Back to Me (11 page)

Paige almost didn't recognize herself. Since she'd joined church, her make-up kit, if she could call it that, had consisted of lip gloss and night cream. She now had a full face, but the colors looked natural and her skin glowed. She still went to the salon for a relaxer every six weeks, but she hadn't worn her hair down in over a year. Her plain, chipped nails were now shaped and smoothed and had a wine color that complemented her skin tone.

“Well?” the girls persisted. “Do you like it?”

Paige looked into seven pairs of expectant eyes and for a moment was disappointed. That was when she realized one girl was missing, Seniyah. Paige had been so caught up in the impromptu event that she hadn't noticed the girl's absence. She'd talk with Seniyah later, but she wouldn't disappoint those who were present.

“I love it!” she screamed.

“Shh!” the girls chorused. “You're going to get us in trouble.”

“I love it,” Paige whispered, then opened her arms for a group hug. “Give me a diva hug, but don't mess up my hair,” she warned. “I look good.”

The hug ended almost as soon as it had begun. Time was running out. The janitor's keys could be heard from down the hall.

“Thank you so much,” Paige said. “You divas are the best. I can't promise I'll look like this every day, but I'll do my best . . . ,” she began.

“And let God do the rest,” the girls added, finishing the slogan Paige said at each session.

The girls gathered their belongings, and as they started for the door, Paige touched Jasmine's arm to get her attention.

“Yes, Miss Paige?” Jasmine asked.

The joy in the young woman's eyes almost made Paige lose courage. “I know you spearheaded this. Thank you. The gesture was nice, but you need to work on your presentation. This could have gone much smoother if you hadn't opened with insults.”

Jasmine looked contemplative. “Okay. Well, then, add communication skills to this project. If you teach us, we will listen. We're not all hopeless heathens. Some of us just don't know any other way. We're products of our environment, but if people like you, who know better, teach us better, many of us will listen. Not all of us want our tombstone to say born, raised, and died in the hood.” She gestured toward the girls, who were now milling about. “Why do you think we're here? We want better. Our generation approaches things differently than yours, but that doesn't mean you should count us out.”

Paige nodded. That was exactly what Sergio-Xavier had said. “Okay, I'll remember that.”

Jasmine gripped the door handle. “I'm serious. We may travel the hard road, but we do have goals. Take Seniyah, for example. She's at the top of the class and on her way to Stanford on a full-ride scholarship. She may go into labor while giving her valedictorian speech, and she may have to leave her baby with her mama while she's at college, but at least she'll be in school.”

Paige's head ceased nodding and started shaking violently. “Whoa! What did you just say? What baby?”

Jasmine let go of the door handle and stepped back to allow the other girls to file out. “Aw, Miss Paige, don't tell me you didn't know your favorite student is five months' pregnant?”

“Oh, God, no.” Paige's lips continued moving, but no sound came forth. She heard words of agony in her head but couldn't get them out.

“That's old news,” Jasmine continued, talking like it was normal for a smart high school girl to end up pregnant in her senior year. Maybe it was normal. Child-care centers were as common as cafeterias in most inner-city high schools. “She's due a month after graduation. That gives her about six weeks to bond with her baby before heading out to Stanford. Good thing the school is not that far away.”

“Oh, God.” Paige's moans grew louder and faster. “What am I going to do?”

Jasmine flipped the light switch, then exited the room, and Paige followed her out into the hallway. “Right now you're going to get out of here before the janitor comes. Then I hope you make a trip to the mall and pick up somethin' cute, like in those pictures we showed you.” Jasmine turned and started walking. “Oh, yeah. Tell Dr. Simone we said hello. He can thank us later,” Jasmine yelled over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway.

Paige's feet stayed glued to the linoleum until dust from the janitor's broom sprayed her boots. Thirty minutes later, she pulled into her two-car garage without knowing how she'd made it home. She didn't remember the highway or the stoplights, as thoughts of Seniyah's pregnancy and how she'd missed it had dominated her brain. They'd had numerous discussions about her going away to school. Seniyah was happy, or so Paige had thought, but not once had she mentioned that she was not only sexually active, but pregnant also. Didn't the girl know how hard, if not impossible, it was going to be for her to manage classes and raise a child? And what about money? Seniyah was dirt poor.

As Paige moped through the house, hanging up her coat and storing her briefcase, so many things made sense to her now. Seniyah's inattentiveness, lack of enthusiasm, and body language all screamed pregnant in hindsight. “That's why the coat was tight,” Paige grumbled and flopped facedown on her bed. Her Bluetooth chirped at her ear, denying her the chance to drown her sorrow on the comfortable bed. While still lying facedown and without bothering to check the caller ID, Paige pressed the button and answered the call.

“Paige McDaniels speaking,” she greeted in her manufactured business voice.

“Good evening, Paige. Is this a bad time?”

Paige turned on her back and then bolted upright. Sergio-Xavier's sonorous phone voice had that effect on her, and he was a good distraction from her current problem. “Hi. Please don't tell me you're canceling our appointment tomorrow.”

“I gave you my word I'd be there, and I always keep my word. Please remember that.”

“Good, because I put much effort into locating the perfect properties for you. By the way, you never told me what your plans are for the properties.”

“We can discuss that tomorrow. I called to see how your meeting with DWAP went. I'm sure they kept you on your toes.”

“You have no idea.” She sighed and looked up into the wall mirror opposite her bed. The devastating news about Seniyah had overshadowed the special evening the girls had planned for her. The bouncy curls and flawless make-up in the mirror reminded her that the evening was about her. “Jasmine said you can thank them later.”

“What exactly should I be thanking them for?”

The uncertainty in his voice made her giggle. “You'll see tomorrow,” she said, standing and posing in the mirror. “Just know that it was all their idea. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Well, in that case, I can't wait to see what those brilliant young ladies have come up with.” He paused for a long moment. “Paige, what's bothering you?”

She plopped back down on the bed, wondering how he knew her world had been turned upside down once again. “Why do you ask that?”

The breath he blew into the phone came across as static through the Bluetooth. “I know we don't consider ourselves friends, but we've spent a considerable amount of time together lately. I think I know you well enough to tell when something is weighing you down. I can hear the sadness in your voice, and I bet your shoulders are slumped.”

She looked into the mirror and then pounded the mattress with both fists. Her shoulders
were
slumped. She hated when he was right, and had to stop him from gloating. “Can you also tell when you're getting on my nerves?”

“Of course I can, but I don't care about your nerves. However, I am concerned about your emotional and spiritual well-being.”

“Your concern is appreciated, Minister Simone, but I already have a pastor to watch over my soul,” she snapped.

“True, but who watches over the rest of you?” He continued talking through her silence. “Everyone needs at least one human to safely vent to. Someone they can share their joy and sorrow with and not worry about judgment. I know
you
can't offer that unconditional acceptance, but I can.”

She rolled her eyes, as if he could see her. “Are you applying for the job?”

“After enduring your crusty feet yesterday, I thought I filled the position.”

His hearty laughter made her laugh and prevented the shame she'd expected to surface. “What can I say? Your girl's been too busy running a successful business to sit in a nail shop.”

“Sweetheart, I get it. You're low maintenance. Now tell me what's wrong, so I can pray for you and go to bed. I have an early case in the morning.”

“You're going to pray for me?” she asked, stalling.

“Will you stay focused and stop stalling? I'll pray for you just like I did yesterday.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she barked into the phone. She'd tell him anything to keep from thinking about how good his arm felt around her as he prayed. “Seniyah's pregnant,” she blurted, rubbing her forehead.

“I know.”

Her fingers ceased their movement at his nonchalant response. “What do you mean, you know? I just found out tonight.”

“When I met her on Saturday, that was the first thing I noticed. Her stomach was more rounded than normal, and she had what some would call a pregnancy nose, meaning her nose has a spread appearance.”

Her head shook in disbelief. “How did you notice all of that?”

“I've been around plenty of pregnant women in my family, and remember, I am a doctor.”

“I didn't know until Jasmine told me tonight. I mean, I noticed Seniyah was getting thicker, but I didn't see her as pregnant. I must be a blind idiot,” Paige said with resignation.

“I wouldn't call you an idiot, but you are blind to many realities.”

She sucked in her breath to mask the pain those words inflicted. “What does that mean? I'm sure you're just dying to explain.” He didn't disappoint.

“You have a tendency to see people only through your preconceived ideas and notions of how things should be, and you justify it with religion. I'm not sure why, but you have a strict set of salvation standards that you follow and think everyone else should. Those who don't heed to your line, you have little or no compassion for. The problem is, your measuring stick is flawed. This causes you to miss out on many opportunities and remarkable people. In the process of, as you say, ‘working out your salvation,' you're too busy doing what you consider good things, and so you're missing the things and the people God has for you to help.”

Her palms rubbed vigorously against the comforter, but she didn't cry. His words hurt and held some truth, but she couldn't stop working now. Recognition from God had to be close.

“Self-absorbed and judgmental,” she whispered, recalling the adjectives he'd used to describe her.

“Don't sound so hopeless, sweetheart. You have a good heart, and your intentions are good. For example, what you're doing for DWAP is great. You're teaching those young ladies skills that will help them throughout adulthood. However, the way you judge Jasmine for using slang and wearing colored hair is wrong.”

“You're right,” she admitted, thinking back on how Jasmine and the girls had taken care of her, giving the best they had. “But I still don't like you.”

“That's not going to stop me from praying for you.”

The prayer began before she could offer a comeback. For what seemed like forever, Paige listened to her antagonist pray for every area in her life. He even prayed against mechanical failures in her vehicle. No one had done that before, and yet it felt natural to her.

She echoed his amen at the close of the prayer.

“Good night and sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow.”

The earlier stress had dissipated, and peace captured her. “Good night, Minister Simone.”

“Oh, and Paige?” he said before disconnecting. “I don't like you, either.” Then the line went dead.

She fell back on the bed, pounding the mattress and kicking her feet in the air. “Ugh! I can't stand that man!” she screamed, while making the decision to make a quick run to the mall between clients tomorrow.

Paige checked the mirror in the sun visor one last time to make sure she had “stepped up her game,” as the girls put it. A phone call to a personal shopping assistant at Macy's allowed Paige to purchase five new outfits in colors from the swatches the divas had given her, two pairs of pumps—one sling-back—and a M•A•C color palette in less than an hour and thus make her scheduled appointments. The demonstration the make-up artist performed at the M•A•C counter almost mirrored the job the divas had done.
I still got it,
she thought, smiling at her reflection.

The clock on the console indicated she had five minutes before her most annoying client arrived. With finesse and anticipation, Paige excited the car and walked around to the trunk to retrieve her briefcase. As she leaned into the trunk, the slight breeze caused loose curls to fall into her face. With ease she tucked the hair behind her ear. Something she had to get used to again, along with feeling the air against her legs. She'd worn pants and long skirts for so long, even in silky Berkshire nylons her legs felt bare.

After placing the briefcase and security key on top of the trunk, Paige smoothed her red dress, which stopped just below the knee and had a sweetheart neckline. The colors swatches and magazine photos the girls had selected worked. The color and style highlighted her skin tone and body perfectly, and the dress was appropriate for both work and church.

Just as she rounded the car and stepped up onto the sidewalk, Sergio-Xavier pulled into the parking lot. She waited for him while updating her electronic key.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he walked past her and continued up the walkway.

She whirled around. “And just where do you think you're going without me?” With a fist planted on her waist and a wide grin on her face, she watched Sergio-Xavier retrace his steps, joy filling her.

At first he just gaped at her, and then he smiled. “Paige?”

“Of course it's me. Who else would it be?” For reasons she'd deal with later, the look of sheer delight on his face made her feel good and empowered. She took full advantage of the situation. “Were you expecting someone else? Are you cheating on me with another broker?” She stepped into his personal space and then wished she hadn't. The man smelled too good. “You better not be cheating. I have your signature on the dotted line, and I will sue you.”

“I don't doubt that you will,” he said, relieving her of the briefcase. “What's going on with you today?”

“Actually . . .” She turned around and struck several poses. “This is what you can thank the divas for. Last night they gave me a makeover,” she said, leaving out the motive behind it. Sergio-Xavier didn't need to know that the girls assumed the two of them were dating, and she didn't want to give him any ideas.

“Thank them? Sweetheart, I'm going to pay their college tuition.”

“You don't have to do all that!” Paige snapped as laughter poured from him. “I didn't look that bad.”

“No, you didn't, but this is better.” Before she could brace herself, he pulled her into an embrace. “You were beautiful before, but now you're fine and . . .” He didn't finish the sentence, but his hand stroked her hair and rested in the center of her back. “You're very attractive, and guess what?”

“What?” she panted. She'd been in the middle of inhaling his cologne when he asked the question.

He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You're still saved. God still loves you.”

“Why is he staring at my lips?” she wanted to ask, but instead she said, “Thank you. I needed that.” She stepped out of the embrace. “We'd better get started. We have four properties to see, and I have Bible study tonight.”

He seemed to force his grin, but Paige couldn't dwell on that. She was too busy rebuking the desire to kiss those full lips.

 

 

“So what are your thoughts?”

Paige had asked him that same question at the three other properties, and like the other times before, Sergio-Xavier doubted Paige could handle the thoughts floating through his mind. He barely could tolerate them.

For the past two hours he'd followed Paige around, half listening to her presentation on the pros and cons of each property. He'd heard the important points, like the price, the size, and the condition of the properties, but the rest was a boggled mess. She'd walked him through units and rooms, but visions of Paige's hips and shapely legs had blocked his concentration. The way she kept flinging her hair wasn't bad, either. Although he didn't care for her judgmental attitude, he'd considered her attractive before the makeover, but now she appealed to him on a deeper level, and he didn't like that.

“Well, what do you think?” Paige asked again.

“It's doable,” was his manufactured answer.

Paige looked perplexed. “What does that mean? You never did tell me what your plans are for these properties.”

“I plan to use the properties to house low- to moderate-income families. I want to offer hardworking families a decent place to live outside of the hood, with the amenities of a gated community. I'm targeting working-class families with children.”

“You really have a heart for people.”

Her smile, which showed her approval of his plan, pleased him. He didn't like that, either. “I try to give back and empower people as much as I can.”

“Great. So are you ready to go back to my office and empower me with a big commission check?”

He chuckled to relieve the tension in his body. “Let's do it, or would you like to catch an early dinner?”

“The office is fine,” she said, placing the property profile back into her briefcase. “I have too much on my mind to eat. To be honest, I haven't had much of an appetite since learning of Seniyah's pregnancy. I just can't figure out what to do about it.”

He took the briefcase. “Why do you have to do anything? Did she ask you for help?”

“Well, no, but I can't sit back and allow her to ruin her life. This baby cannot prevent her from receiving an education. She has too much potential, and I have invested too much time making phone calls and calling in favors to make sure she has everything she needs.”

“So this is about you?” he asked, risking an argument.

“No, this is my Christian duty. I'm empowering her, just like you're going to empower the families you plan to house.”

On second thought, an argument would be good to keep things in perspective and bring his hormones back under control. “You're comparing oranges to apples. The people I plan to help are seeking assistance. Not only has Seniyah not asked you for help, but she also didn't even inform you of her pregnancy. If you're providing everything she needs for school, what are you leaving for her to do? How is she invested in her future? I think you have Christian duty twisted with the need to feel good about yourself.” The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Not that he didn't believe them to be true, but his motive for saying them at that time and in that manner wasn't pure.

Paige didn't say anything in retaliation, and for once Sergio-Xavier wished she would grace him with one of her off-the-wall comments. Even an insult would be nice. Anything to erase the pain etched across her face. She snatched the briefcase from him and left him standing in the empty building.

He paced the room, berating his actions until he remembered they had driven over in Paige's car. By the time he ran outside, Paige's tires were screeching out of the parking lot. During the time it took to hail a cab back to his vehicle and drive to Paige's office, his conscience forced him into a truth he did not want to face but had to acknowledge.

“Thank you, God,” he uttered when he saw her car in the parking lot. He parked and walked into the building, past the receptionist, and straight into Paige's office and closed the door behind him.

She looked up, startled, but recovered quickly. “I was going to send this certified mail, but since you're here, take it.” She threw the document at him and continued working.

He didn't bother looking at the paper, knowing it was a cancellation of their agreement. “Paige, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Do you get some kind of sick enjoyment from saying hurtful things to me?”

Her scowl made him flinch, but he walked over and stood beside her chair, anyway. “Honestly, today was the first time I purposefully set out to hurt you with my words. For that, I am ashamed.”

“Why did you do it? Why did you ruin my day? I know we're not friends, but why couldn't you just listen and for once not judge me? Like that day at the beach. You were so caring last night, how could you be such a jerk today?”

He hunched next to her chair. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with her, but he couldn't require more of her than he was willing to give. “I wasn't prepared for what I saw today—”

“What are you talking about?” she interrupted. “You knew we would be looking at property today.”

He took her hand. “Please don't talk. Just listen. When I'm done, if you want to curse me out, then fine.”

“I already did that in car on the way over,” she admitted. “I'll repent after I hear what you have to say.”

He shook his head before continuing. “Today your appearance threw me off balance. I wasn't prepared to see you in this light. I liked the presentation more than I wanted to, and I didn't know how to handle that, so I tried to pick a fight with you.”

“So, you really didn't mean what you said about me?”

He exhaled, relieved his attraction to Paige had gone over her head. “I shouldn't have expressed it in that manner, and not at that time. I believe in your heart, you mean well.” He watched her expression change, but couldn't read her thoughts. “Please forgive me. I promise not to take my frustrations out on you again.”

She snatched her hand away. “I don't know what's going on here, but we need to get some things straight.”

“Okay,” he agreed contemplatively.

“First of all, we need to define our relationship. Officially, you're my client, but you're more involved in my life than my few friends and family. For some strange reason your intrusion seems normal. I admit, you've had a positive impact on my life, but it's hard to like you.”

“I feel the same way about you,” he concurred. “However, I think there's more to like than dislike about you.”

“So, are we friends now? Before you answer, being my friend doesn't give you the right to treat me like crap.”

“Sweetheart, it's never my intention to treat you with anything but respect,” he said, reclaiming her hand. “We can be friends as long as you keep an open mind about life and people in general.”

“I'll try,” she said and half smiled. “And for the record, I don't mind you expressing your opinion, but presentation is everything. I may not like what you say, but I'd be more apt to receive it.”

“That's fair.” He stood up and extended his hand. “Forgive me, friend?”

Although her eyes rolled, Sergio-Xavier knew he'd won her over the second her lips curled. “Whatever, Serg-X.”

He pulled her upright and embraced her. “Only my friends and family can call me that, so I guess it's official. We're friends.” He stepped away before yielding to the temptation to kiss her forehead. Instead he pointed to the paper on her desk. “So are you going to rip that up?”

A knock on the door distracted her from answering. “That must be our food,” he announced and went to open the door.

“What food?” Paige wanted to know, but he made her wait.

“You can set it over there,” he told the deliveryman, while pointing at Paige's desk. After handing the man some bills and dismissing him, Sergio-Xavier turned back to Paige. “I called in an order on my way over. I figured after we made up, we could have dinner together before you run off to Bible study.”

“You just knew I'd forgive your sorry butt, didn't you?”

He ducked the pen she threw at him. “Don't knock a man for trying to keep hope alive.”

She opened the box on her desk. “It's not about hope. You seem to know more about me than I find necessary. Like this.” She pointed at the deep-dish chicken and spinach pizza. “How did you know I love this pizza?”

Sergio-Xavier didn't know how to answer the question without sounding mystical or deeply spiritual. He couldn't admit he'd become so tuned in, he sensed her desires, so he sidestepped the question. “Who doesn't like Zachary's? It's the best in the Bay Area.”

“You're right about that,” she said, closing the box and pushing it aside. “Before we dig into that, let's write up the offers. It'll take only a few minutes.”

He agreed and allowed Paige to take control. He trusted her completely with the transactions, accepting her suggestions about the offering prices and other terms and conditions. After signing on the dotted lines, he handed her a check in the amount requested.

“I'll deposit this into my trust account,” she said, enclosing the check in a bank deposit pouch. “Now let's eat, so I can get out of here. I have to be on time for the Lord.” In an unexpected move, Paige walked around the desk and sat in the chair beside him.

“Wouldn't want you to keep the Lord waiting.” He chuckled and reached for a paper plate at the same time she did. Their hands briefly touched, but he ignored the warm sensation and grabbed a pizza slice.

“Since we're friends now, I can ask you a personal question.” Paige leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs at the knee. Something he preferred she wouldn't do.