Jay ran a hand down his face and his eyes raised to the ceiling. “I know, man. You should’ve seen her face in his office. She seemed like she genuinely hated him. Or at least, really disliked him.”
“Nah, she doesn’t hate him,” I started before I thought better of speaking for her. I paused, contemplating whether or not I should tell Jason my perception of Chanel and their father’s relationship. I decided to keep my mouth shut on the subject, but Jay had other ideas.
“You think you know her that well?” I heard the challenge in his voice.
“I do,” I answered with confidence.
“What makes you think that?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, growing irritated at his line of questioning. I knew Chanel. Maybe not everything, obviously. But we’d spent too much time getting under one another’s skin for menotto know her. But I didn’t feel like sharing that with Jason. I wanted to keep the intimacy I felt with Chanel just between us.
“The real question is, why don’tyouknow her that well?”
Jay’s expression morphed into shock. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” He stood up from the bench at the same time I did.
“It means exactly what I said. She’s your sister. Why the fuck didn’t you know what the hell was going on in her life? Why the hell did you find out about the shit that went down with her fiancé at the same time I did? Five yearsafterthe fact?” Those were questions I’d been wondering for weeks now. Another reason I’d kept my distance from Jay, aside from my traveling. He was her older brother, supposed to protect her, no matter what. And he failed. So, I was pissed at him too.
“Man, I tried to look out for her. You should know that better than anyone else. What the hell did you think I was doing those times I asked you to stop in and check in on her while you were in D.C?”
My head shot back in surprise. I thought back to the times Jay would ask me to pop in on Chanel while I was out in D.C. handling business. She was still in law school at the time and living with Ethan.
“I never liked that dude. Something about him always seemed off to me. Well, not even him but the way Chanel seemed to close up in herself when he was around.” Jay shook his head as if remembering the signs of what was going on in their relationship right in front of him and being completely oblivious to it at the time. “You never picked up on anything when you saw her out there?”
I closed my eyes, thinking about one of the times I visited Chanel’s D.C. apartment.
Six years earlier…
“Xavier, what’re you doing here?” Chanel asked through the intercom of her apartment building.
“I was in town and remembered you didn’t live far from one of the spots I’m opening. Let me up. I bought some pumpkin scones from the deli down the block.”
“Oh! I love that place. Hang on.”
A second later I heard the buzzer sound signaling I’d been granted access to the building. I opted to take the stairs to her third-floor apartment instead of the elevator.
“Hey.” She answered the door with a warm smile on her face.
I let my eyes glide down the length of her body. Her hair was pulled back in a poofy ponytail at the back of her head. She wore a simple, gray sleeveless tank top and black stretch pants. I grinned at the pink polish on her toenails. I briefly wondered why I even noted the color of her toenails, but pushed that thought aside.
“Hey. Can I come in?” I asked when I realized I was still on the outside of her door as we stared at one another.
“Oh.” She blinked. “Sure, come in. Is it cold out?”
“Nah, not too bad.” I pulled off the leather jacket I’d been wearing and placed it on the back of one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. “What’re you up to?”
“I’m just studying. Finals start next week.”
“Then only one more semester of law school left. You ready to work as a lawyer?”
She gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’m scared as hell, to be honest. You want something to drink?” She asked over her shoulder as she pulled out two plates from an overhead cupboard.
I had to tear my eyes away from her round ass in those leggings. “Here, let me help.” I stepped behind her, placing my hand on the small of her back and easily reaching up, grabbing two saucers.
“Thank you.” Her voice was breathless. “I don’t know why Ethan insists on putting the dishes on the second shelf where I can barely reach them.”
The mention of her live-in boyfriend reminded me that she was taken. For some reason, my stomach twisted at the reminder that she shared this place with another man. I stepped back, placing my hands on the counter, instead of on her. “You didn’t need a plate for me. I just wanted to drop these off.” That was a partial lie. Jason had asked me to check on Chanel and make sure she was straight. I did that from time to time when I was in D.C.
“No, please stay for a little while.”
