“I don’t think so, but if he is, he needs to slow his roll. The ink on those papers would still be wet.” Brian shook his head. “Ryan’s competitive. Maybe he’s trying to one-up us. The next few months should be about our wedding.”
Karlie laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Brian, you’re one of the smartest men I know until you talk about your father—I mean, Ryan.”
“That man is not my father. He’s all yours to deal with.”
“I have no idea what to do with him.” She bit her bottom lip.
He took Karlie’s hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. “Pray for him. That’s all you can do.”
“I do. Every night. His name is right up there with yours.”
Brian ran his thumb against her palm. “How did I luck out with a girl like you?”
“Oh, please.” She removed her hand out of his to get a drink of water. “This from the guy who has over one hundred thousand teeny boppers fawning over him on social media.”
Brian shuddered. “I agreed to the YouTube show to help your singing career, not to become the sex symbol for children and cougars.”
Karlie giggled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “I can’t wait to get a sample of what they’ve been eyeing.”
Her words made his heart rate increase. If she only knew the sleepless nights…the dreams…the torture. He had never wanted someone as much as he wanted Karlie Knightly. Brian didn’t think he would ever tire of that feeling. He used to be a drive-by lover and didn’t do long-term relationships, though he left them all satisfied. He intended to meet Karlie’s every need and then some. She had been saving herself for marriage, and Brian would always treasure the gift she would give him on their wedding night.
Brian switched seats so he could be next to Karlie. He hugged her close, savoring the coconut fragrance in her hair. “I can’t wait until I can be with you. I want to wake up to you every day for the rest of my life.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think we’re too young?”
Brian saw the doubt in her eyes and scooted even closer to her. “We’re young, but this love between us isn’t.” He motioned his hands between them. “We’ve been friends since we were sixteen. We know each other more than people who have been married for twenty years.”
She held onto his arm, and then her eyes narrowed. “You can’t resist the jab at Ryan and Patricia, can you?” she asked, referring to his parents.
Brian shook his head. “I wasn’t even thinking about them. But they are a perfect example of how you can be sleeping with a stranger for decades. We don’t have secrets.” He cupped her head with his hands. “There isn’t anything about me that you don’t know. You know my darkest secrets, and yet you love me. And, I know you. I know your heart.” He ran his hand down her arms. “Soon, I’ll know your body.”
Desire surrounded them like a cocoon.
Karlie exhaled and moved out of his embrace. “Keep talking like that and we won’t make it. We’ll have a honeymoon before the wedding.”
Brian laughed. “We will have a wedding first. I assure you, I fully intend to keep both our promises to God.” He gestured to the server and then asked her to box their meals.
She looked over at the other tables before whispering, “I can’t keep my hands off you. You don’t want to know the thoughts I have at night.”
Brian dropped his voice. “I can’t wait for us to make those thoughts a reality. And we will in”—Brian pulled up an app on his watch—“Seven months, five days, and thirty-six hours.” He stood, needing to put distance between them. Brian pulled out several bills to take care of their meal and reached for Karlie’s hand.
“What will you be doing the rest of the night?” he asked, touching her nose.
“I have studying to do,” she said. “And I was working on a song.” She twirled one of her curls around her finger. “Unless you wanted to come up?”
“I can’t,” he said, avoiding the siren lure of her eyes under those long lashes. Eyes filled with a promise she knew nothing about. “Remember, I told you Professor Grayson wanted to see me.”
She lowered her head, twirling her left foot in circles. “Let me know what he wants,” she said before heading toward the elevator.
Brian watched her leave, aching to go after her. He felt her keen disappointment but knew today wasn’t a day they could risk being alone. He had to use wisdom if he was going to make it to his wedding night. The old Brian would have gone into the elevator for a serious make-out session, but he was a new man. He had another love, a greater love whom he couldn’t ignore.
He tugged on his blazer and hailed a taxi. “NYU School of Law, please,” he told the cabbie. “I’m going to Vanderbilt Hall between MacDougal and Sullivan.”
The cab driver gave him the once over. Brian clenched his jaw to keep from asking if the man knew there were black men in law school. Then the cabbie gestured for him to get in. Brian barely made it inside the vehicle before the cabbie tore off the curb. He heard tires screeching behind him, but the cabbie stuck up his middle finger and kept on driving.
Brian leaned back into the cracked faux leather seat, ignoring the sounds of the blaring horns and the smell of curry in the cab. His cabbie had a to-go container of curry chicken and rice and shoved scoopfuls into his mouth as he drove. Brian cracked his window and turned his head. He wished he had brought his Bible with him.
Ryan entered Brian’s thoughts. He didn’t know why he couldn’t keep the vitriol at bay whenever he was in Ryan’s presence. Brian tried, knowing it would please Karlie, but he failed every time. Ryan was a never-ending source of contention between them. The only one, really, besides Merle, who was twenty-five times worse than Ryan. At least Brian knew Ryan’s evils. Merle was a viper, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Merle was a she-wolf poorly disguised as a sheep because there was nothing meek about her.
Brian saw through Merle as well, but again, Karlie seemed blinded by blood. The only blood that meant something to Brian was the Blood of the Lamb. Brian decided to pull up his music app and put in his earphones. Tasha Cobbs was just what he needed. He closed his eyes. Before he knew it, the cab came to a stop.
Brian thanked the driver and paid his fare with a generous tip.
“Best of luck to you,” the cabbie said before merging into oncoming traffic.
Brian jogged into Vanderbilt Hall and headed to see Professor Grayson, the Faculty Director of the Center on the Administration of Criminal Law.
A check of his watch told him he was two minutes early for his seven p.m. appointment as his footsteps echoed down the hall. Brian tried to picture himself as a criminal attorney and grinned. That so wasn’t happening. His interest was in entertainment law, but he wasn’t going to ignore a special invite from the renowned professor. Since the receptionist was gone for the day, Brian knocked on the door to Professor Grayson’s office.
Hearing a voice telling him to enter, Brian opened the door. The faint smell of cigar hit his nose. His eyes scanned the law books and the decanter holding a brown liquid. Clearly, Professor Grayson followed his own rules. The pepper-haired gentleman stood and extended his hand. Everything about him screamed big money.
He was almost as tall as Brian at six-feet-five. Brian gave him a hearty handshake. He had grown up with the likes of Ryan Oakes and wasn’t intimidated by success.
“I’m glad you were able to see me on such short notice.” Professor Grayson gestured for Brian to take a seat.
Brian obliged. “I’m honored to meet you in person. Your case against serial killer Wayne Yonkers is famous.”
The professor gave a dismissive wave. “I thought I was a hotshot then.” He settled into his leather chair and pointed to the decanter. “Can I get you a drink? Water?”
Brian declined the offer. “So, why am I here?”
Grayson cleared his throat. “I have a unique opportunity for you, young man. I know you’re a first year student, but you came highly recommended.”
/> Great. This sounded like Ryan’s doing. If so, he wanted nothing of it. Brian squirmed in his blazer, clasping his hands to wait for Grayson to finish speaking so he could turn him down.
“Kyle Manchester is seeking an intern. He has an upcoming case, and you’re the one I’d like to recommend.”
Brian straightened at that name. Kyle Manchester was his father. His real father. His mother had told him the name of the man who sired him with much reluctance, but Brian needed to know. She also revealed Kyle Manchester had no idea Brian was his son.
“Whose idea was this?” Brian growled.
Grayson leaned forward. “Mine.”
Brian shook his head. “But why me?” Brian couldn’t believe this was all a coincidence. “Did my father—er—did Ryan Oakes put you up to this?”
The other man’s eyebrows furrowed. “No. Of course I know who he is, but I haven’t met him.”
Everyone knew the co-owner of Spababies, Incorporated. It was Ryan’s brainchild, along with the equally successful tycoon, Michael Ward.
Brian stood. “So, if this wasn’t Ryan’s doing, why me?”
Grayson studied him with sharp eyes. “Why not you? You have an impressive grade-point-average and you’re in the top one-fourth of your class.”
“I still don’t get why I’m being singled out.”
“I don’t get the hesitation. You should be honored.” Grayson’s face became stone cold. “Do you want the internship or not?”
Brian stepped back. He eyed Grayson’s numerous awards. The man had accolades from the president himself.
Grayson lifted an eyebrow. “Well? You have to meet him first anyway. Do you want to do that?” He tapped his fingers on the mahogany desk.
Brian took deep breaths. Did he want to meet his father? Yes. Like he needed to breathe. But Brian had intended to wait until he earned his law degree. When he met his father, he wanted to be well put together, but maybe God had other plans. He forced himself to speak.
“It’s not that I’m not interested. It’s that…” He wasn’t about to share his personal business with Professor Grayson. He looked the other man square in the eyes. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Please level with me. Tell me why I was chosen. I’m sure there are at least fifty more qualified candidates.”
Professor Grayson nodded. “Fifty-three to be exact. But none of them…” He slid his glance away for a second before meeting Brian’s gaze. “None of them has Dr. Patricia Oakes as a mother.”
Brian’s shoulders slumped and his hands fisted. “My mother put you up to this?” He wanted to make it on his own merit. When would his parents stop wheeling and dealing with his life? They had gotten him into the finest prep schools by making hefty donations and coming through with big favors. Even when he should have been expelled, their ‘generosity’ had ensured his reenrollment.
Professor Grayson came around the desk to stand before him. “Patricia doesn’t know I’m doing this.”
Patricia? They were on first-name basis. An earthquake swallowing him whole would be more welcomed than this awkward moment. He tugged on his shirt collar. His mother had confessed she was a sex addict, which shattered Brian’s already not-so-rosy existence. The thought of her and Professor Grayson… Brian shook his head.
He turned away from the professor. “I’m leaving. I don’t care to hear about my mother’s escapades.”
Professor Grayson grabbed his arm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Your mother saved my daughter’s life.”
Brian turned to see the mild confusion on the other man’s face and knew the professor spoke the truth. The tension left his body.
“My wife died when Carla was nine years old,” Grayson said, “and since then, it’s been Carla and me. Then Carla was diagnosed with a rare brain tumor. Your mother was the only one who dared to perform the surgery. She sat many nights with me during recovery. Carla is now sixteen years old and giving me hell.” The Professor chuckled. “But, I’m loving every minute of it.”
Brian lifted his head. To say he was relieved was an understatement. He cleared his throat. “I…”
Grayson patted his arm. “She spoke about you a lot. So, when I saw your name…”
Brian nodded. His heart warmed knowing his workaholic mother had spoken about him. He would have preferred she spent quality time with him, but Brian rebuked that thought. “Can you tell me about the case I’d be working on?”
Professor Grayson shook his head. “Mr. Manchester is busy with several cases. I’m not sure where you’ll be needed. But, you’d be foolish to turn down this opportunity. Go interview with him. Just because I recommended you, it doesn’t mean you’ll be chosen. You might not be a good fit.” The professor looked at his watch. “I’d better get going. Carla’s due home from band practice and she hates to be home alone. I’ll have my secretary call you with the details.”
The men shook hands.
“Thank you so much for thinking of me,” Brian said.
The professor patted him on the back. “I hope you’ll be chosen. This will be an amazing experience. You won’t regret it.”
Brian smiled. He was going to meet his father. He experienced dual feelings of excitement and unrest. He knew he would regret meeting Kyle Manchester. Brian didn’t know why, but he knew he would. But not even that feeling would keep him from meeting the man responsible for giving him life.
Ch. 4
“Yabba-dabba…” Merle Peterson practiced her tongues. “Yabba-dabba-do.” She groaned and leaned forward to peer into the bathroom mirror. “I sound like I’m impersonating Fred Flintstone.” If I’m going to speak in tongues, I must sound authentic.
She wiped her sweat, closed her eyes, and tried in vain to remember how Sister Inez Richards had sounded. Her tongues came out smooth like butter on bread. That’s how Merle had to be. Natural.
“Sh-a—nanah.” A picture of the comedian Martin Lawrence dressed as Sheneneh teased her brain. Merle giggled before she caught herself.
She stomped into her bedroom and dropped to her knees. “God, I’ve been serving You for some time now. Why won’t You give me utterance? I have to listen to Sister Inez spitting it out while I only have a measly hallelujah.” She gritted her teeth. “How are the people going to believe me when I haven’t yet spoken?”
Sister Inez always spoke in tongues before giving a revelation. She had the church in hushed awe every time she opened her mouth. Merle wanted that power. She was a grandmother. Speaking and prophesying were a given at this stage in her life. She would fake it until it was real.
Merle prayed. “Please, God, don’t let me say something that’s a bad word in another language.” She squared her shoulders, held up her hands, and chanted, “La-mek-keel-euhm.” That sounded good. Merle said it again. Then she added: “Ab-lach-tahk-chi.” That sounded even better. She crossed her fingers and put the two words together. “La-mek-keel-euhm Ab-lach-tahk-chi.” She smiled. Now she was getting somewhere. She closed her eyes. “Yes, Lord. I hear Your voice. I will answer Your call.”
Yes.
She practiced over and over, adding a couple of phrases. Merle kept at it until she had convinced herself she spoke in tongues. She couldn’t wait for the upcoming Sabbath to show off her spiritual skills. By the end of the day, Merle would be the new prayer warrior. People would be coming to her for healing and for advice. She could pull it off. She had been a nurse and studied herbalism, so she was comfortable dishing out suggestions. When the time was right, she would invite Karlie. Merle needed her granddaughter to see and believe.
If Karlie believed, she would remain compliant. She would give in to Merle’s requests, thinking she was obeying God’s command.
A flash of guilt made Merle uneasy. She needed to stop using God for her own benefit. But she had programmed herself that way and didn’t know how to stop. She had nearly died in a fire after Tiffany’s death and Merle had been devastated. She hadn’t wanted to live. She was tormented with nightmares about the fire
and how she had treated her only child, Tiffany Knightly.
Tiffany had told Merle about being raped by Merle’s husband, Clifford Peterson, and Merle refused to believe it. Instead, she had turned on her child. All day long her sins taunted and pricked at her soul. The only relief she found was when some missionaries from Faith in Action Temple visited and sang.
Their songs soothed her turbulence. She enjoyed the praise and worship. She welcomed their prayers. They prayed for her and introduced her to God’s love. Merle had grabbed onto Him. He was the father she never had. Merle loved hearing about His never-ending mercy and love. The idea that no matter how much she sinned, God would forgive her captivated Merle. It was addicting. She had found someone who would love her flaws and all, and for a while, He was enough.
Until Karlie.
Merle had reached out to her granddaughter because Karlie was her only living relative. Karlie’s love and acceptance lifted the dark cloud of her past. Karlie gave her a second chance.
And Karlie was generous.
No matter how much Merle asked for, Karlie delivered. Merle had found a new addiction.
And she intended to live off that high for the rest of her life.
Merle glanced at the embossed wedding invitation on her bed and rolled her eyes. Brian and Karlie’s nuptials made her stomach churn. She had liked Brian’s outspokenness until he started staring into her soul. Merle knew he had the gift of discernment because he had seen right through her act. Brian probably had no idea about his spiritual blessing, but she did. A fake could spot the real thing from miles away.
She shuddered when she remembered their last conversation, or rather, his warning. Karlie had brought Brian over for dinner to share their wedding news. He had played nice until Karlie left the room to use the restroom.
“I see you for what you are,” he had said.
She lifted her chin. “What do you mean?” Merle asked, putting on her best grandmother tone.
“If you’re saved, then I’m the King of England.”
A Reason to Sing Page 3