Chapter Three
Chanel
I stepped out of Xavier’s car as soon as he turned it off. Making my way to the back door, I helped Anne Marie and Noah out of the backseat and started toward the entrance of the mid-size brick building. I turned when I heard another car door close, and realized Xavier was getting out, following us.
I bit my lower lip, due to the nervousness of how I would explain this situation to him. Instead of asking right there, he walked past us to hold the glass door open. I inclined my head toward in gratitude and escorted Anne Marie and her little boy inside.
Donna, the director of the shelter, was there to greet us. I’d shot her a text while Anne Marie was packing a bag for her and Noah, to let her know we would be coming in.
“Hey, Donna. This is Anne Marie and Noah,” I introduced them.
Her warm green eyes greeted them and then shot over my shoulder suspiciously at the tall, dark, quiet man behind me. Turning from Donna to let her speak with Anne Marie, I walked back to Xavier. “Hey, thank you so much for driving us here. I know, um…” I blew out a breath, pushing my hair behind my ear.
“You don’t have to explain,” he stated knowingly.
I gave him a half-smile. “Um, I’m probably going to be here pretty late. So, you don’t have to wait. I’ll just catch an Uber back to the restaurant to get my car. Thanks again.”
He nodded and looked like he was about to say something else when Noah’s whines interrupted him.
“Moommy!” Noah began to whine.
I tossed Xavier a smile, excusing myself, and made it back over to Anne Marie, taking Noah from her. “Hey, little guy. I’m your mommy’s friend, Ms. Chanel. Remember me?”
Noah’s hazel eyes looked at me suspiciously, but he remained silent.
“Your mommy told me you didn’t eat dinner tonight. I bet you’re hungry.” Actually, dinner had been put on pause when Anne Marie’s husband came home from an obviously shitty day at work and decided to take it out on his wife. Again. “I also happen to know peanut butter and jelly is your favorite, and Ms. Donna here has the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the back.” My voice was infused with a cheer that didn’t lend itself to the gravity of our current situation, but was necessary when dealing with grumpy three-year-olds. “How about we go get a PB and J and some chocolate milk for you?”
Noah’s expression changed from curiosity to excitement as he nodded, relaxing in my arms.
“Okay, then.” I exchanged nods with Anne Marie and Donna. Donna led us to the locked doors to the side of the receptionist desk, which also was separated from the lobby by bulletproof glass. As we entered the hall, Donna double-checked to make sure the door was locked behind us, and we made our way down the hall and turned into Donna’s office. Anne Marie was seated and Donna took a seat behind her desk. I hiked Noah up on my waist.
“How about we go get that sandwich,” I intoned. “Anne Marie, I’m just going to take Noah to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and milk. The kitchen is on the second floor here, okay?” I explained, wanting her to feel comfortable. I knew she and Donna had some things they needed to discuss before I needed to come in and talk with her again.
“Okay,” she nodded, looking so broken.
Seeing this never gets easy.
“Come on, Noah.” We went down the hall to the stairs and found our way up to the kitchen. Being familiar with the place, I pulled out the ingredients and made Noah his sandwich, placing it on a Styrofoam plate before grabbing a carton of chocolate milk from the fridge. Within seconds of putting the food in front of Noah, his little hands scooped up the sandwich, chewing hungrily. My heart sank at seeing this innocent little boy with hazel eyes and dark brown hair, just like his father’s, caught up in this type of situation. It was after ten o’clock at night. He should be home sleeping comfortably in his bed, but instead, he was here, hungry at a women’s shelter while his mother was in the process figuring out how to safely escape her husband and still keep her life.
“Done,” Noah stated around a yawn.
“Want any more milk?” I asked as he placed his empty carton on his plate.
He shook his head, and I picked up his plate, discarding it in the garbage. After wiping his mouth, I grabbed his hand and led us out the room and down the steps back to Donna’s office.
“Come in, Chanel,” Donna responded to my light taps on her door.
Noah ran over to his mother as she sat on the couch, curling up beside her. The little guy was so tired.
“Noah ate,” I told Anne Marie. Heading to the corner of Donna’s small refrigerator, I pulled out one of the ice packs she kept on hand, wrapped it in a towel and gently placed it over Anne Marie’s eye, for her to hold there. It was quite swollen, but from what I could tell, it didn’t look like she had any broken bones in her face. She looked so exhausted as she accepted the ice pack, leaning on her elbow on the edge of the couch, closing her good eye.
“I was just explaining to Anne Marie that, here at our facility, we can house her for twenty-four hours all the way up to three months to give her time to figure out what she wants to do.”
I nodded at Donna’s spiel. I knew the routine. We were in an emergency shelter, allowing women, most of whom had young children with them, to hide out from abusive partners while they got the legal paperwork in place and set up more permanent accommodations elsewhere.
“So, that leaves us to figure out what your legal options are,” I began, going into detail about what it would take to file and obtain a restraining order. Anne Marie had come to my office a month ago, asking what it would take to get a divorce and full custody of Noah. She’d looked dejected when I informed her that the chances of her getting full custody were nil, especially since she didn’t work and therefore had no way to support herself and Noah. Despite the prevailing myth, courts did not look too kindly to splitting up either parent from their child, and in many cases, if the father had the financial resources, he could make life a living hell for the mother of his child and children.
Since then, I’d met with Anne Marie every other week as she decided whether or not to take a step toward breaking free of her abusive marriage. That night, when Mike had come home in a rage, she feared for life for the first time in a long time. And when he’d lunged at Noah as if he was going to hit him, Anne Marie intervened, garnering her black eye and busted lip. When he stormed out, leaving the house a disaster and Anne Marie a bloody mess, she called me, frantic, begging for help. I’d hoped this incident was enough to make her leave him for good, but I knew better than to get my hopes up.
Even as I explained her options and the process to rebuilding her life, I knew the chances of her going along with it were slim. I just secretly hoped whenever she made the final decision, it wasn’t too late to save her or her son.
****
By the time I walked down the hall toward the exit, it was well after two in the morning. I’d spent hours talking with Anne Marie and Donna about her options. Donna had done the intake information and finally got a sleeping Noah and Anne Marie into one of the upstairs rooms where they could stay. I made an appointment to come back on Monday and check in on them, but I knew I’d be calling over the weekend to speak with Donna. Right then, I just wanted to get home to my bed.
“Xavier,” I called when I pushed through the door and saw him, seated in one of the lobby chairs, eyes shut as if sleeping.
“H-hey,” he semi-moaned, rubbing his eyes and stretching as he stood. He’d removed his suit jacket and the tie he wore earlier, and rolled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt. Somehow, he looked even more delicious in this dressed-down state. The muscles of his forearms bunched and flexed as he stretched.
I looked over my shoulder as the door behind me closed and locked. “What are you still doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” he stated casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“What? That’s,” I paused, checking the time on my phone, “almost four hours you’ve been sitting out here?”
He shrugged. “It left me time to return some emails and some other stuff I needed to do. You ready to go?”
“Uh, y-yeah, I guess.” I was still confused but didn’t have the energy to question it anymore.
He held the door open for us and guided me back to his car. I was totally out of it, knowing I should thank him for staying, but still confused as to why he’d waited all that time there. I could have easily caught an Uber back to the restaurant, and I’m sure he had plenty of other things he could’ve been doing. I yawned, shaking my head and blinking, trying to keep myself from passing out right there in his car. I gazed out the window and blinked again when we missed the exit that headed toward his restaurant.
“You missed the exit,” I informed him.
“Nah, I’m taking you home. You’re still in no condition to drive. You can pick your car up in the morning. It’ll be safe at the restaurant.”
“You know my address?”
“I know it’s in this direction. Put it in the GPS,” Xavier directed.
I put in my address and sat back as he turned on “Cranes in the Sky” by Solange. I sat back and closed my eyes. “I love this song. Solange did her thing on that last album.”
“Most definitely. I’ve been blasting this joint for the last few months.”
“Them Knowles sisters are talented as hell.” I began mumbling the words to the song as we passed the sights of the city.
“They make Houston proud,” he said with pride in his voice, his head bopping to the beat.
I found myself digging my fingers underneath my thighs to keep from reaching over and stroking the side of his face. We rode in silence, listening to more songs on Solange’s A Seat at the Table, until Xavier pulled up to the street that housed the building where I lived. He parked in front of my building, but didn’t turn the car off. I could tell something was on his mind, and I remained where I was. When he turned to me, I could see the anger in his eyes.
“Her husband did that to her?”
I averted my gaze. “Xavier, she’s my client. I can’t talk to you about—”
“But that was a women’s shelter we just left, right? For women suffering from abuse?”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything. It was obvious what the place was.
“Her husband beat the hell out of her in front of her son, and then she called you to help her? And you were going to go over there at night, by yourself?” The accusation in his words stung a little bit.
“I would’ve been fine,” I defended.
“Right, and what if he was home? You make a habit of rescuing clients with violent spouses?”
I closed my eyes, too tired to deal with anything this substantial at the moment. “Xavier, thank you for the ride. I apologize for inconveniencing your evening,” I retorted, moving to get out, when he grabbed my arm.
“Yo, I’m sorry. You didn’t inconvenience anything. I was just worried. That’s some dangerous shit to get involved with.”
You’re telling me, I thought.
“She needs to get the police involved. What if he—?” Xavier’s words were cut off when my mouth collided with his. I pressed my lips to his, softly biting his lower lip and then licking it before I pulled back. I licked my lips, savoring his taste on them.
“I always wanted to see if your lips were as soft as they looked,” I said, just above a whisper. “Turns out, even softer.”
“Yo, Chanel,” he spoke, but I held up my hand.
“I can see myself inside,” I stated, quickly exiting and allowing the doorman to hold the door open for me.
“Good evening, Ms. Richards.” Antonio inclined his head.
I waved, passing him and not even bothering to look back to see if Xavier was still there. I didn’t stop moving until the elevator door closed behind me. I leaned against the back of the elevator as it carried me up to the fifteenth floor. I wrapped a hand around my lower belly, which still had butterflies fluttering around in it after that kiss.
It was brief. I don’t even think he kissed me back, but I meant what I’d said about his lips being softer than I’d ever imagined. I’d kissed him out of instinct. I’d wanted to change the topic from Anne Marie and her husband to something else. The only thing I could think of at that moment was to reach out and touch him. So that’s exactly what I did. And I wasn’t ashamed to say I didn’t regret it.
Sure, I’d likely be embarrassed the next time I ran into Xavier, but I could blame it on my being tired, the alcohol I’d consumed earlier in the night, or being traumatized by the events of the night. All plausible excuses…but the reality was, I did it because I wanted to. I’d had a crush on Xavier for longer than I could remember. As a teen, my mother had called it puppy love, but we were full-grown adults now. Xavier was in his mid-thirties, and I had just turned thirty. This wasn’t puppy love anymore. But I knew it wouldn’t go any further than a crush and one simple kiss in a car at two o’clock in the morning. I mourned the idea that I’d never get to feel those lips again as I let myself into my loft-style condo.
Kicking my shoes off and leaving them by the door, I padded down the hallway until I reached my bedroom. Peeling off my sundress, I opted not to wear any pajamas, and crawled into bed in just my panties, shutting my eyes to the rest of the world for the next few hours.