Khalid

by Celeste Granger

  Khalid’s voice filled her car with baritone richness. Racquel had an immediate response, her lids slipped down over her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were wider

  “No, no, you didn’t,” Racquel breathed, hating that she felt something when she heard his voice.

  “Do I need to identify myself or you know who this is,” Khalid trilled.

  Racquel was glad to be exiting the highway. She talked on the phone all the time when she drove, but somehow speaking to Khalid made focusing on driving difficult.

  “I know your voice, Khalid,” she replied.

  “That’s a good thing, right? Unless you cringed. You didn’t cringe, did you, Racquel?”

  She wanted to dislike him, to hate the fact that he called, but Racquel found herself smiling. He was funnier than she remembered.

  “I did cringe,” she rebuffed.

  “A lot or a little?” Khalid pressed.

  “I cringed,” Racquel sighed. “Is there a reason for your call?”

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Khalid answered matter of factly.

  “We’ve talked. Anything else?”

  “It’s like that?” Khalid asked. He hoped that Racquel wouldn’t be so closed off, that the conversation they had, the time they spent together the other night, would have hopefully softened her stance when it came to him. There was something powerful when they were together, something irresistible. He thought she felt it, too. But he couldn’t force her. He couldn’t force Racquel to see the man he was today versus who he was years ago. He couldn’t and wouldn’t force Racquel to see him. If she wanted to stay chained to the past, he would have to let her. If there was going to be a change, Racquel would have to come to it herself, on her terms. Khalid had to accept that.

  “That’s the way it has to be,” Racquel reasoned, as much for herself as him.

  “Okay,” Khalid answered. “If that’s how you want it, then I have to respect your position. It was nice talking to you, Racquel.”

  Before she had a chance to say anything more, Khalid was gone. The only thing on the other end of the line was a dial tone. Adjusting her hand on the steering wheel, Racquel disconnected her end of the line.

  It had to be done, she thought to herself. It was better that way, she also said convincingly, and nodded her head that she was right in how she handled it. Pulling into her neighborhood, Racquel slowed the car down to the speed limit. She and Khalid were never meant to be. What happened at the shop was purely physical and should have never happened. Racquel didn’t like regrets. She didn’t want to have to live with them. She didn’t regret what happened, yet Racquel refused to layer the physical with emotional. She pulled into the driveway and depressed the button for the garage door opener. Once the door lifted, Racquel drove the BMW inside and closed the door behind her. She closed out the world, and everything and everyone in it, including Khalid Ali.

  It took Racquel a while to fall asleep. She continued to review the details of the benefit in her mind, mentally taking notes, and even jotting down some notes before placing the pad and pen on her night table. Once settled in her bed, sleep still didn’t find her as no sooner than her thoughts cleared about her upcoming event; unrelenting thoughts of Khalid invaded her mind. For Racquel, it was like emotional persecution, feeling good being in his arms, and then being angry with herself for wanting to be there, enjoying being there. Although she said it aloud and quietly that their entanglement was merely physical, her heart, her body, and her soul begged to differ. Khalid touched a place in her that registered past her pain, past her hurt, past her anger, and past her predetermined resolve, and Racquel had a hard time coming to grips with that. Was she wrong for dismissing him? As she tossed and turned, trying to reconcile her mind, her heart, their history, and her soul, Racquel was still in a quandary. A low sigh passed through her lips as she tried to settle in again. It was so much easier to hate him. Things were so much simpler when he was not in her life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The first time the phone rang, she didn’t hear it. The second time, Racquel was stirred but didn’t fully respond. If it was her phone that was making the noise disturbing her much deserved rest, it should go to voicemail. Then, when Racquel didn’t hear the jarring sound anymore, she drifted back to sleep. And then, as though torment was necessary, the phone rang again, and again. She reached for it without opening her eyes and pulled it into the bed with her.

  “Hello,” she mumbled, barely audibly.

  “Rocky?”

  “Naomi, what do you want,” she uttered, her face still partially buried in her down pillow. “And what is all that noise?”

  “Racquel, I need you to wake up,” Naomi insisted. “This is important.”

  “Okay, okay,” Racquel fussed, rolling over on her back and forcing her eyes to widen although her room remained dark. “I’m up. What is it?”

  “I need you to come down to the shop, okay?”

  “Huh?”

  Racquel’s eyes narrowed as she listened to Naomi speak. There was so much noise in the background; it was difficult to hear.

  “Come to the shop, Rocky. Just come to the shop.”

  There was something in Naomi’s tone that compelled Racquel to move.

  “I’m on my way.”

  Sitting up in bed, she disconnected the line as she pushed the covers off her legs and draped her feet over the side of the bed. Racquel replaced the phone on the nightstand and stood up padding towards the bathroom. She sleepily rubbed her eyes and then reached along the wall until her fingertips touched the light switch. When she flipped it up, Racquel squinted. The light seemed exceptionally bright. Racquel ran her fingers through her closely cropped hair and then turned the faucet on, running water into the sink. She placed a single finger under the tap to check the temperature, and when satisfied, Racquel cupped her hands together and allowed the warm water to pool there before splashing her face. She repeated the process a few more times before turning off the water, grabbing a towel from the rack, and padding her face dry.

  She was sufficiently awake enough to traipse to the closet, grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Racquel undressed and redressed in record time and then retrieved her cell phone before making her way down the hall that led towards the garage. Her purse and keys sat on a small table by the garage door. Activating the security system, Rocky locked the door and got in her car. She hadn’t bothered to see what time it was until the electronic display popped up on the dashboard when she started the ignition. It was two o’clock in the morning.

  Racquel sighed as she pressed the button to lift the garage door. After putting her seatbelt on, she backed out and then hit the button again, not waiting until the door completely closed before she backed out and headed down the street. This was one of those times when Racquel was grateful that her father’s shop was not far from the family home. She could be there in fifteen minutes if there was no traffic.

  When Racquel turned down the street where her father’s shop was located, her heart lurched in her chest, as red and blue lights silently swirled, painting everything in their wake. Slowly, Racquel leaned forward, her speed slowing, and her eyes growing larger as they scanned the street littered with police cars and emergency response vehicles. There was a part of Racquel that thought maybe the police being there had nothing to do with her father’s shop. Yet, recalling the urgency in Naomi’s voice and the persistent nature of the call, Racquel knew something bad happened.

  There were so many cars on the street, Racquel had a hard time finding a parking space. She ended up parking a half a block from the shop. Quickly, she turned off the ignition and climbed out of her vehicle, closing and locking the door behind her. There was a sense of foreboding that loomed heavily in the atmosphere. Rocky’s stomach was tied in knots as her feet moved swiftly towards the shop. That feeling, though, made her want to walk slower, so whatever happened, she could postpone it as long as possible. But she had to know. She had to know what happened.

>   “Racquel?”

  Hearing her name, Rocky’s footfalls halted, and she looked in the direction where the sound came from. Naomi’s face was painted red and blue as she made her way towards Racquel.

  “What’s going on,” Rocky asked when Naomi was finally in earshot. When Na reached out and grabbed Racquel, pulling her in for a hug, that was all the confirmation Rocky needed that something was definitely wrong.

  “What is it?” Rocky pleaded.

  Naomi eased the grip she had on Racquel. When she stepped back, Rocky could see pronounced wrinkles thwarting Naomi’s forehead, and a quiver in her turned down lips.

  “It’s your dad’s shop, Rock,” Naomi sighed.

  Racquel’s chin dropped to her chest, and her shoulders slumped. It took a moment for Rocky to gather herself enough to lift her head and look into Naomi’s eyes. A tear teetered on the corner of Naomi’s lid, threatening to fall.

  “I need to see it,” Racquel uttered.

  Naomi swiped at her eyes with one hand and with her other reached for Racquel’s. She folded her hand into her friends, and the two took measured steps towards the building. The brightness of the swirling colored lights intensified the closer they got. There was a small crowd of onlookers gathered behind the wooden partitions the police set out. The knot in Racquel’s stomach tightened and then churned as her heart pounded in her chest.

  “I’m sorry, you can’t come through here,” an officer said as the duo started past the blockades.

  “I’m the owner,” Racquel replied. “And she’s with me.”

  “Let them through,” another officer called out. He looked to be in charge. As Racquel and Naomi crossed the barrier, the other officer walked in their direction.

  “I’m Captain Lowry,” he announced. “You’re the owner, ma’am?”

  “Yes, I am,” Racquel uttered, trying to peer through the crowd to see the front of her father’s shop. “I’m Racquel Alexander. What’s going on, officer?”

  “Well ma’am, it appears there was a break-in, and some damage was done.”

  “I need to see it,” Racquel stated.

  “I’ll walk you in,” Captain Lowry replied.

  As Captain Lowry pivoted toward the shop and started walking in that direction, the crowd parted in front of him. Racquel and Naomi fell in step behind him. When he paused at the entrance, Racquel got her first look at what ‘some damage’ looked like. The front glass windows on both sides of the door were busted, her father’s name dangling in glass shards threatening to fall. Captain Lowry didn’t have to push the front door open. It was hanging on its hinges.

  “Watch your step,” Lowry warned as the trio crossed the threshold into the shop.

  Both ladies’ eyes immediately dropped to the ground in front of them. They moved carefully, trying to avoid the larger pieces of broken glass that littered the ground. Racquel's chest visibly rose and fell as her eyes raised once they entered the shop. Naomi could feel the grip on her hand, tightening as Racquel’s eyes scanned the pervasive damage. What the captain said was an understatement. Every mirror on the walls was shattered. Draws were tossed, barber chairs were slashed, and her heart dropped further in her chest, seeing graffiti recklessly sprayed on the walls. She could feel the familiar press of tears forming behind her eyes as they walked further in. All of the paperwork on the informational tables joined the broken glass on the floor. The decorations were trashed, and every picture on the walls was askew.

  “What were they looking for?” Racquel mused aloud.

  “Probably a safe,” Captain Lowry said. “They went into the office, couldn’t locate any cash, and then vandalized the place because they were disappointed.”

  Racquel wanted to see it for herself. Releasing Naomi’s hand, she padded to the back of the shop. The glass in the office door was broken, and the door stood wide open. Racquel shook her head as she looked at all of her paperwork strewn about. Her office had been completely tossed. Racquel stepped over to the desk, her father’s desk. She slowly trailed a finger along the edge as her eyes continued to survey the damage. Then she noticed that the picture that sat prominently on her desk had been knocked down. The tears that threatened to fall found success as Racquel knelt and picked up the photograph, carefully turning it over in her hand to avoid being cut. It was a picture of her and her dad. There was such a sinking feeling in her gut as she held the picture in trembling hands. Racquel’s eyes met the eyes of her father, frozen in time. He was so full of life, so full of love, with a smile that reached his eyes and lit up the world around him. Even in the still photo, her father’s smile shone brightly. Racquel’s nose wrinkled as another surge of sad tears spilled from her lids. One dropped onto the photo, blurring the handsome lines of her father’s face.

  “I’m so sorry, daddy,” she cried, overcome with sadness. There was only one thing Racquel never wanted to do, disappoint her father. Standing in his shop, demolished, ruined, she’d done just that, disappointed him.

  Naomi stood at the door, her eyes tearing as she watched her strongest friend crumbling right before her eyes. She’d seen Racquel like this one time before when Rocky’s father passed away. She was so broken, so utterly devastated. Naomi didn’t know if Racquel would ever come back from it. She fell into a deep state of depression. Rocky didn’t want to do anything, see anyone, be anywhere. But she managed to pull herself back from the brink, refocusing her energy, taking charge of her life with a mission to not only honor her father’s legacy but maximize to its highest potential. It became her purpose for getting up every morning and going hard in the paint. She had a focus, something to live for, something to prove to herself that despite everything that happened, her father’s death would not be in vain, nor go unnoted. He was important, not just to Rocky but to the community. That’s what this entire endeavor had been about. And now this.

  “I’m so sorry,” Naomi said, stepping over to Racquel and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. When Rocky leaned her head against Naomi’s shoulder, the weight of everything she carried leaned with her, shaking Naomi on her feet. She had to brace herself to shore her friend up. Naomi wrapped her arms around Racquel, and that’s when they cried together.

  “I know it looks bad, Rocky, but,” Naomi said as she held her friend and consoled her.

  “But what, Naomi? It’s,” she stopped as the tears continued to fall. “Dad’s benefit,” she sighed.

  Naomi wanted to have encouraging words to say. She wanted to be able to convince Racquel that they could pull everything together in time for the benefit. But Naomi wasn’t sure she believed that herself, no matter how much she wished it were so. And she did wish it were so.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Alexander.”

  It was the captain.

  Racquel wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes?”

  “I know the timing isn’t great, but we are going to need a statement from you, and from you as well, ma’am,” he said, directing the last of his comment to Naomi. “If you ladies could go with my officer to the 27th precinct. We will interview you there.”

  Racquel didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t want to stay either. The shop wasn’t the same, and she didn’t know if it would ever be restored to what it had been before her father’s place. She pulled the picture in close to her heart, covering it with both hands. She had to keep her dad close.

  “Come on, Rock,” Naomi encouraged. “We gotta go.”

  Walking back through the vandalized shop sent the same painful currents of angst and disgust as they did the first time Racquel walked through. She didn’t look around anymore, instead, looking straight ahead to the swirling blue and red lights that still painted the early morning sky.

  “Right this way, ma’ams,” the officer leading Naomi and Racquel said.

  “What can I do,” Tareef said as he caught up with Naomi and Racquel being escorted to the police vehicle.

  Racquel didn’t pause. Naomi shortened her steps. “Call Khalid.”

  Cha
pter Sixteen

  “Khalid, it’s me.”

  Even though it was five o’clock in the morning, Khalid was up. He had been for quite some time. Ever since his conversation the day before with Racquel, Khalid kept himself busy. That was the only way he could think of to take his mind off how totally fucked up things were. Khalid did as much business as he could, mergers and acquisitions, negotiations and investments, his specialty. In his office, he had five screens active at all times, tracking the stock markets of every industrialized nation, wheeling, and dealing to maximize Ali International’s financial presence. He’d made the company nearly a million dollars in the last 48 hours. Any other time, Khalid would have been pleased with that. He would have felt accomplished, like what he did to extend his family’s legacy was worthwhile. And it was. He would make sure that their philanthropic and charitable endeavors continued to be funded so that the most important work of Ali International, what they could do for others, continued uninterrupted.

  Yet, Khalid found little satisfaction in what meant so much not long before. It was like they said, when certain things happen to the heart, food loses its taste, brilliant colors dull, and very little matters after that. But that’s the kind of shit people talk about when they talk about love. Khalid wasn’t in love, at least that’s what he said to himself as he tried to stay busy. He swam laps, worked out in his home gym, drove Queen insane. She wanted to nap like all dogs do, but Khalid seemed to be up all the time, disturbing her rest because he couldn’t stop thinking about Racquel. She drove him nuts, pushing him away, but his thoughts of her reeling him back in, the feel of her binding him only for her to push him away again. It was easier when she hated him for real, and they had no contact. But they had contact in the most intimate way. And in that moment, he saw Racquel, the part of her she tried to hide behind a tough, impenetrable exterior, the part she never wanted anyone to see. Khalid saw it though, the softness in her eyes. He felt it, the pull on his heart. He knew it, the touch of her soul to his soul, even though she desperately tried to mask it.