Back to Your Love

by Kianna Alexander

  “Is anything missing here, Dr. Grant?” Officer Riley asked, his pen poised over a clipboard he’d been writing on.

  “There were three tablets that my nurses were training to use so we could go paperless. They’re all missing.” Imani pressed her fingertips to her temple. Those tablets had set her back about fifteen hundred dollars. She hoped her insurance company would replace them without too much hassle.

  Once Imani and Maya had done their part, the officers brought them into the reception area.

  Officer Riley explained, “We’ve taken some photographs, and now we’re going to call in the City-County Bureau of Identification. They’ll come in to take fingerprints and collect evidence here, so you should be closed for a few days to let them finish their work.”

  Imani flexed her fingers. “I understand. Is there anything else we need to do?”

  Officer Suggs shook her head. “Not for now. We’ll hang around for a while, to collect the security footage from the business center’s cameras and talk to the other folks who lease office space here. Once we’ve taken all the witness accounts and have some time to collaborate with CCBI, we’ll get in contact with you.”

  Imani and Maya shook hands with the officers as they left the practice.

  Maya, seated on one of the chairs, asked, “What now?”

  Imani sighed. “Now we call someone to replace the door with something sturdier. We’ll hold off on cleaning up until the investigators have done their thing.”

  “I’m on it.” Maya pulled out her cell phone and opened her Internet browser.

  Imani sank onto the cushion of one of the waiting room chairs, letting her head drop back. It had already been a rough morning, yet the real work was about to begin.

  * * *

  From his seat behind his desk, Xavier used the remote to turn on the small television he kept on a corner shelf. It was just past noon, and he figured he’d watch a little of the local news while he waited for his lunch delivery from one of the local delis.

  He turned the volume up and set the remote down on his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he listened to one of the local reporters talking about the latest battle going on in the school board. He shook his head, thinking of how often the county’s education budget had landed on the chopping block over the past few years. And yet the school board never seemed to do anything about it. As far as Xavier could tell, they were more interested in arguing among themselves and clashing with angry parents and frustrated teachers.

  His ears perked up when the anchor announced breaking news. The anchor’s voice-over continued as the images on the screen shifted from the studio to live video coverage of a break-in. Xavier sat straight up in his chair when he realized where the crime had occurred.

  “This is the scene at Grant Dermatology in west Raleigh, where police have told us there was a break-in overnight.” The female anchor looked into the camera, her handheld station microphone positioned in front of her. “Not many details are available in this ongoing investigation, and police have asked that we do not enter the suite. Earlier, we spoke to Maya Grant-Arrington, the business manager of the practice. Here’s what Mrs. Arrington had to say.”

  A brief taped interview aired next, with Maya acting as a spokesperson for the practice. She looked very poised, considering the situation. “We’re going to spend some time cleaning up and assisting police in any way we can. I’ll be contacting patients to reschedule their appointments. Dr. Grant and I, as well as the rest of the staff, apologize for any inconvenience this may cause our patients. That’s all I can tell you right now.”

  By now, Xavier was on his feet. The live coverage continued, with the female anchor positioned in front of the practice. While the anchor spouted statistics about rising crime in the city, he looked past her, to Imani’s suite. He could easily see the extensive damage done to the exterior and part of the reception area. He could only assume the rest of the inside looked just as bad. The door had been shattered, and there was glass scattered everywhere. The security camera perched above the door dangled from its wires, as if the culprits had attempted to disconnect it. And the decorative planters on either side of the entrance had been overturned, the dark soil spilled all over the floor, the leaves of the plants trampled.

  He curled his hand into a fist, pounded it on the edge of his desk. He’d never known anyone as conscientious and hardworking as Imani, and he knew how important opening her own practice was to her. She didn’t deserve this, and it angered him to know that someone had violated her property and disrupted her ability to earn a living. Crime prevention was a top issue in his campaign, and this incident made him want to work even harder to make the city as safe as it could be.

  He wanted to go over there right now and see what he could do to help. Knowing Imani, though, she’d send him away. She was so put together, so independent and capable. Even though she must have been terrified to find her office that way, she’d soldier on as if she could handle it alone. He could see right through her, though—she needed him just as much as he needed her.

  He thought of Tyrone and Maxwell, how they’d urged him to cool things off with Imani in the interest of his campaign. Imani had also emphasized her desire to take things slowly. That had all changed Friday night, when she’d taken him back to her place and made love to him. Their connection had been electric, undeniable. Something inside him, coupled with the passion they’d shared, made him want more with her. Between the memories of their loving and his hope for their future together, he was having a difficult time reining in his pursuit of her.

  This wasn’t just about him, though. He knew she needed time, especially in light of what had occurred at her practice. The break-in had likely left her angry and frightened; going over there now might ruin everything he hoped to build with her.

  His stomach emitted a loud and insistent growl, bringing his mind back to the present and the lunch delivery he still hadn’t received. What’s taking them so long? He grabbed his desk phone, intending to place a call to the deli. He’d dialed the first three numbers when a knock on his door got his attention. Putting the handset back in the cradle, he went to open the door.

  The smell of olive oil, fresh baked bread, and roasted turkey filled the office as he took the paper bag from the delivery guy. After giving the young man cash enough to cover his meal and a reasonable tip, Xavier closed the door again and took his lunch to the desk. He’d been working on client statements since seven that morning, and by now his stomach was ready to stage a coup. It took him less than ten minutes to polish off the ten-inch Italian turkey sub and the accompanying bag of plain potato chips.

  His hunger satiated, he reached for his drink. He popped open the ice-cold can of Cheerwine, his thoughts going back to Imani. No matter how much she claimed there was nothing between them, he couldn’t help worrying about her. She must have been devastated to come in to work and find her practice in such a condition. There had to be something he could do, something that would help her without setting her off. He picked up his cell phone from the corner of the desk, deciding he’d have a better outcome if he called her instead of just showing up unannounced.

  He dialed her number from his contacts, then propped the phone against his ear with his shoulder.

  It rang three times before she answered. “Hello?”

  He noted how weary she sounded. “Imani, it’s me. How are you doing?”

  She sighed. “Hey, Xavier. I’ve been better.”

  “I saw the news coverage. I’m sorry to hear about the break-in.”

  Silence.

  His brow creased. “Imani, are you still there?”

  “I’m still here.” Her voice cracked, giving away her sadness.

  His heart clenched in his chest. “Is there anything I can do to help out? Anything at all?”

  She sniffled. “I’m not sure, since the police think someone from your center may
have been involved.”

  His eyes widened. “The youth center? Why would they think that?”

  “I don’t know, Xavier. They collected a lot of evidence earlier but didn’t give me many details. But I know they suspect one or more of your wards.”

  His face crinkled into a frown. He didn’t like the way she’d referred to his kids as “wards.” “Imani, I don’t know if that’s the case or not, and it doesn’t really matter. Just let me know what I can do to help.”

  “How can you say it doesn’t matter?” She barked the question at him. “If those little hoodlums did this, I plan on seeking justice to the fullest.”

  He placed his fingertips against his temple. “Imani, I’m gonna need you to stop insulting my kids. Even if someone from the center was involved in this, that doesn’t give you the right to put all of them down.”

  She scoffed. “Whatever.”

  His jaw tightened. Loosening his tie, he spoke again. “Look. If the police contact me or the center’s staff, we’ll cooperate fully. Until then, I’ll look into things at the center, just to see what any of the kids might know about the break-in.”

  “You do that.” She all but shouted the words into his ear before hanging up on him.

  Placing his phone back on the desk, he tilted his head from side to side, hoping to alleviate some of the tension there. His feelings for Imani notwithstanding, he couldn’t accept the way she’d slandered his kids. She probably felt helpless, angry, and frustrated, and he could understand that. Still, he had to draw the line somewhere, and she’d toed that line with her disdain for the kids at the center. He didn’t have any children of his own, and he didn’t know if he ever would. The kids who came to Revels were very near and dear to his heart. Most of them were growing up in circumstances far less than ideal, and he and his staff were determined to have some positive impact in their lives. He wouldn’t stand for having them categorized as hoodlums, not by Imani or anyone else.

  On the television, the midday newscast had ended. Now the theme of some cheesy soap opera filled the office, so he used the remote to flick the television off. His lunch break was over and there were piles of work he needed to complete by day’s end to keep from falling behind.

  Despite that, he took a moment to send a quick text message to Tori, who acted as activities coordinator at the center. The kids were overdue for a community service project. Center policy dictated that they complete one as a group at least every sixty days. He had the perfect project in mind for them, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on Imani’s face when she realized just how wrong she’d been about them.

  The message sent, he turned to his computer and dove back into the day’s work.

  * * *

  Imani, dressed in a black tracksuit, slid her key into the new lock on the door of Grant Dermatology. She’d had the entire door replaced after the investigators finished their sweep of the premises. She’d paid out of pocket for the locksmith and the glass, but she expected her insurance company to reimburse her soon. She would have preferred to have the insurance pay for it, but she couldn’t just leave her business completely unprotected. She had no interest in dealing with any other would-be thieves who might decide to strike while her security was still nonexistent.

  Inside the office, she closed the door and locked it behind her. Some of the glass and dirt from her planters had been swept up yesterday, but a lot of work still remained. She expected Maya and her nurses to arrive within an hour to help her finish cleaning the place up. She went into her office, set her purse down on her bookcase. Averting her eyes from her damaged desk, she pulled her hair back with an elastic band. She reached into the plastic shopping bag from a local home improvement store, grabbing one of the pairs of thick gardening gloves she’d bought.

  She slid her hands into a pair of gloves and started up the hall toward the reception area.

  A knock on the door startled her, and she jumped. Realizing it was probably Maya or one of the nurses, she took a deep breath to calm herself.

  She rounded the corner with her gaze on the glass door, expecting to see one of her employees.

  Instead, she saw Xavier standing there.

  Through the full-length glass pane, she could see all of him. She took in his smiling face, the bright-orange long-sleeved T clinging to his muscled torso, and the jeans gripping his powerful thighs like a second skin.

  A sensual chill raced through her body at the memory of his hard thighs nestled between her own.

  She rolled her eyes, tried to push those thoughts aside. The last thing she needed right then was for him to show up. Thinking about their relationship would be a major distraction at a time like this. Deep down, she knew their connection went much deeper than she wanted to admit, but if they were going to take it slow, she couldn’t allow herself to tap into those feelings.

  As she moved closer to the door, intending on opening it just long enough to tell him to get lost, she noticed that he wasn’t alone.

  There were two young men flanking him, and a few more teenagers standing behind him. Unsure what to make of that, she unlocked the door and opened it a bit. “Xavier, what are you doing here?”

  “Good morning to you, too, Dr. Grant. I brought some of my wards to assist you with cleanup.”

  She noticed the way he drawled the word “wards” and recognized the dig. Folding her arms over her chest, she looked up into his dark eyes. “Are you serious?”

  He looked back at her unflinchingly. “Yes, I’m serious. The youth at Revels participate in at least one community service project every two months. Today, your office is our project.”

  She didn’t really know what to say to that and she wondered if her shock showed on her face.

  He smiled. “Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open, or can we come in and get to work?”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she stepped back to allow them entry. “Come on in.”

  They filed past her in a neat line, with Xavier leading them. She counted nine young men and women. Like Xavier, all of them wore bright-orange shirts that said H. R. Revels Youth Center, as well as a pair of protective gloves. They didn’t make a sound as they stood in the reception area all in a row, as if waiting for instructions.

  Xavier sidled over to her. “We came ready to work, so just let us know what needs to be done and we’ll take care of it.”

  She looked from him to the kids and back. “What made you decide to do this? I wasn’t exactly charitable when I spoke to you yesterday.”

  He leaned close to her. “I figured the best way for you to see what kind of people they really are is to show you. Before the day is out, you’re going to see how off base you were to call them hoodlums.”

  She swallowed the lump of guilt forming in her throat. She knew she’d been short with him yesterday. The pain and anger of the break-in had still been fresh; however, that didn’t excuse what she’d said. In the light of a new day, she realized how wrong she’d been to make such broad generalizations. “I’m sorry, Xavier. I was really emotional yesterday, but I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He watched her silently, as if waiting for her to elaborate.

  She sighed. “This whole thing just brought up a lot of bad memories for me about Dad’s death. It was wrong of me to make that kind of generalization, and I hope you can accept my apology.” She’d pointed out how his passionate support of the city’s youth reminded her of her father, and she felt ashamed that she’d insulted Xavier for possessing a quality she respected.

  He patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll let you slide this time. Just don’t insult my kids again and everything’s cool.”

  She nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. “Okay.”

  “So what do you need us to do?”

  She scratched her head. “There’s still a lot of glass and soil to sweep up in here, lots of papers an
d more broken glass scattered around my office, unraveled exam table liners in the exam rooms…” She rattled off the list of things to be done, realizing just how much of a mess the culprits had left her with. Emotion welled inside her again, and before she could rein it in, a tear slid down her cheek.

  Xavier gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll handle it, okay?”

  She nodded. Brushing away the tear, she went to one of the chairs behind the reception desk to sit down.

  He turned to the kids. “Everybody, listen up. We’re going to split into teams of three and work our way through the office. By the end of the day, I want this whole place looking as good as new. Who are we?”

  “Revels Youth!” The enthusiastic reply of the children echoed through the suite.

  Imani watched as Xavier broke the group up into teams, shaking her head in amazement. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the reception desk and dabbed at her damp eyes. Xavier had one of the biggest hearts of anyone she’d ever known, and his presence at the moment confirmed it. Nothing obligated him or his helpers to be there; they were only there out of a sincere desire to help her.

  Xavier asked her, “Where are your cleaning supplies?”

  She pointed toward the hallway. “The broom closet is the door between my office and the first exam room.”

  “Gotcha.” He dazzled her with another broad smile before disappearing around the corner with the kids in tow.

  Sitting there, Imani felt her heart swell with gratitude. Xavier had taken time out of his own schedule to make this grand gesture. He’d succeeded not only in making her feel foolish for misjudging his mentees, but also in reminding her of what a good heart he had. All this time, she’d been insisting that they only see each other on a casual basis. Now, she was starting to think of him in a much more serious way. Maybe Xavier was too good a man to date casually.