials.

  The older man, with his gray-streaked brown hair, blue eyes, and ready smile, had been her mother’s doctor for several years. “If you can keep up with your insulin doses and blood pressure meds, Alma, I think you’ll do well,” he said, jotting notes on his clipboard. “Are you going to follow my orders this time?”

  A sheepish-looking Alma nodded. “Yes. I let myself get too wrapped up in my church work, but even the Lord would want me to take care of myself.”

  Hearing that gave Imani a measure of relief. She’d still hired a nurse to help her mother out for a few hours each day, in the name of precaution, but she was happy to hear her mother’s words.

 

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