Ms. Perfectly Imperfect: BBW BWWM Interracial Romance

by Roxy Wilson

  Mary slapped Layla’s hand away from her shoulder. “Don’t—don’t hurt me.” Mary was visibly trembling throughout her entire body. “Please don’t…” Mary curled herself in the fetal position and clapped her hands over her ears.

  Layla tried to understand her mother’s rants. Mary’s eyes were bloodshot and her disheveled appearance told Layla that she was drunk, but hallucinating? Or having a bad dream maybe?

  “Oh, God—don’t rape me—please—don’t…”

  When her mother continued to scream and yell while trying to push herself into a corner of the couch, Layla finally realized that her mother wasn’t merely imagining stuff. She was reliving a horrific time of her life, the night she was raped in a dark alley on her way home from her job, then was left lying on the ground. A month later, she discovered that she was pregnant and since she didn’t believe in getting an abortion because of her strict Catholic upbringing, she had Layla and raised her on her own. But not without the trauma of being a victim of rape…not without silently resenting a rape-conceived child, reminding Layla on more than one occasion how she looked so much like her father, and nothing like her, except of course, for her hair.

  While Layla never made light of her mother’s experience that night, the life she knew growing up with the single parent, Mary, was extremely difficult. Yes, her mother was a victim, but she, Layla, became the forgotten victim.

  Layla ran a hand over her barely-there hair. With this new haircut, she probably looked more like her father, the man who still preyed on Mary’s peace of mind, even after all these years. “Mom, it’s me.”

  Her mother continued to shriek in a loud voice. “Get away. Go away. Leave me alone!”

  Seeing her so distressed, Layla didn’t think there was any point talking to her. She ran to the door and picked up her keys from the bowl. After opening the door, she rushed out and banged the door shut.

  Immediately, Mary’s screams stopped.

  Tears poured down Layla’s cheeks as she realized that her mother linked her with the man who raped her. It’d been too overwhelming a thought for her to make peace with it. She’d lost her one and only connection with her mother—her hair that her mother prized.

  Now, she didn’t have anything in common with her own mother anymore. Layla realized she was trapped in a much bigger bind than she originally assumed and she didn’t have any idea if she would ever get back to having a normal life again.

  Chapter Four

  The cost of not following your heart, is spending the rest of your life wishing you had. ~Amanda Helm

  Clint Collins strolled into the hospital, feeling haggard and tired. He’d barely reached his apartment when he got an emergency call. Of course, he didn’t have any option but to turn right back and attend to his patient. He loved his job and enjoyed interacting with young children while helping them get on with their lives. The sad part was Clint hated it when his patients lost their battle with death. “Are his parents here?” he asked the receptionist.

  “No, Dr. Collins. They’re on their way.”

  “I’ll be in the room with him. When they come, send them straight in.”

  “Room 241, sir? Patient’s name is Ethan Thomas, right?”

  He sighed, ran a hand through his hair that probably already stood up in straight spikes, and nodded. Dread settled in his heart. “Yes, that’s right.”

  Although he noticed the tall, svelte, yet voluptuous woman who stood with her back to him, he didn’t pay her much attention as he strode towards his patient’s room. He hated this part of his job. Even after years of experience, he couldn’t get used to this aspect of medicine. He wanted each of his patients to go home, healthy and happy. Pushing open the door, he walked inside and held the hand of the boy who was already in a deep coma.

  Tears gathered in his eyes, but he hastily blinked them away. When the parents came in, he comforted them and stayed there until the Ethan stopped breathing. Clint noted the time of death in the chart. “I’m deeply sorry.”

  The mother was crying and incapable of speech.

  The father put his hand on Clint’s shoulder. “You did all you could, Doc. There were others who didn’t even want to take a chance with him, but you tried your best. Ethan was very fond of you, and we had four beautiful years with him because of your hard work and persistence. We can’t ever thank you enough for those.”

  Clint felt like a fraud and a loser. If he was so dammed good, he could have saved Ethan, but instead he failed him. He didn’t have any words to express the grief he felt. He hugged Ethan’s parents and left them to say goodbye to their son.

  When he got out, he wiped a hand over his cheeks to brush away the last of his tears. Ethan was gone, but there were others who needed his attention. He felt optimistic that most of them were going to make it, but the ones who didn’t—he never forgot them. His gaze strayed to the beautiful woman who was sitting on the bench against the door.

  She looked very familiar, but there was something different about her hair.

  “Hi. Do I know you?” When she stood up, he suddenly remembered. “Layla, right?”

  “You have an excellent memory.” She smiled a little hesitatingly. “I just came in to see if any of my test results were in, and then I heard about the boy—and I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but follow you. Is he—is he…?”

  Clint nodded. “He’s gone.” He could tell that she was deeply troubled about something. Surely, it couldn’t be the death of his patient since she didn’t know him, although he could tell that the news of Ethan’s death disturbed her. Why was she here at this time?

  Her gaze darted to the closed door. “I’m sorry. It must be hard to deal with the death of a young child.”

  “It is.” Clint felt the urge to stay with her and talk, even though he didn’t know her. Yes, he’d asked her out because she was beautiful and he’d been drawn to her, but there was also some other quality about her…her empathy. The way she’d talked to Charlotte and now, sadness she showed about Ethan’s death told him she was highly sensitive. He felt an immediate attraction to her. It wasn’t just for her beauty, but also for her good heart which he could see easily. “Would you like to have a smoothie with me? There’s a smoothie bar right outside. They serve coffee too, if that’s what you prefer. I can’t handle caffeine too well this time of the night.”

  She tilted her head. “Sure.”

  Amazed at his luck, he gestured with his hand.

  She fell into step beside him.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering how I can ask you out at a time like this.”

  “You need to go on with a normal life, so you can help others.” She adjusted the strap of her purse. “I appreciate the fact that you can deal with your grief and yet, continue to live.”

  He remembered that she was engaged. Or was that an excuse she gave, so she wouldn’t have to say yes to his offer for dinner the other day? He didn’t want to ask and spoil the moment. He also felt astounded at her keen perspective. “Are all your tests finished?”

  “They might have to run a couple more of them.” She sighed. “I’m losing my hair, and the doctors are trying to figure out why.”

  He didn’t spare a glance at her wig. Naturally, she must be using it to hide the bald patches. Sympathy welled in his heart. She wasn’t here to know about her test results at this time. Something else drew her here so late at night. He wasn’t sure if he should ask her. “It must be very distressing for you.”

  “It was, until I overheard your conversation with the receptionist and then I realized that there were kids dying while I was moaning and groaning about my hair.” She marched forward with an easy grace as they crossed the street. “It gave me a big jolt, and that’s why I followed you.”

  He opened the door of the smoothie bar. Now, he understood her reasons. It wasn’t often that people could put things in such perspective so early on. “Ethan was a very strong boy. Although he wanted to live, he was a little tired of all the injections and treat
ment, but he didn’t want to go, because it would make his parents distressed. But in the end, he lost. He left behind two younger brothers who have learned a lot from him about resilience and love. I’m sure he would be delighted to know that in some small way he could help you deal with your problems.”

  She slipped into the booth and put her purse on the side. “Thank you for saying that. You’re a very kind.”

  He laughed. “That’s not the impression I was trying to make.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What impression did you want to make?”

  “Cool. Competent. Charming. Those are the traits that I would have chosen to highlight.”

  Her lips lifted in a smile and she leaned back. “That too, doc, but what impresses me is that you can come back to see a patient when you’re off duty. Most of us don’t think that much about doing something for others.” Her eyes brightened as if she had a sudden idea. “Is there a volunteer program at the hospital?”

  “Yes, there is. Would you like me to give you some information about it?” Clint sensed in her a need to do something, and he wanted to encourage it. “Let me order first. What would you like? Coffee or a smoothie.”

  “I’ll stick with a mango smoothie.”

  He ordered and got their drinks, Clint returned to his seat. After he gave her some information about the volunteer program at the hospital, he sat back to observe her. He tried to recall any magazines on which he might have seen her or some billboards. His work kept him quite occupied and he barely got time to even watch TV. Also, he preferred to read or catch Broadway shows rather than sit in front of the idiot box. “I know you said you’re a model but I…can’t seem to recall any of your ads.” Suddenly, something clicked in his memory. “Wait a minute. You’re the IT girl, the cologne, right?”

  Her lips lifted in a smile. “That was two years ago, but yes, I’m the IT girl.”

  “You’re still doing their campaign?”

  “Among others, yes.” She sighed. “Now with this hair problem, I don’t know how long I will continue to get work.”

  He understood her distress. It must be tough to deal with something that she didn’t have any control over but might affect her work. If he were asked to leave his job, he wouldn’t know what to do. “This isn’t permanent, I’m sure of it.”

  “What if it’s cancer or a tumor, or something like that?”

  He sat back to observe her. “You look healthy to me. Your eyes are clear, and there are no obvious signs of fatigue. Have there been any changes in your skin?”

  “No.”

  “Any fever? Bleeding? Trouble swallowing? Weight loss?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “These are just basic questions, but based on that, I can say with a great amount of certainty that you don’t have cancer. Have your test results come back?”

  “A few did, and they are clear, but I’m waiting for more results.”

  He sipped his smoothie. Although he’d been tired before, being in her presence, Clint suddenly felt invigorated, energized. He didn’t want the conversation to end. Somehow, he felt the need to talk to her. She needed him right now, and in a strange sort of way, he also wanted to spend more time with her.

  “You must be thinking that I’m self-obsessed. I mean, after dealing with these sick children. Here I am boring you with my problems.”

  Clint leaned forward. He hoped that she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re worried, which is understandable. Anyone who faces such an issue would be anxious, but I want to assure you that it will get better. There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. More than hair loss, I think you must be more worried about the affect it might have on your job.”

  Much to his surprise, she wrinkled her brow. “Actually, I suppose, yes, I’m a little worried about that. Not that I love it…damn it. I shouldn’t have said that. People assume that I love the glamour, but actually, it kind of loses its appeal after some time. I would rather do something else.”

  “What?”

  She glanced out of the window and then looked back at him. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I’ve actually never told this to anyone.”

  “Come on, you can share with me. I swear that I’m not affiliated with any news or media group.”

  She laughed. “I doubt it will make the headlines even if it was leaked, but I like to make soap.”

  He felt sure he misunderstood. “Soap?”

  “Yeah, soap. In different colors and shapes, using organic products. I make it at home, but one day, I want to set up my own manufacturing plant that would make soap and sell it.”

  “Why don’t you do it?”

  “Time. Money. Effort. Everything is in short supply right now.” Leaning forward, she sipped her smoothie. “It’s not a big deal really. Maybe it’s just a dream, you know. My career is doing great. It would be silly for me to leave it and pursue something so uncertain.”

  “Achievements are a direct result of pipe dreams.”

  “Who said that?”

  He chuckled. “I did, just now,” he admitted.

  Her laughter filled the silence in the café. It was late, and there were no other customers around. He considered himself lucky that he got this opportunity to hang out with her. She was quite a lady. Open, honest, direct, and of course, mind-blowingly beautiful. It would be silly of him to let her slip through his fingers.

  “Well said.” She applauded and then checked her watch. “It’s getting late. I should go home. Thank you for the smoothie and the talk. It was actually kind of nice.”

  “Kind of nice? Hmm…I was hoping to do better than that.” He stood with her. Walking out with her, he surveyed the streets. No cabs were in sight. “Why don’t we meet again and I could try to do a better job?”

  “I don’t know—it’s…I’m in a difficult kind of a situation right now.”

  “You’re engaged?”

  When she looked away, he figured out that she didn’t want to talk about it just as yet. If he pressured her, he might not get an opportunity to see her again. Clint held her hand and when she looked down at their linked fingers, he smiled. “Okay, we’ll do it at your pace. Why don’t you drop by the hospital to see me when you’re there next?”

  “I have to go now.”

  He let go of her hand. “Why don’t I drop you? My car is in the parking lot, and it’s late. I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you stand here while you tried to catch a cab.”

  Much to his delight, she nodded. “Thanks. That would be great.”

  Together, they strolled towards the parking lot. A nice, fast breeze blew through the street and he pulled the jacket tighter around his body. As far as Clint as concerned, this was a good start. Perhaps, in time, they would get to a better position but for now, he was happy to spend some time with her. .

  He helped her into his car, and she gave him the address. Within forty-five minutes, he parked at the front of the building. Stepping out of the car, he jogged around his sedan to open her door. “This is a nice building.”

  “Actually, a friend of mine lives here. I’m going to stay here for the night.

  “A friend?”

  She stepped out of the vehicle, avoiding looking directly into his eyes. “Thanks for the ride. Take care.”

  “Bye.” Clint watched her with her hips swaying enticingly, as she hustled to the front door of this friend’s apartment, quite aware that she’d avoided answering his implied question. Friend? Was this her fiancé’s place? He didn’t think she was the kind of girl who moved from one man to another without much thought. Of course, there was nothing romantic about their relationship so far, but he hoped that eventually, it would move in that direction. But if she was still engaged, what was she doing alone in the hospital this time of the night? Why didn’t she go to her own apartment?

  So many questions swirled through his mind, but he didn’t have any answers. After she stepped inside the building, Clint drove home. He could only hope that he would
soon be able to get more answers. For now, it was enough that her lovely image floated in his mind, which was enough to sustain him for some time—or at least until they met again.

  Chapter Five

  Sometimes walking away has nothing to do with weakness, and everything to do with strength. We walk away not because we want others to realize our worth and value, but because we finally realize our own. ~Brigitte Nicole

  Layla was on the set, as always, doing her work with quick aplomb. Although she didn’t actually love her work, she enjoyed it because not only was she good at it, but also she’d put in many hours to perfect her craft. As she changed from pose to pose, her mind kept drifting to the delicious Dr. Collins…really a kind soul. She could read that about him. A doctor who went beyond his duty to care for patients; one who took out time to listen to the woes of a stranger, was certainly a man worth knowing.

  “Take a break,” Asher said.

  Gratefully, she stepped off the set as they changed the backdrop. She walked into the changing room to change into a different outfit. Once she was done, she sat there to wait for them to call her back out.

  Asher came in. “What happened last night, baby girl?”

  All she’d told him was that she needed a place to crash. He didn’t ask any questions as it was late at night and she didn’t offer any information. “My mother wasn’t—doing so well. She needed some space.”

  “She’s living with you?”

  There was no way she could share with anyone about what happened. It wasn’t fair for her mother if she told her life story. Although, she trusted Asher, Layla wasn’t prepared to tell him all this. “Just for a couple of days. Naturally, this problem that I’m facing…this hair loss is scaring the hell out of her. She seems to think that it’s the end of my career.”

  “It might as well be,” her manager, Bryan said, as he strode in. “You’re different than other models because of your looks and your hair. It’s not often that someone with dark features and naturally brown hair comes into the industry. If you can’t boast this combination, there isn’t much that you have to offer.”