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Xavier
I tucked my hands into my pockets as I gratefully observed another packed house. It was Friday night, one of Grant’s’ busiest nights of the week. I made a mental note to discuss with my restaurant manager about adding live music to Friday nights as well.
“Xavier, are you listening to me?” Mariah purred lowly.
I directed my attention to the beauty in front of me. With Mariah’s milk chocolate blemish-free skin, a testament to her practice as a dermatologist, she was a looker. No doubt she garnered the attention of countless men.
“My bad, Mariah, what were you saying?” I questioned, tossing her a smile I knew relaxed even the most ruffled of feathers. I shifted closer to her in the booth.
“I was saying we need to go out again. You’re always so busy with one of your restaurants or traveling to open a new one.” She pouted.
“You knew I was busy before we ever got involved.” She also knew she wasn’t the only woman on my roster, but it was obvious she was vying for that coveted top spot.
“I did, but…”
Her voice trailed off to the recesses of my mind as I continued to peer out on the crowd, checking to make sure my wait staff was being attentive to every customer. This was my Friday night routine, popping up at one of my spots and simply sitting and observing how everything was running. I liked to keep my staff on their toes, so I never told anyone before I showed up. Micromanaging wasn’t my thing. I learned early on in this business, I needed to hire smart, capable managers and let them do their thing, but I still kept a vigilant eye on my businesses. It was still my name as C.E.O and owner of Grant Restaurants & Enterprises. I wasn’t one to just sit back and let the money roll in. The restaurant and hospitality business could be volatile as all hell, and I wasn’t about to be caught slipping.
I let my eyes cast from one end of the dining area to the bar where something, or rather, someone caught my eye. It was her profile. Despite her being completely across the room, I noticed Chanel sitting at the bar, drink in hand. From here, it looked like an amaretto sour she was sipping on. The short bob she was sporting hid part of her warm toffee face. I let my eyes skim over her. She wore a sleeveless, floral print sundress that stopped just above the knee. Extremely appropriate for the harsh Houston summer weather. Even with the flowy nature of the dress, it still highlighted her ample cleavage that tapered off into a small waistline. A twinge of guilt crept up in my stomach for looking at my best friend’s little sister the way I was. But when I looked back up at her profile and saw the way her jaw clenched, and her eyes seemed to be staring off into nothingness, I dismissed that thought. Standing abruptly, I buttoned my suit jacket.
“Xavier, where are you going?” Mariah questioned.
“Oh, damn.” I’d completely forgotten about the woman in front of me. “Sorry, Mariah. I’ve got to check on something. Order whatever you’d like and tell the waiter it’s on the house from me,” I grinned, patting her shoulder and moving on.
I heard her suck her teeth as I strutted away, but had other things on my mind. I greeted a few patrons and employees as I moved through the dining room. Although I wasn’t there every day, I made my presence known enough times in the two years I’d owned the place for everyone to know who I was.
Walking up to the bar, I greeted a few more patrons and nodded at Joel behind the bar. The closer I got, the more I could see something heavy was on Chanel’s mind. The tightness of her jaw and the way her lips were pulled back in a tight line said she was contemplating. The sheen of wetness in her eyes told me that whatever it was, it wasn’t sitting well with her.
“Twice in one week. I’m starting to think this is becoming a habit for you,” I stated, easing up alongside her. I should’ve felt bad for the way she jumped in surprise at my voice, but the truth is, I liked catching her off guard.
“Xavier.” She blinked as she pivoted in her seat to face me. Her expression morphed from the despondent look she’d just worn to a lighter one, but the sadness was still in her eyes. “As I recall, it was you who was at my place of work earlier this week,” she retorted.
“And now you're at mine.”
Her eyebrows rose as she looked around. “You own this place?”
I nodded the affirmative as I placed an elbow on the bar, crossing my legs at the ankles.
“I should’ve known. One of the hottest restaurants in the city. Of course, it’d be owned by Xavier Grant.”
“You better act like you know.” We both laughed at that. “I bought this place two years ago and changed the name.
“Hence, the name Grant’s.” She nodded. “You named it after yourself? That’s not egotistical at all.” Sarcasm evident in her voice.
I chuckled at that. “Actually, I named it after my mother. Grant is her given name and she loves old school R&B and raised me on jazz. This place,” I swept my arm wide, around the dining space. “Is my ode to her.”
The look in her eyes softened as her smile grew wide. My chest puffed out a little bit from the look she was giving me.
“Are you here alone?” I had no idea why that mattered, but it did.
“Who, me?” she asked, at the same time Joel brought her another amaretto sour.
“Nah, the man on the moon,” I teased.
“Don’t get smart,” she shot back, and took a sip of her refreshed drink. “It looks like you’re not alone,” she stated, gesturing to something over my shoulder.
I turned to see who or what she was referencing. My eyes locked on Mariah mean- mugging the both of us. “I’m not here with anyone,” I explained, turning back to Chanel.
“Does she know that?” she asked, staring straight ahead.
“Not my problem if she does or doesn’t.” I shrugged. It was the truth. I came to Grant’s alone on official business. Mariah had shown up on her own and had invited herself to sit at my booth. Not being one to dismiss female companionship, I’d let her stay.
“Damn, that’s cold. Ol’ girl clearly is interested.”
“Probably. But you never answered my question.” I pivoted the conversation back on Chanel.
Her eyes swept from left to right as if to say, Do I look like I’m here with anyone?
I chuckled. “And what is a beautiful young lady doing out alone on a Friday night?”
She shrugged. “I just came from dinner,” she explained, a hint of melancholy in her voice.
“Well, whoever it was with didn’t seem to have left you in the best of moods.”
She snorted. “You have no idea.” She sipped down the rest of her drink.
I found myself staring at the elegant slope of her neck as she upturned her glass. The thoughts that ran through my mind had me wanting a damn drink. A second later, Joel was over with another. I lifted my eyebrow to him questioningly. He shrugged and tilted his head toward Chanel before moving on. She must have told him to keep ’em coming. Wherever she was coming from must’ve had her feeling some type of way. I quickly dismissed the thought of man problems, reminding myself that it wasn’t my business either way.
“Excuse me,” she said, digging through her bag to get her phone that had begun buzzing. Her brows knitted into concern when she saw the number on the screen.
I stood up fully, knowing I should step away to give her some privacy, but something kept me planted right where I was.
“Anne Marie? What’s going on?”
The alarm in Chanel’s voice heightened my curiosity.
“Are you okay? Where’s Noah? Okay, okay.”
I could only hear one end of the conversation, but I knew something not good was going on.
“All right, listen to me, don’t move from where you are. I can be there in ten minutes. I’ll call you when I’m there,” Chanel instructed, her voice taking on a serious tone. She disconnected the call and dug around in her purse for her wallet. Pulling it out, she dropped some cash on the bar, presumably to pay for her drinks and tip Joel. “I have to go,” she explained,
stepping down from her seat, but I had to catch her when she nearly tumbled. She was only wearing three-inch heels, so I realized those drinks must have been having an effect on her.
I tightened my grip on her arm. “You’re not driving, are you?”
“Of course, that’s how I got here.”
“Nope. Sorry, you can’t drive like this.” I was adamant. I didn’t know where she was going, but I wasn’t about to let her leave in this condition.
“Like what?”
“From what I saw, you had at least two drinks and started a third.” I inclined my head to the half-empty amaretto sour that remained on the bar. “What kind of business owner would I be if I knowingly let one of my patrons get behind a wheel like this?”
“Xavier, stop playin’. I need to go. I have a client that needs my help.”
“Yeah? And what kind of help would you be if you get in an accident on the way there?”
“You’re really not letting this go?” She tried to tug her arm from my grip, but I was firm. “Joel, would you please tell him I only had one-and-a half drinks and I’m fine?” she tried.
I stared at Joel, daring him to lie to my face. He looked like he wanted no part of this conversation when he said, “That was actually her fourth drink, boss man.”
I looked back at Chanel cockily. She, in turn, glowered at Joel.
“Sorry, beautiful.” He held his hands up, surrendering. “He signs my checks.”
“Damn straight I do. Now back to you.”
“No, there’s no back to me. I need to leave,” Chanel argued.
“And I can’t let you get behind the wheel the way you are,”
She sucked her teeth and stomped her foot, and I’d be damned if it wasn’t the slightest bit of a turn-on. “I’ll just use the autopilot feature on my car,” she retorted.
I chuckled at that. Chanel could be a trip when she didn’t get her way, always had been.
“Nah, I’ll drive you.”
Her head shot back at those words, but I was insistent. “You need to get somewhere, I’ll take you.”
“Xavier, this is ridiculous. I need to go.” Her voice started to take on a shrill note.
“And I just explained I’ll take you wherever you need to go. How would it look if I had to explain to Jason or Elliott that their respective sister and daughter got into an accident after I let her leave my business, drunk?”
She rolled her eyes. “They wouldn’t give a damn, and I’m not drunk.”
My eyebrows shot up at both parts of her statement.
“You’ve had a bit too much to drive. So, you need to get somewhere, I’ll take you.” This time, I grabbed her bag out of her hand, spun her around and guided her toward the door with my hand around her waist.
Her face remained in a stubborn pout, but she acquiesced.
“I need the address where we’re going,” I informed her at the same time I held my passenger door open for her. Once I was in the driver’s side, she rattled off the address, and I plugged it into the car’s navigation system. Minutes later, we were on the highway headed toward a small but upscale community that wasn’t too far from Grant’s. Chanel remained quiet as we drove and I opted not to ask what this little excursion was about. I knew it was something to do with a client of hers.
“Can you pull up a couple of houses ahead?” she asked as the navigation system alerted us that we’d reached our destination. She turned those brown eyes on me beseechingly, and I nodded, letting my car pass the spacious, red-brick house. About three houses down, I stopped and parked, looking around to see if anyone else was out and about. It was a quiet street with a few cars also parked on the road and some people walking their dogs, even this late in the evening.
“I’m going to go get my client. Can you stay here, please?”
She wasn’t begging, but the way she gripped my knee, asking as if she needed my agreement in this, made me realize how serious this was. Furrowing my brow, I stared at her, trying to figure out why the secrecy.
Finally, I nodded, at which she released a breath and exited the car. I watched Chanel in my rearview as she walked a few houses down and turned, glancing behind her before she walked up the walkway to the front door. The shrubbery at the side of the house made it difficult to see the entrance.
I lowered my gaze to my cell phone, pulling it out to check my emails. I had no idea why the hell I was sitting there on a Friday night when I could be doing any number of things. I had at least five other businesses I could be checking on, emails to return, a trip the following week to D.C. to finalize, or at the very least, sliding into some very warm pussy. But nope, my black ass was sitting there, outside some stranger’s house like I was on a damn covert operation. All because something inside me didn’t want to let Chanel come out here alone.
Yeah, she’d been drinking, but any number of times I’d called a cab or an Uber for patrons who’d obviously had too much to drink. And yes, she was my best friend’s sister, so she was more than just a regular patron of Grant’s, but still. This shit didn’t make any damn sense to me.
I shook my head and started typing out an email to my assistant who had some questions about my upcoming trip. Next, I shot an email to my manager at Grant’s to tell him he could start looking into Friday night live music options. He’d been asking for some time now. The restaurant had made it into the black the previous year, and we continued to grow. I had become so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t catch Chanel approaching until she knocked on the passenger window.
“Can you open the back door?”
I had to will myself not to lower my gaze and stare at her breasts in that dress as she bent down.
“Yeah,” I answered, finally noticing we weren’t alone. A petite blond woman with a little boy in her arms slid into the backseat at Chanel’s urging. My eyes bulged when she raised her head, and I saw her left eye was swollen shut, and a nasty cut on her lower lip, which was trembling as tears flowed from her non-swollen eye. She’d been through some shit tonight. My eyes lowered to the scared child in her arms. He looked to be about three years old. Instead of the rambunctious jumping around I’d come to expect of toddlers from being around Jason’s kids, he remained quiet and huddled close to the woman I presumed was his mother. Not until she settled in the back seat did she look up at me and notice me looking at both of them.
Her good eye quickly darted to Chanel, panicked.
“It’s okay, Anne. This is my friend, Xavier,” Chanel told her before closing the back door and climbing into the front seat.
“We need to go here,” Chanel informed me as she typed in an address on my navigation system, not bothering to explain anything. A blind man could see what was happening here, so I opted not to ask questions just yet. Instead, I checked the sideview mirror and pulled off when I saw no cars were passing.
It took about twenty minutes to get to our destination. The ride was awkwardly silent, the only sound in the car being the navigation system and the muffled sniffles of the woman in the back. The whole time, I repeatedly questioned what the hell I’d gotten myself into, and better yet, if this sort of thing was a regular occurrence for Chanel.
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.
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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.
Safe Space (Book 1) Page 4
