by Ronn Elmore
Although just thirty minutes had passed, Sean was visibly tired, and his doctor motioned to Lafayette to cut the press conference short.
“I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, that’s all. On behalf of my brother, Dr. Dwayne Grandison—of whom I am very proud—and Sean Wiley, one of the most incredible singers in music today, I thank you for coming here today.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Beverlyn didn’t know what to think as she caught clips of Sean’s press conference on the afternoon news. She’d been right. Dwayne was not gay. And Sean must hate her as well. Immediately, she felt in her gut that this was not good for the ministry. Kim had not been optimistic either, confirming that Sean’s press conference had been quite a coup.
Though the Jubilee Network had not been prominently mentioned at the press conference, it was clear that the network had not only allowed Dwayne to be slandered but also jumped the gun in announcing his resignation and publicly disassociating themselves from Sean. In facing the press, Sean looked like no less than a martyr and Dwayne a saint. But what disturbed her most was what the attorney had said—and what he had left unsaid. She should have gotten Dwayne’s side of the whole incident. Now it was too late. She was sure he had seen her taped statement.
Her heart sank. Perhaps he hadn’t called because he was disappointed that she had not known any better than to believe L.W. Why oh why hadn’t she stuck with her own intuition about Dwayne? And where was L.W. anyway? It had been more than fifteen minutes since she’d asked Tori to tell him she wanted to see him. Just as she was about to pick up the phone, in walked L.W., slamming the door behind him.
“L.W., what is going on? Did you see Sean’s press conference?”
“Yeah, I’ve just been with the corporate lawyers, who’ve said we may have a fight on our hands. Grandison, it appears, is threatening to sue us. I guess that’s his way of saying I love you.”
“Have his lawyers said they’ll sue?” Beverlyn countered.
“Not yet. There is a meeting set for tomorrow …”
Beverlyn shook her head and brought her hands to her face. “This is terrible. I knew something wasn’t right—that I should have waited to talk to Dwayne—”
“I’m sorry, Beverlyn,” L.W. cut her off abruptly. “I just don’t buy it. Sean’s press conference was little more than a ploy to buy sympathy.”
“Well, it worked,” she screamed. “Even I feel sorry for him and wonder how as a Christian I could have contributed to his downfall. As to Dwayne, no wonder he didn’t call me. If I had believed in him, I never would have believed what that Reverend Powell said. And what about that, L.W.? I thought you said you confronted Dwayne.”
“I don’t care what has been said. I know what I saw, and what I saw was a man you were going out of your way to please, while he was gallivanting around town with Sean and that Nina Jordan. Why was all the burden always on you in this relationship? Think about that. You did most of the calling. You did most of the giving, and now you are expected to do most of the understanding too. Why hasn’t he called you? Was it so easy to scare him off?”
He calmed himself before going on. “I know you have your doubts. I have mine too. This is, no doubt, a bad situation. But the last thing we need right now is to second-guess ourselves and not put forth a united front. I’m on your side. Do you really think I would want to do anything to hurt the business empire we’ve worked so hard to build?”
“No, I’m sure you don’t,” she said with the resignation of someone who’d run out of options.
“Look, we’ll get through this. And, Beverlyn, neither I nor anyone else can stop what God has for you. If Dwayne Grandison was meant to be your mate, nothing can stop that.”
He was right, Beverlyn thought. How many times had she stood in a pulpit and admonished audiences to get out of God’s way and turn over their lives to Him—to let Him provide their needs; to let Him choose their mates; to do their part and let Him do His part.
“Beverlyn, for you this thing has been about you and Dwayne, but I want to remind you that there’s a lot more at stake. Look, I have to get over to the studio. I’ll check back with you later.”
As he walked out of her door and down the hall, he was silently cursing Dr. Dwayne Grandison and Sean. Boy, had he underestimated them. That Grandison just wouldn’t die.
And that press conference was a stroke of genius, particularly the part where Sean’s voice cracked as he spoke of Grandison. That was the clip news stations had played again and again. They looked like saints.
L.W. was sorry that he hadn’t finished Dwayne Grandison off. Now it was too late to make another move against him. He needed to stabilize things with the network. There were rumblings from the legal department that his and Beverlyn’s actions had left the network vulnerable to legal action. A settlement meeting had already been slated with Grandison’s lawyers, since he had stated publicly that he did not want his spot back with the network.
He was sure Grandison would not be there, so there was no reason for him to fear the good doctor making an attempt to speak with Beverlyn. Besides, she wouldn’t be at the meeting either. He would make sure of that.
Within a week of the news conference, the Sean Wiley Affair, as it had been dubbed, had faded from prominence in both the mainstream and entertainment news, though it remained a banner item for some of the tabloids. Dwayne found himself picking up the pieces. His lawyers had called earlier that morning to let him know that they had come to a settlement with the Jubilee Network, eliminating the need for further legal action.
Dwayne had signed off on the settlement, which awarded him close to a million dollars. It had been the Jubilee Network’s first offer, and his lawyers had been against accepting it, arguing that no one settles on a first offer, that they could surely get more. Especially since the microcassette had been more effective than first thought.
Network attorneys first argued that the tape—recorded without the knowledge of Linson Lejohn—was in violation of California state law, and grounds for a criminal prosecution as well as a civil lawsuit.
“It is true the taping of a private conversation is illegal under California law,” Mansfield told the lawyers. “However, there is an exception to the use of taped conversations. Maybe you haven’t kept up on the latest case law, but a taped conversation can be used to prevent the commission of an act injurious to a person’s economic well-being. Further, in such a case, that tape can be used in the event of a trial. It’s called defamation, gentlemen.
“Additionally, our client was handed a restraining order which we believe could only have been attained illegally. So, let’s stop playing games and get down to business. Put an offer on the table.”
While they were free to argue the defamation issues, lawyers for the Jubilee Network began to view the microcassette as a smoking gun and opted to settle.
Dwayne had been more interested in the principle than the money. The press conference had restored his integrity and credibility. With the exception of a very few, most believed that Dwayne was not gay, and while he lost about nine clients, the phones were ringing off the hook from prospective clients moved by Sean’s testimony of how the doctor had helped him. So much so that he had to have Monique screen the calls. Finally, he had to turn people away. He’d even gotten an appearance request from Oprah Winfrey, but he declined the offer, opting instead to keep a low profile.
Things were also going better for Sean. Thousands had written letters of support to the ailing entertainer, whose prognosis seemed to be growing worse, but whose spirits couldn’t be higher from the outpouring of love from fans around the country.
And within a month, Dwayne had settled back into a comfortable rhythm that included long hours at his thriving practice, Man-to-Man, and time with family and friends. He spent little time in public places, still wary of the stares from those who seemed unsure of what to believe with regard to the Sean Wiley Affair.
For that reason, Dwayne was hesitant when Nina invit
ed him to dinner at Dulans. He enjoyed the eatery’s down-home cuisine but was worried about running into people he knew there.
“What, no business?” Dwayne asked Nina after they were seated and had given their orders to the waiter without one mention of New Covenant from her.
“Now that you bring it up …”
“I left myself wide open for that one, and here I thought you wanted my charming company.”
“Well, that too.”
He raised his eyebrows and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a sip of water.
Nina looked squarely at him. “We’d like to make you director of Man-to-Man.”
“I never expected this.” He coughed as he put down his glass. “That’s your position, isn’t it?”
“Actually, we’d be codirectors. That way, if something happened to me, you’d be the backup, and vice versa.”
“If something were to happen to you?” He repeated her words as a question.
“You know what I mean.” She brushed him off, realizing she may have erred in her choice of words. “This is an important program and it’s better to have more than one person know everything.”
Her words didn’t convince him. “Is everything all right?”
“What could be wrong? I’m in your charming company and I’ve just made you a very decent proposal. So what’s it going to be?”
“Do I get some time to think about it?”
“Just give in now,” she said. “You know how persistent I am, and by the way, I prepared a proposal to show how much of your time it would take up, but I rushed out of the house and forgot it. We can get it on the way back.”
“Oh joy!” he said sarcastically.
They laughed and chatted casually through the catfish, mashed potatoes, okra, and hush puppies. He paid the bill and they returned to Nina’s apartment. As they walked to her door, he thought about how the night had been such a welcome relief from the monotonous routine he’d developed since Higher Ground. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d laughed, and not once was Beverlyn or Higher Ground mentioned. The nightmare was at last behind him.
The baby-sitter was barely out of the door when Nina said, “I’m going to check on Omari. I’ll be right back.”
Dwayne touched her arm slightly. “Would you mind if I came with you? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Of course.” Nina took his hand and led him down the hallway, which had been plastered with framed family photos.
They tiptoed into Omari’s room. Dwayne smiled as Nina took her son’s feet and positioned him in the twin bed so that his head was back at the top.
“I don’t know why I do that. In twenty minutes, he’ll be upside down again.”
Dwayne leaned against the wall, watching as Nina picked up the checkered comforter from the floor, covered Omari, kissed his forehead, and then she and Dwayne quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” Nina moved toward the kitchen.
Dwayne followed, but shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”
“Then let me get the proposal so that you can leave.”
“No, get your tea. I don’t mind staying.”
“It will just be a few minutes.”
He leaned against the narrow arch separating the kitchen from the living room and watched as Nina filled the teapot with water. He grinned broadly when she turned to him.
“What are you grinning about?”
“The really good time I had with you tonight.”
“Me too.” She took a cup from the cabinet and dropped a tea bag inside. “The proposal is right over here,” she said, pointing to the table. She moved toward the entryway, but Dwayne blocked her path, standing steadfast, as if he had no intention of letting her pass. Their eyes held for long seconds, until finally Dwayne stepped aside. Nina smiled nervously—he had only given her a few inches. She moved past, careful not to touch him as she brushed by.
It wasn’t until she reached the table that she realized she’d been holding her breath. “Here it is,” she said, gripping the folder tightly.
She turned around and gasped. Dwayne was standing close behind her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He peered into her eyes.
“You didn’t.”
He took the folder but held her gaze. “Do I make you nervous, Nina?”
The teapot whistled and Nina rushed back into the kitchen.
Dwayne took a seat on the couch, opening the binder and scrolling through the document. Moments later, Nina took a seat at the opposite end of the long couch.
“Just like before, the schedule won’t conflict with your office hours. And if it interferes, I’ll understand if you leave—”
He cut her off. “I won’t leave again. I’ve learned a lot in these few months and I now know what’s most important.”
“I don’t know if I ever said this.” Nina lowered her cup and moved closer to him. “But I admire the way you handled things. Even as your world was falling apart, your primary concern was Sean. I was so proud of you.” She touched his arm lightly.
He looked down at her hand, still resting near his elbow. “Thank you,” he said softly, lifting his hand and letting his palm cup her face. When she didn’t protest, he moved forward, his lips angled toward hers. But just as their lips touched, Nina pulled back.
“Dwayne, no …”
His eyes questioned her.
“With everything that’s going on,” she started to explain, then stopped.
“Nina, this is about you and me. There’s been something between us for a long time. We haven’t faced it.”
“What about Beverlyn?”
He shook his head frantically. “That wasn’t real. I can’t explain it,” he said. “Maybe it was the glitz and the glamour. Maybe it was the whole Hollywood thing. Or maybe”—he paused and pulled her closer—“it was because I couldn’t have you.”
This time it was Nina who raised her hand to his face, and there were tears in her eyes. “Dwayne, I can’t do this.” Her hand was still in place. “You should go.”
He stood, following her lead, then reached for her, but she stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. When he moved toward her, she turned away. He stood in place until he heard her whisper, “Please, go.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked to the door. As his hand covered the knob, he glanced over his shoulder. Nina had moved to the window, her back still to him. He stepped into the hallway and closed the door.
Dwayne glanced at the clock on the dashboard again. More than thirty minutes had passed and he was still roaming the streets of L.A., playing the evening over and over again in his mind. He turned onto Wilshire, driving almost mechanically, his mind still seeking answers to the questions Nina had left hanging.
Dwayne was as sure of Nina’s feelings as he was of his own. He could tell by every exchanged glance, every inadvertent touch, every tentatively spoken word. From the beginning, sparks sizzled just beneath the surface, waiting for them to concede to the inevitable.
He tapped his thumbs against the wheel, his eyes glued to the traffic signal. “Something has to change.” The light turned green, and suddenly, he swerved his Jaguar across the double yellow lines making an illegal U-turn. A solo horn blared, but Dwayne sped down the street, ignoring the driver.
Nina was sitting on the floor with her back against the couch when she heard the light taps on her door. She sniffed, trying to compose herself. She thought it was the baby-sitter. Only she would come to her door so late. Nina looked around the living room searching for what Agnes could have left behind. But all she saw was the half-filled cup of tea and the proposal on the table where Dwayne had left it.
Wiping her eyes, she forced herself to stand. She frowned deeply when she peeked through the peephole, but still opened the door.
“Nina, we have to talk.” Dwayne stepped inside.
“Dwayne, it’s …” She moved away from
him.
He closed the door and moved up behind her. “I know you feel the same, Nina.” With his fingers, he gently lifted her face. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me. Until you tell me what’s really going on here.” With his thumb, he wiped a tear away. “Why are you holding back?”
Her eyes were closed as she shook her head.
Slowly, Dwayne dropped his hand. “Okay, Nina. I’m sorry. This won’t happen again.” He turned from her.
“All right, Dwayne… ,” she relented.
When he turned and pulled her into his arms, burying himself in the softness of her hair, her head fell against his chest.
“I didn’t want this to happen.” She began sobbing.
“What?” he pleaded. “Nina, talk to me.”
“I have cancer,” she gasped, then covered her mouth as if trying to retrieve the words.
His eyes widened, and they stood waiting for the silence to reveal what should happen next.
Finally, Nina sighed and said, “I want to check on Omari. I’ll be right back.”
Dwayne’s eyes followed her as she hurried down the hall, leaving her words hanging in the air.
I have cancer.
Alarms went off in his mind. What have you gotten yourself into? You’ve already lost one wife. But Nina couldn’t be dying. She was so young and healthy and vibrant. This is too much, his head was saying. But it was his heart that he was listening to, and it was telling him that Nina was the one woman he was meant to be with.
He looked down the hall, anxious for her return, but there was only darkness. He needed her to come back—to fill in the blanks. Finally, there she was—walking slowly toward him, her eyes downcast, her arms folded across her chest.
He had so many questions, but he opened his mouth and uttered just one word. “Cancer?”
“Breast cancer.” She sat in the adjacent chair, staring straight ahead.
“How long have you known?”
She dropped her arms but continued to stare straight ahead, expressionless. “It’s been a few years. I’ve been in remission twice.”