Chapter 12 Chanel
Chanel
“You headed to lunch?”
Chanel Reynolds smiled at her coworker, then stuck her phone and mini wallet into her pocket. The mid-April temperatures hovered
close to seventy, so she opted to take her jacket as well. “Yes. It’s been so busy in here today, I feel like I’ve done eight
hours already.” She’d seen patients back-to-back at the imaging center where she worked as an X-ray technician from the moment
she walked in the door that morning.
“Girl, I hear you, and it’s only Tuesday.” Freda leaned forward and whispered, “That is one fine brother.”
She didn’t bother to turn around, knowing exactly who Freda meant. Every single woman working there fawned over Vincent Bradley.
He was tall and fine with a body to match, and had rich brown skin and a smile that would make the strongest sister want to
sell her soul just to be on the receiving end of one. Vincent was also genuinely one of the nicest people she’d ever met.
He always went out of his way to speak to everyone and lend a helping hand.
“You might want to wipe the drool off your face,” Chanel said with a chuckle.
Rolling her eyes but smiling, Freda said, “Shut up and go eat your lunch.”
She threw up a wave and headed to the exit. As soon as she cleared the door, her cell rang. Chanel dug it out of her pocket,
and her smile faded. She toyed with letting it go to voicemail but knew her mother would keep calling every five minutes until
Chanel answered. The only good thing was that her mother didn’t have the office number. She’d quit her previous job a year
ago to escape the embarrassment and whispering behind her back because of her mother’s incessant calling or showing up yelling
about one thing or another.
Taking a deep breath, she connected. “Hey, Mom.”
“I . . . I need two hundred dollars.”
As usual. “I don’t have any extra money. I just paid my rent and car note, and I still have the utilities and groceries.” It was only
noon, but her mother’s slurred words clearly indicated that she’d been drinking. Again. “What about your job? Didn’t you just
get paid too?” Chanel braced herself for what she knew was coming. What always came when they had this conversation.
“I don’t work at that stupid place anymore. Those people never treated me right, so I quit.”
More like she’d called out several times or showed up late or drunk, as she’d done on the last few jobs. Chanel had no doubt
that her mother had been fired.
“And you’re just like them! I can’t believe you’re my daughter. After everything I’ve done for you . . . just ungrateful.”
She fought back tears. After hearing those words hurled at her for so many years, Chanel thought she’d be used to them by now.
But each time they cut deeper, ripping away the scabs of previous wounds and breaking her heart all over again.
And as far as her claims of “everything she’d done,” her mother had done only the bare minimum when it came to caring for Chanel and her younger sister, Jada.
Sometimes. More often than not, Chanel had stepped in to cook, clean, and look after Jada when her parents were fighting, drunk, or both.
Their father popped in and out of their lives like a revolving door, and neither of them had seen him in over a year, though her mother had mentioned him coming around a couple of months ago.
“Fine! I’ll just call Jada. She always had more sense than you anyway.”
“Mom, maybe you shouldn’t drink any more today. I’m worried about you and don’t want you to make yourself sicker. I could
get you into a place where you can get some—” Before she could finish, a loud beep sounded. Her mother had hung up. She and
Jada had been trying for the past couple of years to encourage their mother to go into a rehabilitation facility, but without
success. Every time the subject came up, their mother would shut it down immediately. She quickly sent a warning text to Jada.
Three years her junior, Jada had a soft spot where their parents were concerned, and both had no problems guilt-tripping her
into handing over whatever they wanted. Jada had, on more than one occasion, loaned money to their mother—money Jada had needed for her college tuition or books—that was never paid back. However, as of late,
Jada had begun standing firm in not giving up her hard-earned dollars, knowing they would just go toward funding her mother’s
habit.
“Hey, Chanel. You good?”
Chanel startled at the soft touch on her arm and hastily swiped at her tears. She pasted a smile on her face and turned around.
“Hey, Vincent. I’m okay.”
He studied her a lengthy moment, as if not believing her. “Are you on your way to lunch?”
“Yes,” she answered, grateful that he hadn’t pressed the issue. “I’m just going to the café across the street.”
“I’m headed that way too. Want some company?”
“Um, sure.”
He gestured her forward, unleashing the captivating smile that had every woman in the office swooning. Not that she was any
better. Just about all of them had tried coming on to him since Chanel had started working there, but from what Freda had
told her, he’d never given any of them the time of day. At one time, there was speculation that he might be in a relationship,
but no one could ever find out—not for lack of trying.
He placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the street, sending a flurry of sensations through her.
What in the world?
Once there, Vincent said, “Looks like everybody had the same idea today. There’s someone leaving at a table over there.” Grabbing
her hand, he quickly crossed the space and snagged it just before another group of people got there.
Before Chanel could sit, he was there pulling out her chair. “Thanks. You’re such a gentleman.”
“Blame it on my dad. He made sure my brothers and I knew every detail about respecting women. I don’t even want to think about what he’d do if he found out one of us did something disrespectful,” he added with a chuckle.
Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about her father or the last two guys she’d dated. Not one of them would know anything
about how to show respect, even if it had been presented to them step-by-step.
“Do you know what you want to eat?”
She studied the menu posted on a large board for a moment. “I think I’ll have the turkey BLT with fries and iced tea.”
“I was going to get a cheeseburger, but I think I’m going to have the same.” Vincent stood. “Be back in a minute.”
“Okay. I’ll save the table and order mine when you get back.”
He angled his head and frowned slightly. “I don’t think so.” Without waiting for her response, he strolled off.
Chanel sat back, outdone. Did he plan to pay for her lunch as well? As soon as he returned, she said, “I don’t expect you
to pay for my food.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” She waved a hand. “We’re not . . . This isn’t . . . a date or anything.”
A smile tilted the corner of his mouth, and he leaned forward, pinning her with his intense stare. “Actually, it is. A lunch date. We’ll save dinner for another time.” He tossed her a bold wink.
Her heart started pounding. Save dinner? Another time? “Excuse me?”
“Oh. My bad. I should’ve asked if you were seeing anyone first. Are you?”
“No.”
“Great. I’m not either.” He reached over, grasped her hand, and placed a soft kiss on the back. “So can we have dinner next
time?”
She nearly swooned under the table. The feel of his lips on her hand had her wondering how they’d feel on other parts of her
body. Get it together, Chanel Maree Reynolds!
“Order for Vincent,” one of the workers called out.
Vincent released her hand and left to retrieve their food.
Good, because she needed a minute to wrap her mind around the fact that this gorgeous man wanted to take her out.
Unlike some of her coworkers, she’d never considered approaching him for a date.
Chanel considered herself to be an independent woman, but asking a man out first had never been on her radar.
In that way, she guessed she was more traditional.
Her stomach rumbled the moment he set the tray on the table.
Laughing, he said, “Somebody’s hungry.”
Chanel smiled. “Something like that.” She recited a quick blessing and bit into the sandwich. “Mmm. This is so good.”
He bit into his and nodded. After he finished chewing, he said, “I see I’ll be adding this to my home sandwich menu. And you
never answered my question.”
Her brows knitted in confusion. “What?”
“Dinner. And as far as I know, there aren’t any rules against us dating.”
She hadn’t heard of any either, but she could already imagine the looks she’d get when her coworkers found out. Then again,
she didn’t really care. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
Vincent wiped his hands on a napkin, whipped out his phone, and opened the contacts. “Can you please input your address and
number?”
Cleaning her own hands first, she accepted the phone and did as he asked. It rang as she handed it back.
He glanced down at the screen. “Excuse me. This is my mom.” He connected. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
She could only hear his side of the conversation, but judging by his smile and laughter, it seemed to be the complete opposite
of the one she’d had with her mother. A pang of envy hit her. She’d given up hope that she’d ever have a close relationship
with her mother, and the sadness she’d felt earlier came back.
“Hey, you’re sad again. What’s going on?”
Chanel’s head came up sharply. So lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard him end his conversation.
She opened her mouth to give her standard “I’m fine” line, but the caring look in his eyes made the words tumble out before she could stop them.
“My mom and I aren’t close. She pretty much checked out when I was a teen, and I had to be responsible for taking care of myself and my little sister most often.
” She didn’t give too many details because she didn’t want to scare the man off before they got to know each other.
“I’m sorry, Chanel.”
“I can tell you and your mom are close.” She dunked a fry in ketchup and popped it into her mouth.