Janiyah would need to keep an eye on both of them. Besides her and Gun, they were the only other people at the photo shoot. Cable and Brianna could’ve been in on this thing together. One had the tools, but the other had motive.
Janiyah was sure that the culprit was between the two of them. She just didn’t know who, or why.
Chapter Fourteen
Janiyah had a lot on her mind. Who had taken the pictures and was trying to destroy her? How was she was going to keep her sponsors and advertising money? Would they be asked to leave the church? It was almost too much for her to handle, but she wasn’t going to give up easily.
She was getting frustrated because Gun was keeping the investigation of who took the pictures under wraps. He and the deacons of the church made it so the investigators only spoke to them. Janiyah desperately needed an update, so she decided to snoop around Gun’s office. Unfortunately, the search yielded nothing; no pictures, no reports, no interviews, no evidence. It was like the incident had never happened. But she knew it had happened. The perpetrator had shown a slide show of various intimate poses and moments. A whole school saw what had happened, and it wasn’t long before everyone in the whole world knew Gun and Janiyah’s business, talking about how freaky she and her man were.
It was as if they had traded in one myth for another. Instead of the wholesome, handsome couple, they were now the undercover freaks. To say that people were reckless was an understatement. A predominant adult entertainment company offered them over $1 million to shoot new scenes so they could repackage a sex tape. A liberal arts college wanted them to do a seminar for married couples to encourage them to get their freak on like they were Missy Elliot. More photographers and magazines requested that she and Gun do photo shoots together.
This was just too much for Janiyah.
Janiyah arrived at her go-see early, so she went to the bathroom to freshen her makeup. She placed her purse on the counter. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brianna leaving the next stall.
Why this chick got to be everywhere I’m at? she thought as she lathered her hands with the creamy, non-fragrant soap.
Brianna stood at the sink next to Janiyah. “Look, girl . . . I know you’re catching a lot of flak for the pictures of you and Gun.”
“Pictures you assured me that you had nothing to do with,” Janiyah responded. She reached across Brianna and pulled a paper towel from the silver dispenser.
“Trust me, girl, if I wanted you, I would have been got at you.” Brianna snatched her purse off the counter and threw the strap over her arm. “I actually like and respect your husband. I would never do anything to bring harm his way.”
Even though her flesh felt raw, in her spirit Janiyah knew that Brianna was telling the truth. She knew that Brianna had a level of respect and an unhealthy attraction to her husband.
“Well, I do know you like my husband—” Janiyah started to respond
“Well, Janiyah, try not to be catty.” Brianna was blunt and to the point.
Janiyah leaned in closer. “I’m going to try this innocent-until-proven-guilty thing with you, just so I can keep my spirit at ease and so that I can believe that you actually didn’t have nothing to do with the drama I’m in now.”
Brianna closed the space. “If you think that I am your biggest competition, you’re wrong. You”—Brianna pointed at Janiyah, and her fingernail was inches away from her chest—“are your biggest competition. I don’t see you as my biggest competitor; I see myself as my biggest competitor, because what I realize is that if I don’t do a better job this time than I did the last time, there will be no next time.”
Janiyah hated to admit it, but what Brianna said made perfect sense. Janiyah felt every full-figured model and every female model, for that matter, was competition. Maybe she did need to change her mindset.
She never really thought about herself as her own competition. Dora, the chocolate-colored Dominican beauty, always gave her a run for her money in the hair department. She was always saying that no matter whether her hair was short or long, Dora always had the right amount of bounce to it to make her be noticed. Then there was Candace, whose perfect vanilla complexion almost allowed her to pass for white. Candace was the one who had more business than both she and Brianna put together.
The difference was that Janiyah got along with Dora and Candace. Dora had been a bridesmaid during her wedding about five years ago, and Janiyah was recently contacted by Candace to do a job with her. And more so recently, Janiyah was being called upon by other models who sometimes struggled with what they wanted to do with their community, and who some felt God was calling them to be. They’d heard about Janiyah’s newfound faith and were very inspired by it.
The modeling community, though slightly catty at times, was tighter knit than the threads in a pair of jeans. Models knew photographers, who knew graphic designers, who knew agents. Opportunities to model were endless, between the burgeoning crop of authors who seemed to come out of nowhere and needed cover models, to all the independent music artists who wanted fresh, unknown models for their music videos. Web series that were posted on YouTube, Hulu, and other platforms seemed to have made plenty of overnight celebrities.
If the culprit was someone within the modeling community, they’d suffer the consequences, too. The old saying of “loose lips sink ships” held truth, as advertisers wanted and depended on confidentiality agreements to protect their ideas. If someone couldn’t be trusted to keep unauthorized pictures a secret, who’d trust them with their ideas?
Janiyah gathered her composure and entered the room for her go-see. After it was over, she felt like they really liked her, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to hear from them soon.
As she walked to her car, she got a call. She thought for sure it was going to be the people she had just met, offering her a job. Instead, it was a casting director informing her that they had cancelled a shoot for a major telecommunications firm. Janiyah was shocked. It would set her back a few grand and any possible residual income opportunities. Her next scheduled shoot wasn’t for a few days later with an old friend in Greensboro, North Carolina, for a few books she was putting together. After that, she was still waiting to hear whether she’d be going to Atlanta for the launch of another plus-size line. So, there was really no good money coming in anytime soon.
She knew that Brianna was a strong candidate for the Atlanta job as well, but unlike Brianna, Janiyah had scandal behind her, and not the kind that Kerry Washington starred in. Janiyah figured this probably gave Brianna an advantage over her. And if she didn’t settle that, she wouldn’t just need to find out who snapped the pictures and shared them with the church; she’d need to find another job.
At the moment, Janiyah had no idea what that other job could be.
Chapter Fifteen
The sound of Gun opening the door and entering the bedroom caused Janiyah’s eyes to pop open. She smelled the subtle hint of the Axe body spray he’d applied earlier that day as it teased the hairs in her nostrils. Using her hands to push herself up, she rose and leaned her back against the headboard. Janiyah adjusted the sheet to cover her chest. She wore her favorite matching pink-and-black Fredrick’s of Hollywood lace camisole and panty set, but ever since their privacy had been invaded, even around Gun in their home, Janiyah felt underdressed.
Flashbacks to the service still clouded her mind. How ironic that her speech on being faithfully clothed as a woman of God turned into a public exposure of her unclothed curves and dimples. Everyone not only saw Janiyah and Gun in the buff, but they got a peek of their most intimate moment too.
“So, I guess I can’t be called a hopeless romantic no more, huh?” Gun said.
Janiyah sensed a nervousness in his voice. She reached to her right to turn on the lamp on the dresser. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she could see that Gun only had on a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs.
She smiled, not because she found his attempt at humor amusing, but because
she liked the way his underwear outlined his physical attributes. They seemed to highlight the muscle lines of Gun’s upper body while defining the athleticism presented below the belt.
“I know you’re my hopeless romantic.” Janiyah forced herself to sit up straight. True, the video showed a much rougher side of their sex life, but she knew there were many different styles to his lovemaking. Of course, she didn’t care or wasn’t eager to show any other sides of that to the world.
“A little spontaneity is always good,” Janiyah encouraged. “I just wish that everyone didn’t have a glimpse of what that looked like for us. I’m sure the women of the church think I’m a whore.”
“Naw, they don’t think that,” Gun assured her as he sank in the bed next to her.
Janiyah couldn’t decide whether she should be offended by the fact that he seemed unbothered. Their reputations and their careers were at stake. Of course she was bothered.
“We are respectable members of our church. A married couple who got caught up in the moment.” Gun made his case as he moved to the edge of the bed, lifted up Janiyah’s soft, pedicured feet, and gave her a massage. He’d pressed a button that seemed to have released the tension in the air. “I believe that if I were with another woman or if you were with another man, the situation would be viewed more harshly.”
Janiyah felt the heat coming off Gun’s body. He moved and prodded her feet, careful not to press too hard. He was warm to the touch. After working her feet over, Gun made his way up her legs and to her waist. Strangely enough, Janiyah found that when Gun wrapped his arm around her, she was able to calm down.
Release. Thank God, because that was what she needed. Release. She exhaled, letting her frustration go with her breath.
“But we are leaders in the church.” Janiyah stressed her point. “We can’t just have sex anywhere we feel like it. We should’ve been more respectful of the establishment and waited to make love at home.”
“Would we have made it?” Gun asked. “You are a model with a criminal background now; I used to be a thug that ran the streets. We are not, nor will we ever be, your typical ministers. Nothing about our life is supposed to be typical.”
Truthfully, that was what Janiyah thought. They weren’t supposed to be “typical.” Yet in all their time together, all they did was the typical stuff. Well, except when they were dating and Gun would whisk her away on a fabulous trip to an exotic location—but that didn’t count. He was trying to impress her then. Once they got saved, it became typical. They got dressed and went out on dates at dine-in restaurants; they drove up to forty-five minutes to catch some of the new Christian-themed films in the movie theaters in Greenville; they shopped in Charlotte, Raleigh, or Atlanta. Aside from their inability to produce a child at the moment, they were typical.
“Do you think the church will ask us to resign from our positions?” Janiyah was concerned. While she never looked at her ministry as a job, nor did she receive a salary for her role, she did value what she felt she brought to the church. In the back of her mind, Janiyah was concerned with how her outreach ministry would be affected. Would the relationship with the community organizations that worked with the church change?
Janiyah’s mind clouded with visions of how the church would change without her outreach to the youth. She didn’t want that to become a reality.
“At least now, if we eventually become counselors for couple’s therapy, we have proof that we have and enjoy an active sex life,” Gun replied.
Janiyah slapped him on his bare chest. The impact made him tense up a little. “That is not funny, Mr. Wade.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.” Gun reached over and grabbed her sleeping mask and covered her eyes.
Janiyah could feel him moving around in the bed. Next, she felt a hand reaching up to throw the covers off the bed. As she felt around, Janiyah tried to figure out when Gun had time to slip the Calvin Kleins off. When he touched her, she felt the coolness of his wedding band. She liked the fact that Gun hardly ever took off the silver band that was a symbol of their lifelong commitment.
“Let’s not worry about what the church thinks,” Gun answered.
He positioned himself on top of her. He kissed her forehead, and all of a sudden, thoughts and opinions became foggy in her mind. She was very concerned and wanted to voice her opinion, but at the moment, Gun was making her understand his. His touches were beginning to manipulate her mind, and soon, she felt like putty under him.
Gun went about molding and shaping her, and Janiyah had no choice but to oblige. She fell into her feelings and let her worries leave her mind.
Chapter Sixteen
On a normal Wednesday, the only thing Janiyah would have on her mind would be noon day prayer, after-school programming, and Bible study. Most Wednesdays were almost treated like Sundays in the Wade household. Jesus and the agenda of the church came first. Town Mountain Baptist Church would sponsor a breakfast for the veterans that were staying in housing funded by the local Veterans Affairs office. Some of the church leaders participated in community outreach and civic-based meetings that put the church in the forefront of community affairs.
On a normal Wednesday, Janiyah wouldn’t be posing in front of the camera. There were exceptions, and this Wednesday was one of them. The night before, Janiyah had gotten a call from an old friend confirming that she still wanted Janiyah to be the model for a three-book series featuring a plus-size heroine who was a highly sought after attorney. The author, Donya Mecklenburg, had worked with Janiyah at the local supermarket back when Janiyah was trying to establish herself. They were both struggling and had moved in together to help each other out. They shared a house with two other girls for about a year. Janiyah tried to change the day of the shoot, but Donya only had the photographer for one day and didn’t have the money to reschedule. Janiyah understood and had agreed to help her friend.
The photo shoot would be her first since the scandal and would be shot in Greensboro, North Carolina. Janiyah loved to travel to various locations to shoot, and Greensboro was a welcome break from the dangerous gossips and rumor mills of Raleigh.
Donya was a statuesque five foot nine, one hundred and fifty pound, athletically built sister who could give Serena Williams a run for her money in the shape department. Janiyah respected that Donya was on one end of the full-figured spectrum, and she proudly represented the other. She knew that Donya valued all her brands and the people around her who worked hard to make sure that she could live her dream as a full-time author.
When Janiyah arrived at Battleground Avenue, traffic was heavy heading east toward downtown, as well as heading west toward some of the shopping centers and residential areas. She found the photography studio near the railroad tracks that served as a boundary for an older shopping center.
Janiyah hadn’t parked her car and gotten out of the driver’s seat before she could hear Donya yell, “Hey, Willow!” from across the parking lot. Only her friend was allowed to do that and not make it seem ghetto.
“Hey, girl,” the young white lady with a deep, husky voice replied. Janiyah thought it was Winnie from the Wonder Years who greeted her back. Willow looked like she took her dressing inspiration from Marcia Brady from The Brady Bunch. Her long, brown hair, parted in the middle of her head, flowed like waterfalls past her shoulders. A big, synthetic dandelion sat on her right ear. Her one-piece green corduroy dress made her look like an oversized Girl Scout.
Janiyah sat in her car and watched as the two ladies greeted each other. As Donya hugged Willow, she spotted Janiyah. She released Willow from her embrace and waved at Janiyah.
Janiyah exited her car and Donya walked up. “It’s so good to see you, sister girl.” Donya hugged Janiyah.
“It’s good to see you too,” Janiyah replied.
“Where is that handsome husband of yours?” Donya asked.
“Hidden in the same place you stashed yours,” Janiyah answered. “Probably at the church, meeting with some of the elders who are
advising us on how to handle our scandal.”
“Girl, I’m sorry to hear that.”
They walked toward the studio as Willow followed behind them.
“I know what you mean by scandal. The way people look at me and my wife, you’d think we were on an episode of How to Get Away with Murder,” Willow chimed in.
“If only I could,” Janiyah joked.
Donya led them to a small room decorated with a psychedelic blend of blues, greens, and yellows. There was a definite Seventies theme happening. “Aurora worked with an interior decorator for a month to get this room ready for the shoot. It’s supposed to resemble an old ice cream shop.”
Janiyah looked around, and she could see the electric counters and the old jukebox, which not only worked but was playing Al Green’s “Tired of Being Alone.” The place had a youthful feel, complete with a giant disco ball in the center of the ceiling. The clothes that Willow continued to bring in the room seemed to make the whole decade come alive.
“You were always a Seventies freak,” Janiyah pointed out as she rummaged through the outfits, pleased to find that many of the offerings were in her size or were close to it.
“I don’t know what it is with me and this decade,” Donya confessed. She too was looking for outfits. “But to me, it seems to bring about an innocence.”
“No, let’s keep it one hundred,” Janiyah cut in. “You have always had a crush on what Michael Jackson looked like back then.”
“That too.” Donya chuckled.
After sharing their inside joke, Janiyah noticed two men walking in. They wore huge Afros, but that’s where their similarities ended. The lighter-skinned one had on a pencil-thin, peach striped polyester button-up shirt with matching peach-colored bell bottoms. The dark one had on a black leather jacket with a teal shirt underneath, with black jeans and some combat boots. He looked like he’d just left a meeting with the Black Panther Party.
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