Chapter 8
On Monday morning Paige skipped into her office building, feeling more refreshed than she had in days without the aid of caffeine. For the first time in weeks, she had enjoyed a restful night of sleep. No tossing and turning and no disturbing dreams. She attributed the peace to last night’s prayer time. During the two-hour session she had cried, repented, and thanked God repeatedly for sparing her life. As much as she loved shrimp, Paige doubted she would ever taste one again.
After deactivating the alarm and manually locking the door—something she’d been doing since being caught with her butt in the air—Paige trotted into her office and turned on her favorite worship music and sang along while she worked. Two hours later, when the receptionist and the agents arrived, Paige had her whole week planned out. She was in the middle of reviewing a counteroffer when the intercom sounded.
“You have a visitor,” the voice announced.
Paige glanced down at her appointment schedule. The 9:30 a.m. slot was empty. This could be a new client, she reasoned, since over 30 percent of her clients started as walk-ins. “I’ll be right out,” she answered.
Before walking into the reception area, Paige smoothed her hair bun and refreshed her clear lip gloss. Paige felt so good, she opted to leave her suit jacket draped across her chair. Believing modesty was best, Paige almost never displayed her hourglass figure.
She rounded the corner and extended her hand. “Good morning. I’m . . .” The remaining words stuck in her throat now that she knew her visitor’s identity.
Sergio-Xavier took her hand. “Good morning, Miss McDaniels. After further consideration, I’ve decided to give you another chance, since I caught you off guard the first time. I stopped by on my run to schedule an appointment with you.”
She finally released the breath she’d been holding to keep from passing out. The man didn’t believe in beating around the bush, but he did have a dedication to physical fitness. Only a fanatic would be out in fifty-degree weather in an Under Armour compression shirt and shorts. The bulges underneath the black fabric reminded her of what those arms felt like wrapped around her body, causing her to stare.
“Miss McDaniels?”
“Get behind me Satan.”
“Excuse me?”
His raised voice snapped Paige away from her lustful thoughts. She hadn’t meant to say the command out loud. Neither had she meant to hold on to his hand for so long.
“What I mean is, I’m free now,” she said, clarifying the matter after releasing his hand. “That is, if you’re available.”
His eyes were doing it again, examining her like she was a microscopic specimen.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose if you’re busy.”
“I’m sure. Follow me.” She turned and started for her office. After several steps she looked over her shoulder to see if he was following her. He was, and she prayed the rest of the way. Today was a good day, and Paige was determined not to let him ruin it. No matter what he said, she would maintain her professionalism.
“Dr. Simone, please have a seat,” she directed once they were in the confines of her office.
He hesitated, but only briefly, before taking a seat. “Thank you.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. Paige stalled by looking at her computer, then straightening papers on her desk, all the while mentally reciting scriptures.
“Dr. Simone, I must admit, I’m surprised to see you this morning. When we parted yesterday, I wasn’t sure if we had reached a truce or not,” she finally said.
“If we hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here,” he answered in the no-nonsense tone she was used to. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m looking for some investment properties, preferably four fourplexes. Fixer-uppers are fine, as long as they’re in good neighborhoods.”
“And just how much are you prepared to spend, and how soon?” she asked while typing in the information on her computer screen.
“Soon as possible, and no more than three hundred thousand each, repairs included.”
She continued typing. “Is it safe to assume you’ve already solidified financing?”
“This will be a cash transaction.”
Her fingers slowed, but only momentarily. She was used to working with financially secure clients, but she had a feeling Sergio-Xavier was on another level. As they worked through the client intake form, Paige learned that Sergio-Xavier was single and lived within five miles of her office, near UC Berkeley.
“I have everything I need to get started,” Paige said after printing a copy of the broker’s agreement for him to sign. “Can you answer one question for me?”
“Sure,” he said after reading the document and signing on the dotted line.
“Why do you have so many names? Two first names is kind of ghetto for someone of your caliber, don’t you think?”
He leaned back, and the smirk on his face suggested that this might be the shortest client relationship of her career.
“Miss McDaniels, I was just beginning to think you’re an intelligent woman, and then you open your mouth and say something stupid. Actually, I expected that, because you really can’t help it. It’s who you are.”
The truce was officially over. Paige stood and pounded her desk with her palm. “Are you calling me stupid?”
He remained seated, totally unmoved by her animated behavior. “What I’m saying is, stop judging people by your measuring stick, because your vision is blurred.”
Paige shook her head, in total confusion. “What?”
“Sit down and listen, and I’ll explain it to you.”
Paige huffed and puffed and rolled her eyes, but she sat down. She didn’t want to listen, but she had a feeling she needed to. Then she would throw him out and tear up the contract.
“First of all, I wasn’t born a doctor. I was born a regular human being, so my caliber, as you call, it is not important.”
His humility surprised her, but she didn’t show it.
“My paternal grandfather had five daughters and no sons. I was the first male in the family, and my mother wanted to name me after her Latino father, Sergio Xavier. My father wanted to name me after his childhood friend Winston, who died of sickle-cell anemia while in high school. The day I was born, my parents reached a compromise and honored them by giving me both of their names. Sergio-Xavier is my first name. Winston is my middle name. So you see? There is nothing ghetto about my name.”
“Oh,” Paige mouthed more than voiced. “So you’re Latino?”
“Actually, my mother is Latino and African American, and my father is French and African American, but that’s beside the point. Stop making assumptions about things you know nothing about.”
“I don’t do that,” she retorted, defending herself. “At least not on purpose.”
“Yes, you do,” he answered emphatically. “You judge people with ease based on your self-imposed high standards.”
His words cut so deep and quick that Paige didn’t have a chance to brace herself. A tear escaped before she could get into self-preservation mode. She blinked rapidly and looked away. “If I’m such a bad person, then why did you come here today?”
If he noticed the tear, he didn’t mention it. “Honestly, other than divine intervention, I don’t know why I’m here today. When I left you yesterday, I had no intentions of seeing you again, but as I jogged down the hill, I felt compelled to stop here.”
“Really?” Her voice was just above a whisper.
“Look, Paige,” he said, leaning forward, “for the record, you’re not a bad person. More than a little misguided, but not bad.”
If you only knew what I did, she thought as another tear fell.
“And despite what I said a moment ago, you are intelligent and beautiful, with a nice rear end.”
“What—”
“Hold on,” he said when she stood up again. “Before you start throwing holy water on me, I’m not flirting or being lustful. Just stating facts.”
Slowly, she returned to her seat.
“Gee whiz,” he said, shaking his head. “Why do women always think a man wants them just because he compliments them?”
“Sorry.”
He stood to his feet. “Look, let’s try this from the beginning. Hello, Miss McDaniels. My name is Sergio-Xavier Winston Simone, but you can call me Serg-X.”
Suppressing a grin, she stared at his extended hand a long time before accepting it. “Hello, Sergio-Xavier. You may call me Paige.”
“I’m glad there’s only one of you,” he said after the handshake.
“I guess this means we’re friends now?” she asked, with more anticipation than she thought necessary.
“No,” he answered through that perfect smile. “But at least now we can have a cordial business relationship.”
She observed him as he prepared to leave, and felt the need to say something to prolong the visit.
“Thank you for giving me another chance,” she said and handed him her business card. “For the most part, I’ll be contacting you, but just in case you ever need to reach me, all my numbers are on there.”
He held the card in the palm of his hand. “I look forward to doing business with you, Paige.”
This time, instead of watching his back, Paige walked beside him back to the reception area. With each step, she had a feeling her life was about to change. For better or worse, she didn’t know.