She Who Finds a Husband: New Day Diva Series Book One (New Day Divas Series 1)

by E. N. Joy

  Norman loved when what he called “chick movies” were playing at the theatre. That meant chicks would be coming in droves. He’d never gotten more phone numbers in his life than when the movie Sex and the City was playing. Now he was aiming to beat his personal best with the movie, The Women, starring Jada Pinkett-Smith.

  Norman had worked for the theatre for four years, which was one year longer than Paige had. But when the manager position became available, Paige’s skills and dedication paid off more so than Norman’s length of time with the company. Norman didn’t make a stink about it because he knew that he could sometimes be a slacker. Besides, managerial duties would take him away from all the action that he so looked forward to as he worked the ticket booth.

  Fortunately, there had never been any complaints from the customers regarding Norman’s flirtatious antics. Actually, some women made it a point to return to the theatre because of Norman. They hoped he would be the one to wait on them and perhaps shower them with a compliment or two that might lift their moods and make their day. Sometimes women needed that type of thing to boost their self-esteem, and a few were even willing to pay $7.50 just to get it.

  “I’ve been ready to get out of here,” Paige replied to Norman. No one had to tell Paige twice to get to gettin’ as she keyed her code into the cash register that logged her out. She moved aside so that her subordinate could key in his.

  “Why are you so ready to get out of here? Got a hot date tonight or something?” Norman teased, bumping Paige’s shoulder as he winked.

  Paige hated when Norman did that; assumed that just because she was single, she couldn’t enjoy the alone time that the single life enabled her. For some reason he thought she had to always be up under some man, and his frequent comments confirmed such. He would often say things to Paige like, “Have a good evening, and don’t do anything I haven’t done already. Wink-wink.” And then there was the most offensive one of them all: “So what did you get into last night, or should I ask who did you let get into you? Wink-wink. ”

  When Paige first started working for the theatre, she had enjoyed chatting it up with Norman over their lunch period and breaks. And his little comments like that had never seemed to bother her back then. She’d simply wink back or smile. With her being single as well as he, they would often laugh until their bellies hurt, sharing their date from the pits of hell stories. Ironically, Norman nor Paige ever even thought twice about dating each other. The two had nothing in common besides being single, and it was painfully obvious that they weren’t attracted to each other the least bit.

  Norman was a tall, skinny, slinky white guy; not that Paige hadn’t dated a few Caucasian men before. But she’d always preferred a man who had plenty of meat on his bones, considering she was a thick girl herself; size sixteen. Norman, too, had dated outside of his race. But they had been blind dates or someone he’d met over the Internet without the benefit of seeing a picture of them first.

  That’s something Paige didn’t do; blind dates or Internet dates. Not even when Tamarra tried to set her up on a blind date with some man she’d met at one of her catering events. Tamarra had sworn to Paige that her spirit was telling her this man was the one for Paige. She based it on everything Paige had shared with her regarding what she didn’t want in a man. As much as Paige trusted Tamarra and valued her opinion, a blind date she would not do, especially after Tamarra had only spent a couple of hours at best with the stranger.

  But Norman drew the line nowhere. He did the blind date and Internet dating thing on the regular. So Paige didn’t know if he otherwise would have willingly dated a minority woman or not. Either way, there was no chemistry or even the slightest interest between them.

  “Who’s the lucky fella that’s got you so anxious to get out of here tonight?” Norman pressed. “Or should I say who is the soon to be lucky fella?” He nudged her with his elbow a couple of times, and then winked.

  Paige shot Norman a forced smile, but what she really wanted to do was roll her eyes, exit the booth, and ignore him completely. Maybe then he’d get the hint that the old days were long gone. Not because she was now his superior, but because now she was saved. Her walk had changed, so her talk had changed.

  In times like these, she regretted discussing her multiple dates and encounters with Norman. And although she never told Norman that she had slept with any of these men, she never told him that she hadn’t. As experienced as Norman was when it came to sex, which he had boasted about on many occasions in their past conversations, Paige couldn’t dare allow him to believe that she wasn’t just as equally experienced. So she let him assume and insinuate things about her without correcting him. Now she wished she hadn’t.

  Paige had been saved thirteen months now, and as hard as it sometimes was for her to walk her Christian walk, it seemed even harder for Norman to remember that she even had a Christian walk. She always felt like she was the one to blame for Norman not being mindful of her Christianity. The words from one of her pastor’s past messages would often bring about this doubt. “You shouldn’t have to wear Christianity on your sleeve. You shouldn’t have to run around telling people you are a Christian. People should be able to look at you and know that you are a Christian. God said He made us in His image. Well, do you look like your Father?”

  It was obvious that Paige didn’t look like a Christian or Norman wouldn’t be so forgetful about it. She made a mental note to call up Mother Doreen and ask for some guidance about that. She’d been a Christian longer than anybody she knew. Surely she’d encountered her share of Normans.

  Paige grabbed her purse and keys and instead of the normal, “Enjoy your shift,” she’d usually give Norman, this time she said, “Have a blessed evening,” leaving Norman standing there looking as though she was speaking a foreign language.

  “Yeah, okay.” He snickered. “Hopefully God will bless me by putting it on one of these beautiful women’s hearts who are heading this way to give me their phone number. Umm, umm, umm.” Norman licked his lips.

  Paige shook her head as Norman went to work with his smooth operator skills on the two women that approached the ticket window. “God help him,” she said under her breath as she closed the door behind her.

  Before heading to her car, Paige stopped off into the ladies room after contemplating whether or not she could control her bladder until she got home. Not. Exiting one set of the glass double doors, Paige waved at Norman as she walked by the ticket booth on her way to her car. He replied by tapping his top shirt pocket, which meant it held one of those women’s phone number, if not both knowing Norman.

  “Oh, excuse me. I’m so sorry. I was too busy waving at my co-worker, and I didn’t see you,” Paige apologized to the gentleman she’d just run smack into.

  “Don’t worry about it. I guess you’re not the only one who doesn’t realize I’m standing out here.” The gentleman exhaled, then looked down at the two tickets he held in his hand. He then looked down at his watch as if catching that movie with the person he was waiting for was a lost cause.

  “No-show, huh? Your date that you’ve been waiting for is a no-show?” Paige rubbed it in unintentionally.

  “Looks that way.” He looked down at his watch for the hundredth time, and then scanned the parking lot.

  “Maybe you should try calling her,” Paige suggested.

  “Nah. It’s getting late. Besides, I guess I should be used to this by now.” He shook his head and let out a deep, exasperated breath. “Have a blessed one,” he told Paige as he headed toward the parking lot.

  “You have a blessed one too.” As Paige watched the man walk away, she wondered how in the world any woman could stand up such a fine specimen as himself. Sizing him up to be about six foot tall, two hundred thirty pounds of muscle with wavy hair that made him look as though he had Indian in his family, Paige thought this man had to be God sent.

  She thought about stopping him in his tracks and offering to view the movie with him, as Paige had hardly been
one to shy away from men. Bold and no shame in her game, she was always the aggressor when it came to getting her man. If she was ever going to finally give up the dating game, find her a husband, and settle down, she couldn’t just sit back and wait for one to show up on her doorstep. Otherwise, she’d be a member of New Day’s Singles Ministry until her hair grayed.

  By the time Paige figured she’d go for what she knew and offer to be this gentleman’s date for the evening, he was already in his car. “Now chasing a man down, tapping on his window and all that. Desperate, I’m not,” Paige told herself, then walked a few cars down to her own vehicle.

  Once inside her car, Paige started the engine and turned on her Jill Scott Live CD. In addition to gospel music, she loved neo soul, jazz, and some R&B artists like Maxwell. She put the car in reverse and backed out as she sang along with Jill. All of a sudden, Paige slammed on her brakes when she noticed a shiny, black Escalade behind her. “Oh no,” she mumbled. She realized that she was so busy singing to the CD that she hadn’t even looked out of her rearview mirror to make sure no cars were coming before backing out.

  Nervousness filled Paige when the driver’s door to the Escalade opened and the owner approached her car.

  “I’m sorry . . . again,” Paige said to the driver, rolling her window down. “That’s the second time tonight I didn’t notice you, huh? Guess I’m not doing much to salvage what’s left of your ego.” Paige put her hand over her mouth, although it was too late; those somewhat insulting words had already escaped. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

  The gentleman smiled. “No need to apologize. I was just checking to make sure you were okay. You slammed on your brakes pretty hard.”

  “Yes, I’m okay. Thanks for asking though. And again, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, since I know your name is Sorry, I suppose I should tell you mine. I’m Blake.” He held out his hand.

  “I’m—”

  “Sorry,” he finished her sentence. “I know, you have told me a few times already.”

  Paige smiled at this gentleman’s cleverness and play on her words. Heck, he might even give Norman a run for his money.

  “My name is Paige. I’m Paige Robinson,” she stressed, shaking his hand while staring in his eyes. “And yes, I’m okay.”

  “I know, you told me already, but I’m glad you’re okay. Be careful, Paige,” he told her as he began to walk off.

  “I will,” she promised him. Paige watched out of her side view mirror as the man headed back to his vehicle.

  Suddenly, he turned around and walked back toward her. “I know this might sound crazy, but I have two tickets to a show that’s playing in there.” He pointed toward the theatre. “No need to let the tickets go to waste. You seem like you have a lot on your mind with the way you keep trying to run me down and all. Perhaps you would enjoy a relaxing movie.”

  “You said that you have two tickets. I’d only need one,” Paige teased.

  “Well, I was thinking I’d use the other. I mean, we could leave an empty seat in between us so that it wouldn’t be like a date or anything. I know a woman of God such as yourself wouldn’t want to give out the wrong impression. Like my pastor always preaches, avoid the appearance of evil.”

  Blake stood there while Paige took in his words. Woman of God, she repeated in her head. He called me a Woman of God. Then she even thought back to just a couple of minutes ago when he’d told her to have a blessed evening. Sure he could have said good evening to any other woman, but to her, a woman whom he recognized as a woman of God, he said blessed evening.

  Paige couldn’t have tried if she might to conceal the huge grin that stretched across her thick lips and chubby cheeks. God had sent this man to remove the doubt that had been plaguing her about not having the appearance of a Christian. This man had clearly seen that she was a Christian without being told; without her wearing it on her sleeve. This man obviously knew who God was and what God looked like, and he had seen Him in her. This could only mean one thing; that he, too, was a Christian. She relied on her childhood saying—it takes one to know one—as confirmation.

  Paige pondered over whether this entire occurrence could also mean one other thing; something much bigger than the current revelation she’d just received. But she decided that she’d pray on all that stuff later. For now, she had a movie to catch. And a fine looking man to catch it with.

  Chapter Five

  Deborah had barely made it inside the door of Max and Erma’s when a man approached her. “Deborah? Are you Deborah Lucas?” The gentleman walked up to Deborah with an extended hand.

  As handsome as the man standing before her was, most women would have probably claimed to be Deborah Lucas whether they really were or not. There this brown skin, average height gentleman with a tight fade stood before Deborah. The hypnotic cologne he wore lingered in the air. Deborah didn’t recognize it, as she didn’t make herself familiar with male colognes. He wore a black Sean Jean suit that looked custom made to fit every arch of his sculptured body, yet Deborah was unfazed.

  Deborah, just like she did whether she was meeting a male or female client, had prayed, anointing her head with blessed oil. And right now, according to the Bible, He who was in her was definitely greater than he who is in the world; because her spirit man had total control over her flesh. She wasn’t the least bit interested in having anything to do with this man other than reading his manuscript.

  Had she not prayed and anointed herself, she could have very well, like many women before her, she figured, been putty in this man’s hands. But that wasn’t at all the case. Deborah had the gift of discernment. She had that gut feeling before she even walked out of her front door that she would need to be as tuned in as possible to what her spirit man might try to convey to her about this man.

  “Yes, I’m Deborah. Mr. Chase?” Deborah held out her hand.”

  “The one and the only. But please, call me Lynox.”

  “Shall we grab a table, Mr. Chase?” Deborah asked, looking him dead in his eyes.

  “I hear you, Deborah.” Lynox chuckled at Deborah’s insistence.

  The two walked up to the hostess’s booth and was immediately led to a table toward the middle of the restaurant.

  “Uh, can we sit somewhere else? A booth or something?” Lynox asked the hostess as he scanned the restaurant. “How about there?” He pointed to a booth far off in the corner.

  “Sure, not a problem.” The hostess picked up the menus she had already set on the table and led the couple over to the booth.

  Deborah followed. She sniffed, knowing that not even the most expensive cologne in the world could cover up the scent of a dawg’s—

  “Your waiter will be right with you,” the hostess stated before walking off.

  A few moments after Lynox and Deborah were comfortably seated, their waiter then came over and took their drink and lunch orders. Lynox ordered the famous Erma Burger with fries and asked that a glass of strawberry lemonade be prepared for him, even though it wasn’t a regular item on the menu. Deborah ordered a glass of water with lemon wedges and a house salad. Although she was hungry and could have devoured an Erma Burger, she planned on doing more talking-getting down to business and less dining.

  “So where’s this masterpiece of yours?” Deborah said just as soon as the waiter walked away from the table. She purposely left no room for idle conversation or chit-chat.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” With a huge grin on his face, Lynox cracked open the briefcase he’d carried into the restaurant with him. He pulled out what appeared to be an entire ream of paper and dropped it in the middle of the table. “Voila!”

  Deborah couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you serious?” Deborah pulled the manuscript over to her side of the table. “What is this? Five hundred pages?” She created a fan with the corner pages, flipping through them. “Unless there’s a four-eyed white kid casting spells in this book, the first thing you’re going to have to do is cut this book down.”
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br />   “I know it’s intimidating, all those pages. But trust me, there is action, excitement, and drama . . . oh yeah . . . and sex, on every single page. Plenty of sex.” He winked. Deborah sniffed.

  “Well, today, during lunch, I’ll let you tell me a little bit about the book and what your inspiration for writing it was. And I’ll just take the first four chapters with me to read, and if I’m interested, I’ll request the remainder of the manuscript.” Deborah flipped through the stack of papers in order to get the four chapters she’d need.

  “Please, just trust me on this one.” Lynox put his hand atop of Deborah’s in order to stop her from taking four chapters only. “Save me the postage and just go ahead and take the entire manuscript with you now. It’s really just that good. As a matter of fact . . .” He removed his hand off of Deborah’s when he realized that she wouldn’t look up from his hand touching hers until he did so. “ . . . I’ll be quiet for the next few minutes while you read the first chapter. You’ll see what I’m talking about. I know you hear this kind of thing all the time, everyone thinks they have the next bestseller, but trust me, I, Lynox Chase, really do.”

  The waiter interrupted by setting their drinks down, and then letting them know that their food would be out shortly. Once the waiter left, Deborah looked at the huge manuscript, gave Lynox the this-better-be-good look, picked up the first few pages and began to read them.

  After reading only the first three pages, she forgot all about Lynox even being there. The story was intense from the very first line. It was thought provoking from page two. The characters were alive and breathing on page three. She had yet to have stumbled over one grammatical error or misuse of the English vocabulary. She was absolutely flabbergasted. The author of this work, the man whom she deemed somewhat conceited and arrogant that was sitting across from her, had backed up his every word. Deborah was now coming to the conclusion that Lynox wasn’t conceited or arrogant, he was simply walking in confidence with authority. He knew he’d authored something special. And now she felt honored that he’d chosen her to represent his work.