“What decision? I haven’t said anything.”
“Exactly. You gave me your ass to kiss when you walked out, refusing to take any of my calls for weeks. Going out of town and not bothering to tell me when you’d be back. Now you’re calling at midnight on a Saturday night. What, you couldn’t find another woman to occupy your time tonight?”
I simply looked at the screen in my car. Was she serious? “Thereisno other woman. What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Tension and anger filled her voice. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. Goodbye.”
Not goodnight. Goodbye. It had that permanent ring to it that just didn’t sit well with me.
I don’t know why I’d called Chanel. I obviously hadn’t gotten whatever answers I was looking for. Licking my wounds from being hung up on, I finally climbed out of my car and dragged myself to my front door. As I crossed over the threshold into my home, I told myself the next time that Chanel and I talked would be in person, where she couldn’t hang up on me, and I wouldn’t be letting her storm off as easily as I had that afternoon.
Chapter Five
Chanel
“Nice moves tonight. I was afraid you’d forgotten how to dance,” Gabby laughed, smacking me on the leg with her towel.
We had just completed our Caribbean-inspired dance class. It’d been a few weeks since I’d attended the class we frequented twice a week. Between just not wanting to be out in public in general, overworking and getting very little sleep, I just didn’t have it in me to attend these classes.
“My therapist said getting back into an exercise routine may help me get better sleep at night. Plus, I just missed this place and laughing with you, of course.” I leaned in and nudged Gabby’s shoulder with mine as we sat on the bench, catching our breath.
“I’m glad she talked you into coming back.”
“Me too. I even started using the gym in my building more. Just walking on the treadmill with some light weights, but that’s all I need.”
“The gym?” Gabby raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I get in about thirty minutes before getting ready for work. That’s when it’s the least crowded.”
She nodded at my explanation. We both had a certain dislike for most traditional gyms. Between the gym regulars who looked down on people who were new or were out-of-shape by their standards, the men who used the gym as their dating service, or the constant barrage of personal trainers looking for their next client, neither of us were fans. Thankfully, there were plenty of other opportunities for us to find a good workout.
“How’s that going, by the way?”
“What? The gym?’
“No, the therapist.”
“Oh, um…” I paused, trying to figure out how to answer that question. “Dr. Winston is great. I felt a good vibe from her the first time we met. But still…”
“Still it’s hard trudging up all that ugly shit of your past, right?”
“Right.”
I’d been seeing Dr. Winston for about three weeks, and I was more comfortable with her now than our first meeting, but I knew therapy was a long road. I was dealing with things that had been years in the making, so I couldn’t expect to move past them overnight. Thankfully, Dr. Winston’s suggestions had helped with my sleeping. Working out and the little bit of opening up I had revealed to her lightened my nightmares so far and helped me to get some sleep at night.
However, I still sorely missed being wrapped up in strong arms at night. The number of times I’d picked up the phone to reach out to Xavier in the middle of the night only to fear rejection were countless. That reminder also peeved me again at the memory of his call that Saturday night. When I saw his name pop up on my phone screen, I’d answered quicker than I remembered ever answering a telephone call. I was that damn pathetic and that, of course, is what sparked my anger, which ended with me accusing Xavier of scouting for a woman on a lonely Saturday night, and then hanging up on him.
“Xavier called me the other night,” I admitted to Gabby.
“When?”
“Saturday. Around midnight.”
“Why does that sound suspiciously like a booty call?”
“It kinda does, doesn’t it? Well, he got no booty. Not from me, at least.” I frowned, secretly hoped he hadn’t gotten it from anywhere else either.
“Yeah, a booty call doesn’t sound like Xavier’s style. So what’d he want?”
