In Charge, page 10
“Back when I was in high school, I was a football player.” He went over to her desk and leaned against it. With fingers combing his scalp, he surrendered himself to distant memories. Events he’d locked away. Pain shot up his spine when he recalled them.
Her chair faced the opposite direction. To show she was listening, Joanne gave her side profile to Xavier. She squinted slightly. “Why aren’t you playing now?”
He smiled. “A lot happened between then and now,” he said crossing his arms across his chest. “It was honestly a roller coaster, but I’m getting sidetracked.” He blew a puff of air through his mouth. “Anyway, I was really good. Star quarterback and golden boy of the team. I worked hard, scored touchdowns every game, and attracted attention from all directions,” he said, visualizing himself clad in his football uniform. The signature bulky padded shoulders brought him great nostalgia. Their colors were red and white. “Agents, scouts, you name it.”
“I was so good that all sorts of colleges were lining up to accept me. Everyone was so proud to know that someone from Peachwood, a town so small it’s not on some maps, could garner so much recognition. In the end, I got a full football scholarship to a prestigious university, which I gladly accepted. Boy, were we excited. Not just my family but the entire town. I couldn’t wait to show off my skills across the country.” His arms unlinked and dropped slowly. “And show off I did.” No longer could Xavier see Joanne. She’d merged with his surroundings. He focused on nothing but somehow saw everything. They started blurring as flashbacks resurfaced relentlessly. “Instantly, I became the school’s top performer. MVP, captain, prodigy, they labeled me everything. I trained hard and did whatever I could to keep our team on top. At that point, talks about going pro were starting up.” A trance-like presence consumed him. This was all ancient history, but in its time, so monumental. So, riveting. He’d been in his prime and very optimistic. “Again, agents and scouts came to my games showing interest. Being so young and thinking I might have a shot at making a living off something so incredible had me over the moon.”
At last, he saw Joanne again. Only her and her engrossment in his story. “But then, one fateful day changed everything.” He recalled the sound of helmets colliding as darkness clouded his subconscious. “Finals game against our top rivals. Rain. I remember being soaked but loving the thrill. It was incredible, but I hadn’t known what was coming.” He trailed two fingers down his spinal cord, shifting so Joanne caught sight. “There’s a scar around here I got from surgery. You see…” he held his hands. “On that rainy day, a player twice my size tackled me so hard my spine fractured.”
Joanne’s breath caught. “What?”
“I know what you’re thinking. How can I stand and move around today?” Xavier picked up a glass dolphin on Joanne’s desk. He’d made himself comfortable sitting on it. Noticing his position, he got off. “It took a lot of work. I should have been paralyzed, but I pulled through with luck and determination.” He advanced to her chair and once again stooped in front of her. “Anyway, after that happened, I couldn’t play anymore. Everything. All deals, agents, screaming fans, they all disappeared in the blink of an eye,” he snapped his fingers. “People turned their backs on me. After my surgery, everyone at that school saw me as the saddest case in history. My coach and lecturers expressed their regrets, but only that. I had no worth to them without my talent. It’d been a dark, dark time for me, but in the midst of my depression, folks from Peachwood were calling me up. Tons left town just to see how I was doing, traveling so far just to check on me. I got so many gifts and get well soon cards. They encouraged me to keep going. To fight for my ability to walk even if it was futile.” He spotted glowing tears in Joanne’s gorgeous eyes. “Of course, I couldn’t stay over there in my condition, so I came home. When I did, I didn’t get sorry looks like I’d gotten from schoolmates but instead a hero’s welcome.”
Sniff, Joanne swiped a stray tear racing down her face.
He wished she wouldn’t cry, but if crying helped with processing, he’d allow her. It just hurt Xavier seeing Joanne sad. “They told me how proud they were of my achievements. Not only getting so far in football, but overcoming my injury. I got food on the house at so many restaurants I’d gained tons of weight. It was insane but also incredibly rewarding after being abandoned by big city folks. I don’t know. Looking back, I feel like I can’t thank them enough. My people. Peachwood Grovers.” His eyes stung, but Xavier refused to shed tears. If both of them started spluttering, they’d never get back to work. “It’s why I care so deeply about everyone here and look out for them. But that’s not even why I told you all of this,” Xavier poked Joanne’s knee. “What I’m getting at is that I went through a drastic change to get where I am now. I got hurt really badly and had to give up football. Something I loved more than life, but it had to happen. If it didn’t, I would have never come back home. And if I’d never come back home, I would’ve never met you.”
That last part seemed to strike her as she visibly startled. But Joanne made no sound.
He got a rush; his heart pounded like a hammer. “Anyway, that’s just a bit about me. I want you to know that change isn’t always bad. It can be good because it leads to greener pastures in certain cases. I know it’s hard for you, but that’s just what I think. But if you really don’t like what I did, then it’s completely fine. I won’t mind reverting Roasted Beans back to your preference.” Looking at her made him feel warm. Why wasn’t she speaking? Perhaps he’d chosen a bad time to drop his true feelings. He would have held back, but it simply flowed out of him. Thinking that a reality could have existed where their paths had not crossed was mind-boggling.
They butt heads and argued all the time, but every second was magic. He’d lie in bed smiling when envisioning her. Yes. Going pro would have doomed him to loneliness. No woman like Joanne existed. He wondered if she even noticed that he just subtly confessed his feelings for her. He feared she’d despise him for it if she did. Or maybe feel disrespected? They were boss and employee. He’d understand if Joanne could no longer work alongside him. She seemed like the type to reject work relationships. Especially those with power imbalances. He may have been older, but she had more authority.
After a while, he cut through the silence. “So, what do you think?” Xavier forced himself to ask.
She remained frozen, mute.
Xavier shifted nervously. “Is everything all right, Ms. Richards?”
Slightly, Joanne jerked her head. “Yes. I’m just… I’m just touched,” she said as she placed a palm on her chest. “Thank you for opening up to me. It must have taken a lot out of you.”
“It didn’t since I was opening up with the intention of helping you, but you’re welcome,” Xavier reversed to the closed door. “You’re touched, you say?” What did that mean? His brain scrambled for answers, grappling to understand.
Joanne’s eyes scanned her left side. Xavier read her clearly. She was avoiding him. Her twiddling fingers and partial sways were a giveaway.
“What is it?”
At that point, she chewed her bottom lip. “There’s actually a reason why I have so much trouble giving up control. At least, I think there is. Whenever I think back, it’s all I can come up with. I just don’t know if I should tell you.”
Xavier gave her time to deliberate. She bit her tongue and went on with rocking, resembling a shy child. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. Just because I was comfortable opening up doesn’t mean you have to be.” Whatever she stored deep inside must have made thinking difficult. He wouldn’t pry or force her, but if Joanne needed to speak, then he’d listen. “Unless you think it will help.”
She became still.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
And if I’d never come back home, I would’ve never met you. Did Xavier mean that? For so long, she’d built concrete walls around herself. Walls to ensure she stayed focused on business and nothing else. But without her knowledge, those walls had gone up for other reasons, too. Reasons she only now registered. Xavier Evans. Her handpicked manager. Joanne had feared seeing him as an option. She’d admitted to his good looks, but only that. While around him, her belly would flutter and warm, but Joanne had written this off as anger. Xavier wasn’t just an insufferable manager she regretted hiring, though. He had a heart and a story. A story he told her in the name of assisting.
The second he’d expressed gratitude for meeting her, the towering walls fell and shattered. Every sensation she’d denied in his company avalanched with vigor, burying her. Her palms started sweating, her heart galloped, and she grew slightly queasy. They may have fought often, but their chemistry was undeniable, and after her business, he took second place in her thoughts. Was it possible that she’d liked him this whole time?
Joanne picked a thread on her blazer. She shrunk with her wreathing memories running amuck inside. Because of Xavier’s bravery, she now understood his devotion to Peachwood. He deserved to know what made her tick. Otherwise, they would not move forward. It’s something I’ve never opened up about. Not even her friends had the details. They shared so much with one another, but Joanne had her pride. Too much of it that sometimes got in her way. Telling Xavier seemed essential, though. Currently, they needed communication.
“My dad was abusive.”
Xavier’s stance changed immediately. “What?” he stepped closer with a face showing remorse. “Did he hurt you? Joanne, I am so sorry. Just know that he’s a horrible person who deserves the worst for—”
“No, no, he never hit me. He—he hit my mother, but not me or my little sister. Xavier, calm down.” Joanne had never seen such pure fury. Xavier kept it cool most times. She couldn’t believe how easily he’d flipped. Huffing, puffing, growling, the man did it all, and she’d only said one sentence. It warmed her heart, watching him react on her behalf.
Xavier’s muscles tightened around his eyes and cheeks. He’d come forward until he loomed above her. His anger made him menacing, but it slowly subsided. He held his forehead, then rubbed a palm down his face. “Sorry,” he whispered. “You grew up in an abusive household?”
Joanne saw his longing. His desperation for context. “Yes,” admitting it broke her. Saying her dad was abusive wasn't as bad as calling her whole living situation the same. An abusive household felt like a sob story. A tragedy even. Something to cry over in movies. As much as Joanne despised pity, her upbringing fit ‘pitiful’ more than anything. “He liked having things ‘just so,’” she found herself back in her childhood apartment. Its dingy wallpaper left an ache in her stomach. “Every chair needed to be under the table and our rooms spotless. No dishes in the sink and no toys in the living room when he got home.” Scary memories were activated with these words. Her old man’s gruff tone said the lines with her, his cheeks shaking on each word. She saw his silhouette in the swollen wooden door as he left for work. “He didn’t like coming home to anything out of place. My sister and I tried our best to keep the house to his liking, but we were kids.” Tears sizzled Joanne’s puffy eyes.
“And kids make mistakes.” It never left her. That fateful instance where she’d screwed up. Between her and her sister, it was Joanne who maintained order. Except on that day. “Usually,” she looked at her hands, examining how her thumb scratched her palm. “If anything was amiss, he’d punish us by beating our mom. I think he spared us because she begged him, but it didn’t hurt less watching her in pain. Sometimes, he’d hurt her just because he was angry, but the worst of them came when us kids made a mess,” she hiccupped before grabbing her mouth.
Xavier’s tender hand rubbed her shoulder. “Take your time.”
She brushed some stray tears. “I worked really hard at cleaning just so he’d leave Mom alone, but one day after school, I came home with a headache. Mom had been at work, but that was the norm. My sister and I had dinner alone, but I couldn’t muster the strength to clean. She decided to do so for me while I took a nap. By then, my headache turned into a fever that glued me to bed. I remember falling into the deepest sleep of my life. I’d been about twelve at the time.” On impulse, Joanne bit her inner lip. Dark imagery she’d long since locked away brimmed like dead fish in the ocean. On every lash, she flinched like her body was assaulted. “Twelve and so, so sick,” sobs racked her body, forcing her forward.
Immediately, Xavier swooped in and held her, shushing her tenderly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Joanne enjoyed his kindness and care. Behind his shirt were rock-solid abs, but his gentle hands made up for their hardness. She drew back to continue, not believing how much she let herself break down. “I was so sick that I didn’t check on my sister’s work. My nap was interrupted by Dad’s angry yells, and before I knew it, we were both called to the kitchen. By then, it was nighttime. I remember seeing Mom standing in front of him, begging him to let us go to our rooms, but none of her words meant a thing to him.”
Xavier seemed engaged, captivated by her story. He didn’t look away while arriving at her desk. There, he got a tissue from the box she left open. He inevitably seized the whole thing and handed a single piece to her, safeguarding the rest. “Why was he mad? Did your sister leave the dishes dirty?”
“She washed everything but forgot to put them away. They’d been in the drainer. Something he hates seeing.” Anger boiled in the pits of her soul. Joanne hated recounting her worst experiences, but somehow gained comfort through sharing. Xavier’s listening ear put her at ease. For the first time in her life, she wanted to open up more. “Of course, like I said, he decided to punish us by hurting our mom, and that’s what he did. That time was just worse than the others. She’d wound up at the hospital but…” she halted, not wanting to revisit that.
Xavier gave her another tissue. “I’m so sorry,” his eyes leaked tears of their own.
Joanne appreciated his attention. “It’s okay,” she dabbed the corner of her eye. “He can’t hurt us anymore.” It dawned on her that the room had darkened. With a quick peep, Joanne saw the sky. No longer did radiant sunrays rain onto the earth. They’d lessened significantly, leading her to believe it was evening. She checked her phone for the time.
“Why? Because you grew up and left his house?” Xavier never changed his perturbed frown. A combination of anger, worry, and compassion filled his eyes. For him to be so troubled because of her agony, truly touched Joanne. She must have meant a lot to him.
“No. My father died just as I finished my online associate’s degree.” She crumpled her tissues in a fist, remembering the funeral. “His death was the only reason I could open Roasted Beans in the first place. With it came cash.” Her business’ success brought Joanne great pride. The gloomy clouds that came with her past were overridden by its surfacing. She straightened her back and faced Xavier. “And I’m glad I put good use to something linked to him. It meant that my suffering wasn’t for nothing.” The grim man’s creased face disintegrated from her subconscious. “In the end, he did at least one good thing for me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Xavier knew there had to be a reason that Joanne was so guarded, but he would have never guessed the true reason. “Suffering never serves a purpose in that sense.” He wanted her to know this. “You’re not deserving of rewards just because you’ve suffered.”
Joanne seemed lost. “What?”
“You shouldn’t have had to endure so much to get your shop. You deserve it because you’re amazing and hardworking and should have nice things just for being you.” Xavier wished she’d understand him, but it didn’t seem she did. Joanne wasn’t ready. “Anyway,” he pulled her into another hug. Joanne rested her head on his stomach a second time. He heard her breathe out on him. “Your dad was wrong, okay? And nothing he did was your fault. He was a despicable human being,” he combed her hair with his fingers.
“I know,” she sighed.
They remained connected a while longer until Joanne pried herself off. “We should head out. It’s almost time to close. We’ve stayed in here for way too long,” her busy-body attitude came back full force. She stood, wiped her face, then strutted to the door.
Xavier didn’t want her to leave so abruptly. “Hey, wait,” he took her hand.
Joanne at first started to tug away, but paused. “We’ve been here too long. People have probably started assuming things.” She leaned her back to the door.
Xavier closed in on her. Their faces were almost touching. “What do you think they’re assuming?” he asked smoothly.
She rolled her eyes. “Why do you want me to wait? Is there something else you’d like to say?” Her snippy attitude seemed out of place with her red eyes and sniffling nose.
“Yes, actually. I want to know if you think you’re okay enough to stay here. Shouldn’t you leave? Recounting all of that must have drained you.” He moved his hand to her wrist, holding a bracelet she wore beneath her cuff.
Joanne took a deep breath. “It was, but there’s not much time left in the day.” She half-smiled. “Thank you for providing a safe space for me to talk to someone.” She swayed left and right again. “I think it helped.”
Before he could respond, she initiated a hug, which lasted two seconds. After letting go, Xavier snatched her wrist again. “One more thing before you go.” To say his heart grew ten times would be an understatement.
Those inquisitive eyes got him grinning. He wasn’t sure how appropriate it was to ask, but if he didn’t, he never would. “Would you mind maybe talking more about our feelings somewhere nice? You know? Not in a work setting?”
Joanne’s eyes widened, and she squeaked out, “Our feelings? Like where?”
“Anywhere you want. At my place, at yours, over dinner, you name it.”
Her hesitation made him nervous. A very foreign emotion for Xavier.
“So, you got me in my feelings just to ask me out?”
