Safe Space (Book 1)

by Tiffany Patterson

  “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.

  Chapter Four

  Xavier

  “Come on, X. I know you can do better than that weak shit,” Jason mocked as I struggled to lift the final rep of the chest presses.

  “Man, fuck you, Jay. I don’t see your ass bench-pressing two-hundred-and-eighty pounds,” I retorted as I sat up on the bench, wiping the sweat from my face.

  “Man, whatever. You’re just looking a little light today. You have a rough weekend?” He smirked.

  “Nah, I ain’t get into nothing this weekend. I had to tie up some loose ends for my trip to D.C. this week and visited some of my spots. We’re gonna start live music on Friday nights at Grant’s, so I spent the weekend lining up interviews with bands and a few artists for that spot.”

  I stood, stretching, feeling good after my rigorous workout. Jay and I both had crazy busy schedules, but whenever we were home, we’d hit the gym first thing in the morning, every Tuesday and Thursday. It helped that the luxury gym was located in the same office building that housed his law firm, and just a few blocks from my main office.

  “That’s what’s up, I been telling you for a minute it was time to up the entertainment over there. You’ve got the cash flow for it, and it’ll likely bring in even more revenue, not that the place needs it.”

  “I know man, but you know I like being cautious with mine.”

  “True,” he grinned. “You ’bout to hit the treadmill?”

  “Yeah.” I liked to end my workouts with at least a three-mile interval run to get my heart pumping and a good sweat. “But I wanted to talk to you first.”

  He stopped short from gathering his towel and the weight-lifting gloves he’d taken off. Peering up at me curiously, he jerked his head at me, urging me to speak.

  “When’s the last time you spoke to Chanel?”

  I saw the surprise on his face at the mention of his sister.

  “Chanel? Uh, she came over Pops’ this past Friday for one of Marjorie’s family dinners.”

  “Friday, you said?” The same night she’d showed up at Grants looking all despondent.

  “Yeah, why?”

  I contemplated telling him how she’d appeared at the restaurant and ask if he knew why, but it wasn’t my place. I knew their family history was a complicated one, to say the least. But her comment about Elliott and Jason not caring if she’d gotten into an accident still fucked with me. There was no way she could really believe that.

  I’d been thinking about Chanel all weekend, in spite of my best efforts not to. The way she looked as she sat at the bar, trying to rush out to save a client in trouble, and that damn kiss. Most importantly, the kiss remained on my mind for the last four days. It was too short to have even enjoyed it well, but I knew I wanted it to happen again. When I first saw her leaving work a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her legs and ass in that skirt. And once she’d put her lips on mine, her ass was just begging for trouble. I looked at Jason and figured I’d skip that last part. I’m sure my best friend didn’t need to hear about another man wanting to taste his sister. Especially not his best friend.

  “I saw her Friday night when she popped into Grant’s for a drink.”

  “Oh, word.” His brow furrowed. “She’d left dinner a little early, saying she needed to pick up some work files.” He rubbed the back of his neck contemplatively. “Grant’s ain’t really near her work office though.”

  “Yeah, she had a couple of drinks, so I gave her a ride home.” I decided to skip the part about picking up her client and taking her to an abuse shelter.

  “That’s what’s up. I’m sure my sister put up a fight,” Jay laughed.

  “Man, she told me she’d just use the autopilot feature in her Tesla.” I laughed at the way her face had screwed up incredulously at me when I told her I couldn’t let her leave.

  “Yeah, sounds like her.”

  “But listen, I’m thinking of asking her out. Like, on some date type shit and I just wanted to know if you’d be cool with that?” As a man, I needed to come to my best friend honestly about my intentions toward his sister. I’m not saying I was trying to marry her or even get involved like that, but I definitely wanted to see more of her.

  Jason immediately started cracking up, covering his mouth laughing. “Get the fuck outta here, man.” He continued laughing.

  I sighed heavily. “I’m not joking, Jay.”

  My tone must’ve made him realize I was serious. His brows rose, and the laughing stopped. He stared at me, then his face scrunched up. “Yo, what the fuck happened Friday night?”

  Damn, his anger was peaking. “Nothing, Jason. Seriously. I gave her a ride home. I’m just saying, There’s something there. And I’d like to explore it, if she’s open to it, of course.” She was open to it if that kiss was any indication.

  “Nothing happened?” He looked at me skeptically.

  “Jay.”

  “I’m just sayin’ you come to me talking about you saw my baby sister Friday night and gave her a ride home. Now you’re talking about taking her out. I’ve got questions.”

  I nodded. “Understood. And you’re my Ace since before we was teens. I wouldn’t disrespect our friendship by sneaking around with Chanel. But I’m telling you what it is.” I tried to remain calm. I’ve never had to go to another man to discuss just the possibility of dating their relative. But Jay wasn’t just anybody; for all intents and purposes, we were brothers. Ordinarily, that would sorta make Chanel like my sister, but there was nothing sisterl
y about the visions I’d been having of her since that kiss. Hell, since before that kiss.

  “Okay, I respect that, man. I mean, you’re both consenting adults, and I know you well enough to know you don’t move sloppy and shit where women are concerned. If she’s up for it, it’s whatever.” He shrugged, obviously not completely bowled over by the idea, but okay with it, for now. “Hell, I mean, you may be barking up the wrong tree anyway. Chanel hasn’t dated or had a serious relationship since she broke up with her fiancé five years ago.”

  “That you know of.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, none she’s told me about, and none that I found out about. We didn’t talk much while she was in L.A., but I had people watching her. No major boyfriends.”

  “You had spies on your sister?” I laughed.

  “Man, I had to. It’s not like she came home often or told us what was going on in her life. You know how busy work keeps me. I just wanted to make sure she was doing okay out there. I know she wouldn’t tell me or my pops if something wasn’t right.”

  I remained silent, but I’d gotten that impression from her.

  “But look, I respect you coming to me. It’s going to take some getting used to if anything pops off, but as long as Chanel’s cool, I’m cool.” He rose as I did. We dapped it up and gave the one-arm hug before continuing the rest of our workout. With that out of the way, I took the rest of my workout to figure out how and when I was going to approach Chanel. I figured I’d wait until I returned from D.C. the following week.

  ****

  Of course, I’d made plans, but apparently, the big man upstairs must’ve had a different idea in mind. The next day, stepping out of another meeting with one of my financial advisors, I ran into none other than the object of my affections lately. I just barely managed to control the smile that wanted to make its way to my face.

  She was again coming out of the elevators, dressed in a navy blue skirt that stopped just above her knees, into which was a tucked cream top that was sleeveless with a ruffled collar. The heels she wore set off the sexy-ass office look without her even trying, I’m sure. She began walking toward me, but stopped short, turning to someone behind her who’d called her name.