Back to Your Love

by Kianna Alexander

  Chuckles filled the room, and Xavier laughed in spite of his stormy mood.

  Tyrone shook his head. “That would be nice, but Givens is too smart for that. He’s held on to his seat for three terms already, and for good reason. He’s a shrewd politician.”

  Loosening the blue-striped tie around his neck, Xavier spoke up. “So, what do you have in mind for these last few days, T?”

  With a sly look, Tyrone retracted his pointer and placed it in his shirt pocket. “Well, you have potentially damaging information on Givens.”

  Xavier shook his head. “I’m not going down that path.” And he wouldn’t, no matter how much they badgered him. His parents had raised him better than to participate in mean-spirited gossip, even if the information was true. Besides, he didn’t want to drag Imani back into this. His anger at her lying ways aside, he knew it would crush her to have that part of her past become fodder for the local news.

  Tyrone rolled his eyes. “You keep saying you want to be the bigger man, but you know good and well if Givens had this kind of intel on you, he’d drop a dime on you in a hot second.”

  Xavier met his friend’s gaze. “Don’t you get it? That’s why I’m keeping it to myself. If I release the information, I’ll be no better than him.”

  Sighing in resignation, Tyrone turned to face the staffers present. “Well, our candidate has spoken. So what’s on the schedule to keep the clean campaign going?”

  Vera announced, “Xavier’s booked for a meet and greet at the Museum of History tomorrow, and he’ll be inspecting the progress on his community center Wednesday. News 14 is going to cover both events.”

  Tyrone’s tight-lipped expression relaxed a bit. “I really think holding off on announcing the building of this community center was a good idea. With Givens out trying to convince the populace he’s the Second Coming, this will be our ace in the hole.”

  Xavier chuckled at his friend’s use of “the Second Coming.” “What’s Givens up to that’s got you pissed off?”

  Tyrone announced, “All right, people. You’re dismissed. See you at the museum tomorrow.”

  As the small contingent of staff exited the room, Tyrone eased into the chair next to Xavier. “You haven’t seen the news today, I’m guessing.”

  He shook his head. “No. What did I miss?”

  Tyrone’s face scrunched into a disgusted expression. “Givens had a camera crew follow him to a homeless shelter. The footage has been playing all day.”

  Xavier shook his head in amazement. “He’s really laying it on thick, huh?”

  Tyrone nodded. “He even took the opportunity to bring up your inexperience while he was there, as if that had anything to do with the people he was supposedly visiting.”

  “This guy is a real piece of work.” Xavier wasn’t surprised Givens was out spreading goodwill this close to the election. But to use those homeless people to sell himself to the public was pretty low, even for a man like Givens. Obviously he lacked morals, scruples, and good taste.

  Tyrone stood. “I’m headed out, man. I’m supposed to meet Georgia for dinner.”

  Xavier exchanged a quick hug with his old friend. “I’ll see you tomorrow, T.”

  “Later.”

  After Tyrone left, Xavier sat in the empty conference room, trying to rein in his thoughts. Was he really so bent on running a clean campaign? Or was it more about sparing Imani from very public embarrassment? A voice inside his head reminded him that she’d lied by keeping her past a secret. But had she really? She’d told him months ago that she didn’t think his being involved with her was a good idea. She’d come up with myriad excuses about bad timing, being too occupied with other things, and not wanting to get serious with him. She’d tried her best to shake him, but he’d been so determined to be with her, he’d ignored her every attempt to push him away. She’d obviously been aware of the damage she might do to his campaign if word of her harassment suit got out. Now that everything was out in the open, he wished he’d listened to her then.

  Parts of him wanted nothing more than to see Givens exposed for what he really was: a philandering, dishonest, lazy politician who cared more about status than his constituents. If he went public with what Imani had told him, Givens would go down in flames for all to see.

  As much as he felt betrayed that she hadn’t been honest with him, he missed her. He’d been dreaming of having her in his arms again for a decade, and just when the dream was a reality again, things had gone terribly wrong. Unfortunately, he couldn’t simply turn off his feelings for her, even in the midst of his red-hot anger.

  Immediately, he pushed the thought away. There was no way he could love someone like her, someone he didn’t trust.

  Getting up, he gathered his briefcase and strode from the room.

  Chapter 17

  Imani reclined on her sofa, reading over a patient file. Wearing an old, comfortable blue strapless dress and a black silk cap on her hair, she stretched out and sank farther into the cushions. She’d already completed her usual Tuesday-night routine of giving herself a pedicure, and the foam toe separators remained in place. She knew Maya wouldn’t have approved of her doing paperwork when she was supposed to be relaxing, but she saw no reason she shouldn’t get some work done while the orange polish on her toes dried.

  As Imani used her red ink pen to make a note on the file, a pounding at her front door startled her.

  Turning her upper body toward the door, she scrunched up her face in annoyance. Who in the world would be beating her door down after nine o’clock?

  The knocking came again, followed by a shouted greeting. “It’s Maya. Let me in!”

  A bit perturbed, she put the file on the coffee table and made her way to the door. When she swung it open, Maya stood on the other side of it, grinning widely. Her cousin looked gorgeous in her silver-sequined cocktail dress and sky-high black pumps. Her wavy hair was twisted and pinned low on her neck.

  Eyes wide, Imani took in her cousin’s attire. “Maya, what are you doing here? And where are you going dressed like that?”

  Maya threw her head back and laughed, her chandelier earrings dancing. “We’re going out. So go get dressed.”

  Imani folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Uh-uh. It’s Tuesday night. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Pushing her way inside, Maya waved her off. “Spare me the ‘it’s a school night’ speech. You sound like my mama.” Perching on the arm of the sofa, she stared expectantly.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Imani tried to be firmer as she repeated herself.

  “Yes, you are. We saw our six hundredth patient today, and we’ve been in business less than six weeks.” Maya smiled widely. “I’d say that’s reason to celebrate. Wouldn’t you?”

  Six hundred patients? Imani hadn’t had a clue she’d seen that many. With everything going on with the break-in, and then with Xavier, she’d been less than focused the last few weeks. Looking at her cousin, she saw her waiting, tapping her toe on the carpeted floor. It was pretty obvious that Maya was not taking no for an answer, and Imani supposed the milestone was worth celebrating. “All right. Just let me find something to wear.”

  Seeming satisfied, Maya stood. “That’s better. Me, Tara, and Leona will wait for you in the car. Make it snappy.” That said, she went out the door, closing it behind her.

  Imani sidled into her bedroom. In the small closet, she rifled around for a suitable outfit. Her cousin had gone all out, so she supposed she would as well.

  She slipped into a show-stopping lemon-yellow wrap dress that fit her figure like a second skin. After adding strappy gold high-heeled sandals, gold hoop earrings, and a plethora of gold bangles, she moved on to her hair. She placed a yellow flower near her left ear, and let her hair hang loose, grazing her shoulders. With a touch of pink lip gloss and a bit of shimmery gold eye shadow, she looked at her ref
lection in her bedroom mirror and declared herself ready.

  A few minutes later, she descended the stairs from her apartment. The nip in the air, common in early November, made her wish she’d grabbed a sweater. Knowing her cousin had probably grown impatient, she tried to ignore the chill as she approached Maya’s dark-blue sedan.

  Sliding into the passenger seat next to her cousin, she closed the door behind her. “Is this acceptable, Maya?”

  Her cousin nodded approvingly. “You look pretty damn hot, girl. With that bait, you might just catch a big one.”

  Imani wanted to tell her that after what had happened with Xavier, she wasn’t interested in hooking up, but she thought better of it. She offered her cousin a quick smile and turned to greet Leona and Tara in the backseat as Maya navigated the car out of the parking lot.

  During the ride, Imani found herself getting drawn into the infectious excitement the other women gave off. If Maya was correct about the patient count, then her practice was indeed thriving. A successful practice had always been her goal, so she let the jubilant spirit take hold of her, pushing away thoughts of Xavier and past events that couldn’t be changed.

  The popular and long-standing local R & B station, K97.5, blasted from the speakers of Maya’s radio. The DJ announced a throwback track, and then the familiar opening notes of Mary J. Blige’s “Real Love” filled the cabin of the car.

  In typical Maya fashion, her cousin yelled, “Oh, that’s my jam!” She removed one hand from the steering wheel and waved it wildly over her head.

  Imani shook her head at her antics, but soon enough, they were all belting out the lyrics. She had fond memories of many an awkward middle school dance being made less awkward by the common love of Mary’s music. Mary J. Blige could always be counted on to fill up a dance floor.

  As they arrived at their destination, a local twenty-five-plus nightclub called Cagney’s, Imani got out of the car and followed her cousin and friends to the door. Once they’d paid admission and made their way inside, they all took seats at side-by-side stools running along the glass-topped bar.

  “What’ll it be?”

  Imani glanced up to see the darkly handsome, blue-eyed bartender’s gaze fixed firmly on her. His attention was a little lower than she preferred, but she decided not to make a fuss. “I’ll have an appletini, please.”

  He smiled broadly. “Coming right up.” He took the other ladies’ orders, then went to prepare the drinks.

  Maya whistled. “Go ahead, Imani! We haven’t been here five minutes and you already got the bartender drooling!”

  Imani could feel herself blush, even as she stifled a chuckle. “Shut up, Maya.” Her cousin’s outrageous behavior soon had her laughing once again.

  When the drinks arrived, Leona raised her glass. “A toast, to Dr. Grant—the best boss a girl could ever have, who’s on her way to astronomical success.”

  As they clinked their glasses, Imani smiled, touched by the kind words. “Thanks, ladies. I really appreciate you all doing this for me.” She’d been surprised by Maya’s sudden appearance at her door and the impromptu celebration. Still, she needed to get out of the house, and a little enjoyment would go a long way in helping her put pesky thoughts of Xavier out of her mind.

  Imani had neared the bottom of her glass and was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol when she felt an insistent tap on her shoulder.

  Turning, she came face-to-face with Cassidy Lyons. Her long brown hair looked disheveled, as did her red halter top and white miniskirt. Her green eyes glistened with the effects of liquor.

  “Hey, Imani,” Cassidy trilled, slurring the words a bit. She grinned like the Cheshire cat.

  “How are you, Cass?” Imani smiled back, waiting to see what she’d say next. Maya, Tara, and Leona seemed similarly inclined, because they were all watching Cassidy.

  “I came out to celebrate my independence.” Cassidy flopped down on a stool next to her. “So I’m doing great. How ’bout you?”

  “We’re celebrating the success of the practice,” Maya volunteered.

  Cassidy looked pleased. “Good, good. I always knew you were going to do well for yourself, Imani.”

  “Thank you.” Imani’s eyes locked with Cassidy’s, and for a moment, her old friend’s eyes became as clear as day.

  “I left you-know-who,” Cassidy whispered. “And tomorrow, everything is gonna be set right.”

  Imani nodded, aware of the significance of Cassidy’s words. “That’s great, Cass.”

  Cassidy slid from the barstool and turned to leave. “You ladies have a good night,” she called. Then, she walked away, disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

  After she’d gone, Tara announced, “Well, that was weird.”

  A collective murmur of amusement rose from the group, but Imani looked in the direction Cassidy had gone for a long while.

  * * *

  With a root beer in his grasp, Xavier made himself comfortable on his sofa. His evening plans included nothing but snacks and watching Thursday night football. On the coffee table in front of him, he’d set down a big bowl of pretzels and a tray of hot wings. He’d turned the big screen television in his living room to the day’s gridiron matchup between Carolina and Tampa Bay, and looked forward to watching the game. He felt certain the action on screen would distract him from thinking about Imani.

  He settled in to listen to the talking heads make their usual pregame commentary. Before he could absorb any of it, the sound of someone pounding on his front door captured his focus. With a grunt, he got up from his comfy seat and went to the door. As he got closer, he heard familiar voices coming from outside.

  He swung the door open to find Tyrone, Maxwell, and Orion on his doorstep. All three men were carrying plastic grocery bags and food containers. “What y’all want?”

  Tyrone ribbed him. “What do you think we want? We wanna watch the game on your big screen.”

  Orion, wearing his trademark grin, said, “Yeah, and we brought grub, so let us in!”

  “Even Max?” Xavier jerked his head in Maxwell’s direction. While O and Ty were decked out in Carolina gear, Max, in his typical contrary fashion, wore a Tampa Bay jersey.

  Max moved his sunglasses to the top of his head. “I brought wings, so I know you’re not going to leave me out here.”

  Pretty shady of Max to prey on my wing weakness. Shaking his head, Xavier stepped back to allow his frat brothers entry into his house.

  The three of them filed in, heading straight for the kitchen. Xavier followed close behind and helped them empty the bags and unwrap the bounty of snacks they’d brought.

  As he removed the plastic dome lid from Max’s extra-large tray of buffalo wings, Xavier asked, “Where’s Bryan this time?”

  Orion dumped a bag of potato chips into a plastic bowl. “He texted me last night. He’s in Italy, meeting with some industry people. Said he couldn’t get out of the trip. Something about Italian silk.”

  It amazed Xavier how hard it was these days for all five of them to be in the same place at the same time. He didn’t think too much about it, because he would never begrudge his brothers their successful careers.

  They spent a few moments preparing food and drinks, ferrying them into the living room. The sounds of their footsteps tramping back and forth across the hardwood floors echoed around Xavier. He flopped down on the sofa and turned up the volume on the television, so he could hear the commentary over their marching.

  Finally, everyone took a seat. Tyrone joined Xavier on the sofa, Orion took up residence in the matching armchair, and Maxwell copped a squat on the ottoman. The low coffee table in the center of things was completely covered with food. Looking at the hot wings, chips, pretzels, cheese balls, and more, Xavier could see the benefits of his boys coming over to watch the game with him.

  The game kicked off just aft
er one, and the men alternated between stuffing their faces and cheering for their teams. Everyone in the room, except for Max, repped Carolina. At every field goal, touchdown, or interception that favored Carolina, the room would echo with shouts of jubilation. And when the tide turned in Tampa Bay’s favor, Max found his cheers drowned out by the groaning complaints of the other men.

  Halftime saw the two teams tied at fourteen. As the action on the screen segued to former players in suits voicing their opinions about the day’s matchups, Xavier stifled a yawn. He’d eaten no less than a pound of hot wings, so he decided to back away from the food for a bit while his stomach settled. Taking a swig of root beer from his mug, he sank back into the padded cushions behind him. He couldn’t remember the last Thursday he’d been able to relax like this, and he relished it.

  Next to him, Tyrone opened his mouth and fractured his sense of peace. “What’s going on with you and Imani, man?”

  Xavier groaned. “Ty, I don’t want to talk about her. I just want to enjoy the game.”

  Orion quipped, “Whatever, man. Just level with us.”

  Xavier’s brow cocked. “Et tu, O?”

  “It’s the half. We’ve got some time to kill.” Orion shrugged.

  Maxwell, his expression flat, popped a cheese ball into his mouth. “You might as well tell us. Ty is gonna ride your ass until you do.”

  Xavier rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Ty. There’s nothing to tell.”

  Three sets of male eyes were trained on him; all looked unconvinced.

  “She lied to me, I can’t trust her, and it’s over between us.”

  Tyrone shook his head. “You’re really going to hold this against her?”

  Xavier groused, “Stop hassling me. I thought you’d be happy. Weren’t you the one who said she was endangering my campaign?”

  Tyrone guzzled from his glass of cranapple juice. “Yes, I did say that. But that was before I knew what you’d be like without her.”

  Puzzled, Xavier asked, “What are you talking about?”