Farrah Rochon - Forever's Promise

Malinda waved him off. “Tabitha and Lenny have been separated for longer than they’ve been married. It’s about time they finally went through with the divorce. But Tabitha isn’t right for you. You’d do better with someone without so much baggage. Shayla is actually perfect. She’s single, the right age and successful in her own right.”

“I’m not looking to get involved with anyone,” Xavier said. “My assignment in Maplesville is for only three months. Between the hospital and volunteering at the clinic, I don’t have time to catch the Braves games on TV, let alone date. That’s not what I’m here for.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Malinda shook her head as she unlocked her car door. “It would drive me crazy moving from one hospital to another. You have to learn all new hospital politics, and you’re always at the bottom of the totem pole.” She stopped. “Oh, wait. You’re an E.R. doctor. You’re used to being at the bottom of the totem pole.”

Xavier grinned at her good-natured barb, even though it stung way more than Malinda probably intended. The fact that he hadn’t gone into one of the sexier specialties had triggered the beginning of the demise of his relationship with his ex-fiancée, Nicole. She’d found herself a cardiothoracic surgeon and quickly suckered him into putting a ring on her finger.

Xavier scrubbed his mind of the image of the wedding photo he’d seen in the society pages of the Atlanta newspaper, Nicole’s orthodontics-enhanced smile staring back at him. He wasn’t putting himself through that today.

“I hope your conflict with Shayla doesn’t jeopardize our goodies,” Malinda said through her open driver’s-side window. “I’d hate to hurt your feelings when I choose coffee over you.”

He chuckled. “I’d do the same if given the choice.”

He tapped the roof of her car as she drove off.

Xavier set his backpack behind the seat and climbed into his Jeep Wrangler. As he came upon the intersection of Cooper Lane and Main Street, he spotted the sign for The Jazzy Bean about two blocks down. It featured a cartoon coffee bean playing a saxophone.

Ignoring the exhaustion that had him on the verge of collapse, he pulled into an empty parking slot in front of Claudette’s Beauty Parlor, locked the door—though it was hardly necessary in this small town—and a minute later walked through the front door of The Jazzy Bean.

The place was huge—much bigger than the average chain coffeehouse. Yet, despite its size, it still had a cozy feel. The polished concrete floors were stained a warm brown with hints of orange. A dozen small round table-and-chair sets occupied most of the space. A long, narrow bar lined with several stools ran the length of the floor-to-ceiling windows that faced Main Street.

Xavier stepped in a bit farther and noticed a stone-laid fireplace surrounded by several large wooden rocking chairs toward the rear of the coffeehouse. There was also a burnt-orange leather couch with two huge armchairs and a square ottoman. Several of the tables held chessboards, and a few had decks of cards. Framed black-and-white photographs of brass instruments, swampland scenes and coffee beans adorned brick walls. Despite the deep earth tones, the place was well lit with recessed lights and track lighting throughout.

“Nice,” Xavier murmured. “Damn nice.” It was much more than he’d expected to find in a small town like Gauthier.

He looked around, hoping to spot the person he’d come here for, but Shayla was nowhere to be found.

He walked over to a corkboard affixed to the wall, careful not to bump the table that had all the fixings for coffee—creamer, sugar, artificial sweeteners, honey and stirrers. Tacked to the corkboard were signs for various happenings in and around Gauthier. The civic association was sponsoring an Easter-egg hunt in Heritage Park. The local high school’s 4-H Club was having a bake sale and car wash. There were Zumba classes right here at The Jazzy Bean on Tuesday and Thursday nights.

“Dr. Wright?”

Xavier turned. He pointed to the young lady who’d come into the E.R. over the weekend. “Erin, right?”

She nodded. “You remembered.”

“Sure. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. You were right. It was just a stomach virus. Combined with the lack of sleep, it just wore me out.”

“You mentioned the other day that you’re premed. Sorry to break it to you, but the lack of sleep will only get worse.”

She grimaced. “I’ve been told.”

“Don’t tell me you work here, too, in addition to going to school?”

“Only part-time,” she said. “But that’s about to change. I’m getting an apartment in New Orleans before the start of my next semester.”

“And I will be very sorry to see her go.”

Xavier turned to find Shayla sauntering up to them, her delicately flared hips swaying in a way that caused his skin to prickle with the same electricity that had jolted him last night in the E.R. Tied around her waist was an apron featuring the saxophone-playing coffee bean that was on the sign outside.

“Hello again,” Xavier greeted.

“Hello,” she said. Her tone lacked the sharpness that had colored it earlier today. That had to be a good sign, right?

She pointed at Erin. “You’ve got a paper due, which means you need to get out of here. Lucinda and I will close up.”

Erin’s relief was evident in her smile. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shayla turned back to him. “Sorry to kick you out, but we’re closing in five minutes.”

He pointed to the flyer tacked to the community board. “Says here that Zumba class starts at 6:30 p.m.”

“You’re here for Zumba?”

Her skeptical expression wrangled a laugh out of him. “Maybe,” Xavier answered.

“Hey, Shayla, would you tell this old woman to get me my apple fritter so I can leave?” They both turned at the sound of the gravelly voice calling from the counter.

“No fritters for you, Mr. Henry,” Shayla said. “Imogen told me your cholesterol was up last week.”

The older gentleman grunted and paid for the bran muffin.

“Sacrificing a sale for the well-being of your customer?” Xavier asked. “He could have just taken his business elsewhere.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Doctor, when it comes to coffee and baked goods, I’m the only game in town. And I’m not willing to contribute to the rising health problems here in Gauthier just to make a few bucks.”

“That’s pretty noble of you.”

“But not completely altruistic. The longer I can keep them alive, the longer I can have them as customers,” she said, sending him a sassy wink. “I am a businesswoman, after all.”

He laughed. “I need to adopt that motto. It works in my line of business, too.” He followed her over to the tables and chairs and watched as she began wiping down the tabletops.

She looked up at him. “You’re still here?”

He nodded. “And I will be until you accept my apology.”

“Going to be a long, lonely night in this coffee shop for you. And if I find any inventory missing in the morning, I’m charging you for it.”

“Why are you giving me such a hard time?”

“Because you accused me of jeopardizing my niece’s health as a ploy to meet you. You’d better be grateful I haven’t punched you in the gut. That was my first instinct.”

“I am begging you to accept my apology for that. It was out of line, and I truly am sorry.”

She spun around and planted the hand with the towel on her hip. “What could possibly make you jump to the conclusion that I was the one who’d given Kristi the dye?”

He held his hands out, pleading with her to understand. “Look, I’ve had an—” he tried to think of the right word “—an interesting introduction to this area. I seem to be very popular with the single ladies in Maplesville and Gauthier. I thought you were another one trying to sneak your way into my E.R.”