Not Guilty of Love

by Pat Simmons

  "After services, he kept asking around to see if anyone knew me. When he saw a mutual friend from my church who did know me, Emmanuel pleaded with him to intercede on his behalf. When asked if Emmanuel could have my number, I said, 'Sure, why not?' We've talked every day this week. He knows what I look like. I know what he sounds like, but I need a favor," Paula said, bubbling with excitement.

  "You need me to be a bridesmaid at your wedding?" Hallison answered dryly as Alexis's manicurist lifted her brow in question. Hallison mustered a smile as she tried to keep her fingers steady. She was glad she had on her earpiece.

  "No, silly," Paula scolded jokingly. "I don't even know if he's the one, but if he looks as handsome as he sounds, then Hallelujah!"

  Hallison smiled again to keep from crying. She ached for a God-fearing clone of Malcolm. She missed the companionship. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head of curls to appreciate the fragrance of a recent hair appointment and regain emotional normalcy.

  She may not have a man, but she had Jesus. Hallison tried to convince herself that was enough for the moment. That sounded good, but why did she still want to cry? Hallison forced herself to refocus. She was looking forward to the communion and foot washing service she would attend later with her mother. Her mind continued to drift as she thought about Cheney being happily married. Ursula had a husband, although every few days she threatened to divorce him, and now Paula. She may have to change her circle of friends.

  "Hali, did you hear me?"

  "Huh?" She blinked and smiled. "I'm sorry, Paula, what did you say?"

  "Emmanuel wants to meet face to face, and I'm a little nervous. Do you mind chaperoning for our first meeting?"

  Hallison frowned. Her earpiece slipped. "You're kidding, right?"

  "I'm not. This may be my season for happiness. Remember what I told you right before I started working for the bank? I gave up what I once called a good man for Christ, but only on the outside. Now God's blessing me. Emmanuel is six-three and two-fifty. He's enough man to handle my full figure. I'm educated, independent, and the manager of the bank's credit department, yet I'm scared of meeting a man."

  The manicurist seemed annoyed at Hallison's lack of cooperation. "Miss Dinkins, I want to keep my job. Miss Alexis demands perfection in this salon," she said through her protective nose mask.

  "Listen, Paula, I've got to go. Whatever you need me to do, consider it done."

  "Great! Monday at lunch," Paula rushed and disconnected.

  Afterward, Hallison was thankful the manicurist concentrated on her handiwork and didn't try to engage her in idle talk. Her mind was occupied with what God had done in the midst of Paula's praise and worship. She would always wonder if she had missed her window of opportunity. Could she blame Malcolm and his lady friend for making her walk in the rain?

  Later that evening, Hallison exchanged kisses with her mother as Addison got into Hallison's car. Soon they were en route to the monthly communion service.

  "Baby, you're quiet. Your spirit seems heavy."

  The emotion was thick in her throat. "Momma, despite the big talk of being an independent woman, I want to be loved. I want to be dependent on a man and for him to be there for me."

  Addison reached over and rubbed her daughter's arm with loving strokes. "What brought on this melancholy?"

  Hallison didn't take her misty eyes off the road. "My friend, Paula, from work is meeting her secret admirer from a series of church fellowships that I missed. She wasn't looking, but it appears God placed Emmanuel there for her. I just hope I didn't make a mistake when I gave up Malcolm."

  "Nonsense. Malcolm made his choice by rejecting God, and you made the right choice by following Him. God has a plan. We'll have to wait and see the details. As beautiful as you are, no God-fearing man can resist you."

  When they arrived at church, Hallison's spirit lifted once she parked and walked inside. They selected a pew. Both knelt and prayed. Addison finished first and sat as Hallison continued to petition God, "Lord, I'm out of words. I don't know what to pray so I ask you to take over..." Before she got off her knees, God spoke from Mark 11:24: Whatsoever things ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.

  As the praise team stirred the spirit, few remained in their seats. Even Addison was able to keep the beat with a rendition of Israel & New Breed's "Breakthrough." Making good on Hallison's earlier prayer request, God spoke to her in other tongues. As the tears streamed down Hallison's cheeks, the prayers reached God's ears.

  Pastor Joshua Bellamy stepped to the pulpit, wiping his forehead with a white handkerchief. "Let's continue in the spirit of holiness tonight. Let God's praise be continuously on our lips. God didn't tell us to celebrate Christmas, Easter, Memorial Day, and on and on. He commanded us to take His body and eat. Tonight is not a ceremony, it's a celebration..." He preached from 1 Corinthians 11:25. This is my body, which is broken for you; this do in remembrance of me. "God is ordering us to remember Him in every part of our life. When you walk out these doors, remember the communion, communication, championship you have with Jesus..."

  Minutes after they had eaten His body and drank Jesus' blood, praises exploded throughout the sanctuary and continued as men removed their socks and shoes for foot washing. The sisters gathered in an adjoining room to remove their pantyhose for foot washing among themselves. Afterward, they returned to the sanctuary. When the services concluded, Hallison was still rejoicing, drunk in the Spirit, so Addison drove home.

  Sunday morning, while others were dressing for church, Lisa and Malcolm were gliding their bikes along the Katy Bike Trail—an old route through the Missouri, Kansas, and Texas rail line. Although they didn't attempt the entire 225 miles through the state, the exercise was invigorating.

  "My family and I are getting together to review some documents from the early 1900s about another side of our family. We're going to dig through a treasure box of draft cards, marriage certificates, and even an old phone book that my father bought on eBay. We're hoping the phone numbers, occupations, and addresses could be those of deceased relatives," Malcolm rambled as his heart pounded with excitement. He was almost salivating.

  Lisa shook her head. "The only dead people I'm interested in are the ones whose funerals I'm paid to provide plants and flowers for. Unfortunately, Gertie's Garden is supplying flowers for an event tomorrow afternoon. I need to make sure everything is in place."

  Malcolm parked his bike, then steadied Lisa while she climbed off hers. "I hate to see you go." He grunted and twisted his lips.

  Stepping closer to him, she encouraged and he accepted a kiss that wasn't meant for public display. "Let me make it up to you."

  He focused on her lips. "I'm listening."

  "A getaway—a day trip to Chicago. We can dine on the Navy Pier, ride the Ferris wheel, and fly back that night or stay there until the weekend," she cooed huskily.

  Malcolm responded with a wicked grin.

  "I'm ready, Malcolm, whenever you're ready to make love."

  Lisa's admission echoed through Malcolm's head the following week. He didn't want to waste his energy talking to Parke when his brother called about the family gathering. Malcolm had other priorities—personal ones.

  Arriving home one evening after work, Parke was camped outside Malcolm's house, manning his porch. Parke unfolded his arms and stood once Malcolm parked and was walking toward him. Before Malcolm's foot hit the step, Parke lit into him.

  "Remember me? Let me introduce myself. I'm Parke Jamieson VI, the firstborn of Parke V and Charlotte Jamieson, the eldest brother of Malcolm and Cameron Jamieson, grandson of..."

  "I know who you are, Parkay." Malcolm threw the nickname Cheney called him when Parke irritated her. Malcolm brushed past Parke to his front door.

  "Great. With the formalities out of the way, you want to tell me why you haven't called me back? Are you even planning to come to our family night? Cheney could've had our baby, Mom or Dad may have been sick—"
<
br />   "Did she?" When Parke shook his head, Malcolm unlocked the door and threw his keys on a counter that separated the kitchen from the family room. "Lisa and I—"

  "Since when could we not bring a guest to a family night?"

  Malcolm gritted his teeth, annoyed. "I'll think about it."

  Parke slammed his fist on the counter. "Which part are you thinking about? Coming with or without Lisa?"

  Undressing, Malcolm strolled into his bedroom. Parke followed. "Lisa has made plans. I'm skipping one little meeting." He held up a finger. "It's a simple family get-together that Cameron hasn't attended in months."

  "Cameron's in school in Boston," Parke bit out in a snarl. "No wonder you're not thinking, because your brain is fried."

  Malcolm shrugged. Lisa mentioned she really wasn't interested in genealogy and Malcolm wasn't going to force her. In any relationship there was give and take. Every woman didn't share her man's every passion. He could deal with it, and his family had to respect that.

  Parke was rendered speechless. He grabbed a nearby pen and pad and started scribbling.

  Malcolm stood still. "What are you doing?"

  "Writing down our parents' address in case you decide to attend and need directions." Parke dropped the pen, walked out the bedroom, and slammed the front door behind him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Thursday morning, Malcolm didn't feel contrite about Parke's foul mood when he and Lisa boarded their Southwest flight to Chicago. With their fingers linked, Malcolm observed Lisa as she looked out the window. She was beautiful. Not only that, Lisa was willing to make him her top priority next to her business.

  He should offer her nothing less. Yes, he was irritated Parke didn't understand, but he was furious with Cameron. His younger brother thought he had the right to call and chasten Malcolm as if he were a child, reciting the virtues of a tightly-knit family. He never had undergone this much drama when he was with Hallison. Probably because Hallison enjoyed his family as much as he did.

  Lisa had turned toward him, moving her lips although Malcolm didn't hear her. She snapped her finger. "What's got you frowning? I've called your name three times."

  In a blink, he erased his musings. Instead of answering, he instructed her, "Close your eyes."

  "What?"

  "Close your eyes," he repeated.

  When she complied, Malcolm inched closer and brushed a kiss against her lips. They both tried to end it, but their lips had a mind of their own until an attendant asked about a drink selection. Clearing their throats, they smiled.

  "Malcolm, I'm so glad you could get away," she whispered minutes later as she sipped her ginger ale. "I meant what I said. I'm ready to take our relationship further, and I don't have a problem staying until the weekend."

  "Stop tempting me, lady." Malcolm didn't sound convincing to his ears. As a matter of fact, he was feasting on her enticements. Granted, he didn't jump in and out of bed with women, nor did he profess love to them when he did, but Lisa had been seducing him since the first day she walked into his office.

  He was careful to steer clear of possible entrapments. Sometimes she seemed rather eager, but Lisa was hot. He preferred the hunt, but Lisa had laid her trap open. It was all about the chase, but Lisa was the aggressor, the lioness. She hadn't seen him in his predator mode, but she would by the time their plane returned home.

  "Hmm. I'll be good for right now. Let me tell you what's been going on at the store. I've been recalculating my—" she started.

  He held up his hand to stop her. "Lisa, you know we have a don't ask, don't tell relationship. While my firm is auditing Gertie's Garden, I can't ask you any questions. It's better if you don't divulge anything about the store. I'm sorry, baby, but this is a pleasure trip, and I expect us to please each other."

  Annoyed, she nodded and didn't say another word. Instead she stared at Malcolm as if deciding whether she should shoot darts his way. Finally, she lifted a brow and smirked. "I see, and I expect full pleasure."

  "As you wish." He brushed a kiss against her hand. For the remainder of their short flight to Chicago Midway Airport, Lisa leaned back and closed her eyes.

  When they landed, Malcolm retrieved their carry-on bags from overhead and escorted Lisa off the plane. Once they were outside at ground transportation, Malcolm was surprised and impressed to see Lisa had reserved a limousine to take them to the hotel. Her pampering was all consuming and almost scary.

  "Since we only have this afternoon, let me show you how a Jamieson man wines and dines his woman. I can take you shopping on Michigan Avenue, have a late lunch on the Navy Pier, and cap off our outside activities at the top of the Ferris wheel. I hope you don't mind dessert in our bedroom." He winked.

  "Malcolm, to be honest, I didn't come to Chicago for anything else but to make love to you all day, night, and until the weekend if you think you can hold up," she whispered in the back seat of the limo.

  "You're making it hard for a man to say no."

  "Then don't."

  He didn't. They checked into a ritzy hotel on the lake-front. Lisa couldn't keep her hands off him during the ride up the elevator. When it stopped on their floor, Lisa led the way with a seductive switch. Malcolm couldn't do anything but lust. He had to calm himself down. She was about to slip the card into the door slot when Malcolm snatched it.

  "Lisa, let me seduce you on this trip," he commanded.

  "It's too late. I'm in control."

  The next morning, Malcolm rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom, thinking about his relationship with Lisa. He wasn't in love with her, and she didn't demand it. Malcolm had loved only one woman—Hallison—and they should've been married by now. He stepped in the shower and tried to wash away any lingering feelings for Hallison.

  He enjoyed a healthy sex life. The thrill of Lisa leading him like a sheep ready for slaughter was exhilarating. He was fearless, a strong Jamieson man... and terrified of bed bugs. He couldn't help it, and it was the second time in almost ten years he had seen any before making love to a woman.

  When he was a boy, he had spent the night at a friend's house. The following morning he went home covered with a nasty red rash over his entire body. Ever since then, he double-checked mattresses wherever he planned to sleep. Lisa had been furious, but Malcolm was serious about checking into another hotel. She reluctantly agreed, but the sexual fire was drenched. To buy himself some time and recapture the mood, Malcolm had suggested dinner on the Navy Pier.

  It took a little convincing, but she finally relented. Relieved, Malcolm chose the Riva Restaurant. Lisa had tossed him a saucy smile as their waiter showed them to their table. While perusing the selection, she winked at him over the menus. When their dishes arrived, she dug in, so he bypassed praying over his food, and he reached for a roll instead. Throughout the meal, she brushed up against his leg constantly.

  Lisa swallowed her last bite and wiped her mouth. Malcolm chuckled. "You weren't kidding. You were hungry."

  "I'm in a rush."

  His nostrils flared as she leaned forward.

  "Malcolm, sweetie..." She waited for his undivided attention. "I want to go over some things with you."

  Grinning, he grumbled. "My woman has rules." He dropped his voice. "Anything you want."

  "First, I left major accounts in the hands of my staff to plan a romantic trip with you. Second, unless you're gay, a virgin, or a sanctified fool, I don't see how a few bugs that were placed on this earth could cause you to lose your libido. Oh, let me go back to number one-and-a half. I wanted to engage in a casual discussion about my business with my man. I care about everything in your life, I expect the same courtesy."

  Her brilliant eyes slanted. "On to the third thing. You will pay for this trip. I've never been so humiliated." Swiping the white linen napkin off her lap, she stood and dropped it on the table. Lisa checked her watch. "Now, if you'll pardon me." She stormed out without looking back.

  Malcolm hadn't tried to stop her. She needed to co
ol off, and he needed to get professional help for his fear of bugs. After ordering and eating his dessert, he charged their meal to his credit card and left. Instead of walking, he hailed a cab for the couple of blocks to the hotel. When he went back to their room, she had checked out, leaving a message for him to cover the bill. Thursday night had turned into an expensive letdown.

  Now back in St. Louis, it was Friday morning and a new day. He sighed as he brushed his teeth, glancing at his empty bed. Malcolm wished he could make the previous evening's fiasco disappear. He jumped in the shower, wondering what it would take to restore his reputation with Lisa. Twenty minutes later, he was out of the shower, dressed, and heading to the kitchen. He popped a frozen breakfast meal in the microwave, then ate quickly. Grabbing his briefcase, he left for work. Once there, Malcolm stepped off the elevator and made a beeline for his office without hearing Lilly speak to him as he passed her desk.

  "Well, happy Friday to you, too. That's why I wake up in the morning; to babysit a moody, grown man," she said to his back.

  "Huh?" Malcolm waved. For fifteen minutes, he brain-stormed an acceptable and dignified way to make up with Lisa. He wanted to send her flowers, but having them delivered from competitors would insult her. He signed on his computer and Googled flowers. He was directed to a Teleflora site. "Lilly," he yelled, as if she were down the hall instead of in another room, "I need help. Can you come here a minute?"

  His assistant appeared in his doorway, but didn't make a move to enter.

  "Okay, I'm sorry, Miss Lilly."

  "Took you long enough," she scolded and approached his desk. "Apology accepted. If you're calling me Miss, you want something. What is it?"

  Malcolm mustered his best puppy dog expression for a thirty-three-year-old man. "I need to order flowers... for Lisa." He pointed to his computer.