Chapter Five
Chanel
I paced back and forth in the hallway in front of my office as I read the file in my hand. Pacing was a habit of mine when I needed to think. I found moving around helped. My mouth moved as I mumbled the words to myself. The spouse of one of my clients had received the divorce filing and was making things difficult. I’d had to do some legal research on the issue in the state of Texas to figure out my next move.
“Sir, I’m sorry, we don’t have any attorney here by that name,” I heard Liza say, a slight tinge of alarm in her voice.
That made me stop in my tracks. From her voice, it sounded like Liza was at her wit's end with whomever she was speaking to. The next second, I knew why. The male voice that began admonishing Liza was all too familiar. Without thinking, I moved to the outer office.
“Young lady, I know she is here. Her name is Chanel Combs. She works here. Now, if you could just call her and let her know I’m here to see her...”
I rounded the corner to see my father towering over Liza as she sat at her receptionist desk. The look he was giving her would intimidate even the most seasoned attorneys.
“Dad,” I interrupted. “What are you doing here?” I’m sure the look on my face was as confused as Liza’s was frazzled.
“See, I told you she worked here,” he chastised Liza.
“Sir, you asked for a Chanel Combs. This is Chanel Richards.” She looked up at me. “I had no idea you were using a maiden name.”
I swallowed as my father’s surprised gaze turned on me. “I’m not married, Liza,” I told her, avoiding my father’s stare.
“You go by Richards?” he asked in a voice that almost sounded wounded. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe he was hurt by the fact that I chose to go by my mother’s maiden name instead of his.
“Excuse us, Liza.” I peered up at my father. “My office is down the hallway.” I turned, expecting him to follow me.
“Dad, please sit. What can I do for you?” I asked as I sat behind my desk, crossing my legs, arms folded. He looked taken aback by my cool demeanor but didn’t comment.
“You go by Richards?” He remained standing.
I nodded. “It’s just easier.”
The nonchalant nature of my tone made his brows furrow. “How so?” he asked as he finally sat, unbuttoning his suit jacket.
“Everyone in the legal field knows the name Combs. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to make the connection of Chanel Combs being the daughter of the great Elliott Combs.” I swear the bit of scorn in my voice was unintentional, but I couldn’t hold it back. “I want my job and clients coming to me because of my name. Not someone else’s.”
He stared at me, head tilted, trying to decipher what I really meant. He needn’t have bothered. I said what I meant. I didn’t need anyone attributing my success or failure in my field to nepotism, especially since my father had been the biggest opponent of my career in the first place.
“So, back to my original question: what are you doing here?”
“To see if you wanted to have lunch?”
I choked on the water that I’d begun sipping. I held up my hand when it looked like my father was standing to come around and help me. “I-I’m fine,” I squeaked out. “Just went down the wrong pipe.” I cleared my throat. “Lunch? Are you sure you’ve got the right child?”
“Chanel,” he began, his face pinched.
“I’ve already eaten. Was that all?”
“Well, no. Marjorie and I—”
“So Marjorie is the reason you’ve come down here?” I knew it couldn’t have been his idea. It made sense that that wife of his was behind his sudden appearance at my office, on the other side of town from his.
“Yes, Marjorie and I,” he emphasized the last word, “wanted to invite you to the firm’s annual gala. It’s next Saturday evening.”
I sat, stunned. I’d known the gala was coming up. Each year for the last twenty years or so, his firm hosted a gala to raise funds for different causes. I hadn’t attended one since college, using the excuses of living on the east and then the west coast
s
as reasons why I couldn’t attend. The last thing I expected was for my father to invite me, in person no less.
“Where is it going to be?”
“At the Museum of Natural Science. In the Burke Planetarium.”
I raised an eyebrow. The extent of my father’s reach never failed to amaze me. I knew it was not an easy feat to get an event at Houston’s Museum of Natural Science, in the planetarium, no less.
“It starts at seven-thirty. Here’s the invitation with all the details. And I’ll arrange a car to pick you up, so you won’t have to drive home,” he began, standing up.
“Wait. I’m not sure I’ll even be able to attend,” I bluffed.
His head tilted as he looked down on me, wearing the same condescending expression he would give me as a child when I did something to disappoint him. Though I felt scolded by that look, I refused to flinch or avert my gaze.
“Chanel, I’ll see you at seven-thirty next Friday. All the details are arranged.”
“So, this visit wasn’t to ask me, but to tell me I was coming to your event?” My anger began to rise at his audacity.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me twist your arm. Marjorie would like you to be there.”
Marjorie. Not him. At those words, I had to look away because I didn’t want him to see how his statement cut me. I’d spent years telling myself my father’s indifference toward me didn’t matter, but apparently, somewhere deep down, that was a lie.
“Fine.” I hated how weak my voice sounded.
He nodded, rebuttoned his suit jacket, and paused as if he wanted to say something else, but what else was there left to say? He must’ve come to the same conclusion because no words came, and after a second, he left.
Once he was gone, I swung around in my chair and simply stared out my office window. I don’t know how long I remained like that until my office phone rang. It was Liza alerting me that my three o’clock client had arrived. After telling her to send them to the conference room, I managed to regroup and refocus on work. But the rest of the day felt as if it crept past.
****
“Hey, Donna. How’s it going?” I spoke into my cell. It was close to four-thirty Friday night, and I was leaving work a little early to get ready for the gala that night.
“Have you spoken to Anne Marie recently?”
I immediately lost interest in the files I had in my hand and gave my full attention to the other end of the phone. Something in Donna’s tone told me this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“I talked to her earlier this week. She had to cancel our appointment. Said she had a doctor’s appointment she forgot about. She skipped out, didn’t she?”
Donna sighed heavily. “Looks like it. I went up to her room to check on her and Noah two days ago, and it was empty. I didn’t want to call her cell because, well, you know.”
I did know. It wasn’t always the best means to contact a woman in Anne Marie’s position via her cell. Even though the shelter number would come up as “private,” chances were her husband was keeping tabs on her cell phone records. I’d seen that happen quite a bit. It was why workers at the shelter made sure to ask if the number they had was safe to call and leave messages at. I thought back to how Anne Marie sounded during our last conversation.
“She sounded frazzled the last time we spoke, as if she was in a rush to get off the phone. I just assumed it was because she needed to get to her appointment. Damn it! I should’ve seen the signs,” I chided myself.
“Come on, Chanel. You know better than that. We’ve been through this too many times. We do our best and we’re there when they need us.”
Donna’s voice helped calm my nerves. She’d been a social worker for more than twenty years and specialized in domestic violence. It wasn’t her first time having to make this type of phone call, I’m sure.
“I know, I know.” Hell, I’ve been there, I reminded myself, remembering how my own best friend couldn’t convince me to leave the person who was hurting me. “Okay, just know if you hear anything from her—”
“You’ll be the first person I’ll call.”
“Cool, and I’ll do the same.”
“All right, listen. Don’t beat yourself up about this. This isn’t on you.”
“I know. I just wished that made it feel a little better, you know?”
“Don’t I,” she quipped.
“I’m leaving work early, but my cell is always with me. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me, all right?”
“Sure thing. Go enjoy your weekend.”
Not likely, I thought as I considered the event that I was attending that evening. After hanging up with Donna, I grabbed a few work files, stuffed them in my briefcase and was on my way out the door. My final thoughts lingered on Anne Marie. I hoped she would be okay no matter what decision she’d made, but in my gut, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Very rarely do abusers ever see the ray of light and stop abusing without some type of major intervention.
****
A few hours later, I found myself taking in the décor of the Burke Planetarium. The theme for my father’s law firm’s gala was “an evening under the stars,” which made this the perfect location. The entranceway had been transformed to a catering space, allowing people to mingle. I smoothed the waist of my champagne-colored, sleeveless bodycon dress that stopped two inches below my knees. The dress had a split up the middle, about halfway up the thigh, giving it an alluring yet classy look. My hair was in its classic bob with a deep side part, giving one side a little more height than usual. I snagged a glass of champagne from a waiter who walked past. My goal was to make my presence known, say a few hellos, and leave as soon as possible. I looked around, noting a few familiar faces of those who worked with my father, or had in the past.
“You came!” a cheery voice greeted from behind me.
I smiled in spite of myself. “Hi, Marjorie. Yup, I showed.”
“I’m so glad you did. Your father told me he invited you, but I got the impression…” her voice trailed. She looked stunning in a long, fitted red gown that was also sleeveless with a split up to the knee. Her dark hair was pinned up with a few tendrils of curls falling around the sides of her face.
“You look beautiful,” she interrupted my thoughts.
“Thank you,” I stated, rubbing my hand down the side of my dress. “You look gorgeous.”
“Let’s see if we can find your father around here. The last time I saw him he, was…” She began shifting her head around, looking for my father.
I desperately wanted to tell her it wasn’t necessary to find him, but within seconds, she was waving him over. My face fell when I saw the man my father was speaking to. “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. There was no avoiding either one of them as they walked toward me and a beaming Marjorie.
“Honey, look who made it. Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” Marjorie greeted as my father and his companion joined us. I could feel the sincerity in her words, and I wished my feelings matched hers. Despite myself, I found that I couldn’t hate Marjorie the way I wanted to.
“Hello, Chanel. Marjorie’s right, you look stunning. Doesn’t she, Lamont?” My father’s deep voice penetrated my thoughts.
I willed myself not to roll my eyes. Why’d he have to include him in this conversation?
“Yes, she does,” Lamont answered.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from telling him to fuck off.
“Thank you,” I stated, only making eye contact with my father.
“I’m very happy you came, sweetie.”
My head snapped back in surprise. I simply stared at my father. It was a rare occasion whenever he used any term of endearment for me, and the last time he’d done it, I was very young.
“Um, thank you. It looks great in here. The silent auction seems to be doing well.” I tipped my head toward the row of tables where people gathered, writing in their bids for items being auctioned off.
“Yeah, we hope so. I convinced Elliott to add a women’s shelter to the list of the donation recipients this year,” Marjorie interjected.
“That’s great.” I knew how much shelters could use the donations raised there that night.
“Well, you two must have some catching up to do,” my father mused, looking between Lamont and me.
I simply took another sip of champagne, wishing it was something stronger.
“Honey, Lamont and Chanel were really good friends in high school and college. Dated for a while too. For a second, I thought they’d wind up married. Would’ve been great to have a top NFL wide receiver in the family,” he laughed.
“Are you okay?” Marjorie and Lamont questioned at the same time as I choked on my last sip of champagne.
I held up my hand. “I’m fine,” I coughed.
“Honey, there’s someone I want you to meet,” my father said to Marjorie. “You two catch up. Chanel, I’d like to speak with you sometime before you leave.”
I squinted at my father, wondering what he’d want to talk to me about. Before I could get a chance to ask, he’d took Marjorie by the elbow, escorting her toward whomever he wanted her to meet. That left me alone with Lamont, who apparently didn’t have the good sense to leave when my father did.
“You look great, Chanel.”
I didn’t bother to thank him.
“I can’t believe how highly your father speaks of me sometimes. I mean, after what happened between us, you know.”
I finally did roll my eyes. “My father doesn’t know.” Not like he’d care anyway. Lamont was about to begin his eighth season in the National Football League and was one of the most notable players. He’d been a client of my father’s firm since his rookie season.
“You never told him?” The surprise in his voice made my hand twitch, wanting to smack him.
“Tell my father that my big-time football player boyfriend cheated and impregnated my then-best friend our senior year of college?” I felt satisfied as I watched Lamont’s face flinch. “No, I never told him that.”
“Why not?”
I frowned. I’d known Lamont since high school. He of all people knew the rocky relationship I had with my father. But I shrugged. “It never seemed to come up in friendly conversation, you know?” I gave him a deadpan expression. I stared at his sandpaper-
colored face, strong jaw and thick frame. The years had been good to Lamont, if looks were any indication.
“Chanel?”
I closed my eyes, wishing for the ground to swallow me whole. I turned to see a hesitant-looking Larsa approaching me. Larsa was Lamont’s wife and my ex-best friend. She and I had been BFFs since grade school and even decided to go to the same college just to be close to one another. Observing her petite frame, glowing skin, and long dark hair, I could see the years had been good to her as well. Well, isn’t this just perfect.
“Larsa,” I greeted, taking another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Why the hell don’t they have anything stronger?
“I didn’t expect to see you here. How are you?” she asked.
I wouldn’t have expected them or anyone else to think I’d be there. It'd been close to a decade since I’d attended one of these events.
“I’m well.”
Larsa paused, looking up at her husband. “Look, Chanel, I know—”
I held up my hand, not wanting to hear what I knew she was going to say next. “Don’t, Larsa. It’s been almost ten years. You both look happy. Congratulations and enjoy the rest of your evening.” I turned to walk away and smacked right into something solid and immovable.
When strong hands came out to steady me, and a current of electricity shot through me, I looked up and locked onto coffee brown eyes that were sparkling with mischievousness. I couldn’t look away from that gaze even if I wanted to.
“You okay?” That deep voice washed over me and I had to bite my bottom lip.
“I-I’m fine.” I stepped back and out of Xavier’s arms.
His lips spread into a grin and that goddamn dimple came out to play. For the briefest of moments, my knees felt a little wobbly. But I quickly recovered.
“Thank you,” I stated.
“Lamont, Larsa,” Xavier nodded. “You two are looking good. How’re the kids?” He smiled at the couple.
I noticed Larsa’s eyes quickly dart over to me before they turned back to Xavier. Theirs wasn’t a conversation I wanted to stay around to hear.
“Enjoy your evening,” I said to the trio, and attempted for a second time to make my departure.
“You’re not leaving yet, right? I just got here,” Xavier said.
“Uh, no. I…there’s a few people I need to speak with. You enjoy your conversation with the Williamses.” I gestured to Lamont and Larsa and quickly departed. I could feel eyes on me as I walked away, but I didn’t dare turn around to see which one of the three was watching me. Sighing, I placed my clutch under my arm and decided to visit the bidding table. There were some participating non-profit organizations I could give donations. I figured if I hung out here for a while, I could avoid bumping into anyone else I was trying to avoid.