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

by E. N. Joy

  Maeyl thought for a moment. “What dry cleaners are the uniforms at?”

  “Mr. Lawson’s,” Tamarra answered. Mr. Lawson ran the only dry cleaners in Malvonia. “But he closes at six. It will be too late by the time I finish the first catering affair, and I don’t have time to stop before hand.”

  “How ’bout I help you out by stopping by Mr. Lawson’s to pick up the uniforms. I can meet you up at the church so that you’ll have them before your second catering affair.”

  “Could you really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. Just put your phone on vibrate or something, and I’ll text you once I’m outside of the church.”

  “Oh, thank you so much, Maeyl. You are a life saver.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll see you this evening.”

  Tamarra hung up the phone feeling good that she had one less thing to worry about. She was thankful for Maeyl. The two had talked on the phone almost every day for the past month. They’d even gone out on two more occasions after their initial date. Although Maeyl was an attractive man, she was so thankful that prayer worked and God was allowing her to see this man’s heart and characteristics versus just his physical being. In Tamarra’s opinion, Maeyl was the epitome of what’s on the inside of a person mattering most.

  The fact that Tamarra also exercised some of the dating tactics she’d learned from the Singles Ministry helped her to keep her and Maeyl’s courtship on the straight and narrow. Tamarra had allowed Maeyl to come to her house, but only to pick her up. She was impressed when he came to her door to let her know he had arrived, and didn’t even allow Tamarra enough time to invite him in to wait, even if she had wanted to. He simply told her how lovely she looked followed with an, “I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

  Impressed didn’t capture how Tamarra felt. Blessed was more like it. She could tell by Maeyl’s actions that she was receiving reciprocity early on in this relationship. He respected her just as much as she respected him. With this mutual respect, they each had avoided finding themselves in compromising, tempting positions. But unfortunately, avoiding the mere appearance of evil would soon become something they unknowingly would fail to escape.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m so sorry,” Deborah apologized, embarrassed out of her mind. She looked around Family Café to make sure no one had seen her disgusting act of spitting water out of her mouth onto the person who sat across from her. From the looks of things, she was in the clear. Every one was either too busy indulged in their own conversations or had their faces buried in their delicious entrees.

  “That’s quite all right.” Lynox removed the silverware from the cloth napkin on the table and proceeded to wipe down his blazer. “Seems like every time we meet, I end up with a dry cleaning bill,” he joked with a slight chuckle. Any humor he thought might come out of his comment was quickly put to rest when Deborah sat before him with a stone face, not finding anything amusing.

  “What are you doing here?” Realizing she’d asked in a tone louder than she wanted to, Deborah looked around once again to confirm that she hadn’t drawn anyone’s attention. Like Pastor always told the New Day congregation, she had to be careful and mindful of what she was doing and saying at all times because she never knew who she might be witnessing to.

  “You know exactly why I’m here. I wanted to apologize in person. I’ve tried a dozen times over the phone, but you never pick up. I’ve left you messages, but who knows, you’ve probably deleted them without even listening to them. This was the only other way I could think of.”

  Deborah listened to Lynox’s words, and then began to dissect them. She sniffed. Eventually she came to the conclusion that she’d been tricked. Bamboozled. That there was no desperate author in dire need of her editorial services. It had all been a set up. Lynox put some woman up to call her and set up a fake appointment knowing all the while it would be he who would show up to meet with her. Deborah’s blood began to boil.

  “Are you that desperate?” Deborah asked through gritted teeth.

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” Lynox said without regret. “I refuse to allow what happened a month ago at Max and Erma’s to interfere with my passion. My future. My destiny.”

  “Well, from what I could tell, your true passion came in the form of high heels, lipstick, weave, and an attitude,” she spat. “I’m a professional. I don’t have time to get caught up in any drama.”

  “Neither do I, and I haven’t been able to rest knowing that you might have gotten the wrong idea about me.”

  Lynox’s words were sincere as well as the look in his eyes. Deborah sniffed. Nothing smelled fishy, but she had fallen for Lynox’s façade before, and she wasn’t about to fall for it again.

  “Didn’t I make it clear by ignoring your calls that I could care less about you or your book, Mr. Chase?”

  Lynox realized that Deborah was not an easy nut to crack. “Look Deborah—”

  “That’s Miss Lucas to you,” she corrected.

  “Miss Lucas, it was evident that during our date at Max and Erma’s—”

  “Meeting,” Deborah made another correction.

  “Our meeting,” Lynox cleared his throat, “there was something there . . . between us.”

  “Oh, please.” Deborah threw her hand up as if to shoo away Lynox’s perception.

  “Deny it all you want, but I know something was there. We were only in each other’s presence all of an hour, but I know something was there. And I have to be honest and say that I would have loved to entertain it to see where things could have gone.”

  Deborah could not escape the sincerity of the man in front of her no matter how hard she tried. Try the Spirit by the Spirit, was her motto. Well, her spirit was being anything but vexed by Lynox’s presence. As much as she didn’t want to believe it, Lynox was more convincing now than ever. It was very possible that he was exactly who he said he was.

  With Deborah sitting speechless, wrestling with her emotions, Lynox continued. “But all that personal stuff aside, there is still the business aspect of things, the original reason for my meeting with you in the first place.” Lynox lifted the briefcase that had sat beside him in the booth and extracted his manuscript from it. “I printed off another copy for you to take. Please just read it, and hopefully you’ll see its full potential and reconsider representing me.”

  Deborah looked down at the manuscript, then back up at Lynox. She shook her head with confusion as she rested her hand atop the manuscript. “Do you know how many big time agents there are out there who’d love to represent this caliber of work? Why are you so fixated on this small town, literally, small town agent?”

  “I really feel like God has led me to you.”

  “Don’t you dare use God’s name in vain.”

  Lynox let out a deep breath. “Would you at least just pray on it?” he asked, subconsciously placing his hand on hers, just as he’d done at their previous meeting.

  Deborah looked down at the strong, yet gentle, hand that covered hers. The man had asked her to pray on the situation at least, which was something Deborah realized at that moment she hadn’t done. She’d been too busy trying to sniff him out for herself and come to her own conclusion. How could she refuse the man a prayer?

  “Well . . .” Deborah started. There was still slight hesitance in her voice.

  “Please, just pray on it. If God says no, then I’ll go away. But if God says yes . . .” He left that sentence for Deborah to finish on her own.

  Without saying a word, Deborah pulled the manuscript to her and stood up, preparing to leave.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Lynox was ecstatic.

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high. I still have to pray on this.”

  “I know. And like I said, I’m sorry about Max and Erma’s and Helen. I don’t even talk to that woman . . .”

  Just hearing Helen’s name made Deborah’s heartbeat pick up a pace or two. Helen. She’d forgotten all about her. No matter
how sincere Lynox was about his work, she had no idea how Lynox might be connected to Helen. Although he’d just stood there declaring that he didn’t even talk to her, from the way Helen reacted over seeing the two of them together, that wasn’t the complete truth. Complete truth; that was something Helen knew about Deborah; the complete truth about the woman she really was. The woman hiding underneath the one everyone in New Day knew. No matter what God said, Deborah wasn’t going to put herself in a position that would land her in a battle with Helen.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to stick with my instincts and not get caught up.” Deborah tried to hand Lynox the manuscript, but he wouldn’t accept it.

  “Caught up in what? Me and Helen’s relationship?”

  Relationship. There, he’d just said it. He’d just confirmed without even realizing it that he and Helen had a relationship. She knew she smelled a dawg and she wasn’t about to hang around and step in a pile of you-know-what that he might leave behind. No way.

  “Look,” Deborah said sternly, once again getting louder than she’d intended. This time patrons in the café did turn their attention toward her. “I said no. Now take your manuscript and find another agent.” Again Deborah tried to hand Lynox his manuscript back, and again he refused it, this time by folding his arms in a stubborn stance.

  “I’m not going to play games with you, Lynox. All of this has been nothing but a game to you. Arranging this bogus meeting.”

  Lynox sat there with a look of confusion on his face.

  “That makes you a liar,” Deborah continued her rant. “And once a liar always a liar. I don’t know your real motives and hidden agenda, but you can best believe it’s not going to work with me. Here, take your manuscript and lose my number.” Deborah threw the manuscript in front of Lynox. It slid off the table and into his lap, pages floating to the floor.

  Deborah raced out of the café, slamming into a woman who was entering as she was exiting. “Watch where you’re going why don’t you?” Deborah spat to the woman as she made her way to the parking lot and into her car.

  Zelda stood in the café staring out the window and into the parking lot at Deborah. She shook her head. “And she’s got the nerve to be inviting me to church. As if I’m the one who needs Jesus. Hypocrite.”

  Apparently Deborah had thrown Pastor’s message about being careful and mindful of her actions out the window. Now if only those demons that were haunting her would follow.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “But isn’t that what our tithes and offerings are for?” a woman asked, not happy about Mother Doreen’s proposal regarding meeting dues. “Why is it that every Sunday we put money in that basket, then every time we want to turn around and do something, we got to give more money?”

  “Yeah,” another woman who sang in the New Day choir confirmed. “My sister and I just had this same discussion. Her husband had a fit last week when he looked in their checkbook and saw that she had written a check for ninety-six dollars to pay for her new choir robe. She said her husband asked the same thing: ‘Why you got a check written for tithes and offering, then the very next check is to purchase a choir robe? Seems like the tithes and offerings would cover that.’ And she didn’t even have a godly answer for him. So the same thing being brought up right now is only confirmation that all this extra check writing for dues and fees ain’t of God.”

  Deborah washed her hands down her face, and then took a deep breath. Here we go again, she thought before standing up from her seat and walking up next to Mother Doreen who was standing in front of the classroom. It was times like these she wondered why she’d ever even joined the Singles Ministry anyway. It wasn’t as if she really expected God to join her with a soul mate. Surely God didn’t really find her worthy enough to give her a husband, especially not after she tainted her relationship with the man she knew in her heart God had made just for her. The man whose heart she had gone after in the same manner that David had gone after God’s. But still, she figured she’d amuse herself with just the thought. Just the possibility....

  “Look, Sister Gail,” Deborah replied on Mother Doreen’s behalf.

  It wasn’t as if Deborah hadn’t had a hectic evening herself. After her blow out with Lynox in Family Café, she felt awful. It wasn’t until she was halfway home did she recall all the familiar faces in the restaurant who knew her. She knew there were a couple of New Day members who had probably already blown up Pastor’s phone to report how ungodly one of the church’s members had behaved. Although Deborah did care about what others thought about her, a part of her wasn’t going to dwell on it. “Those people don’t know the whole story. They have no idea what I’m dealing with. What I’m going through,” she had told herself.

  “Then tell it. Tell them your story,” her inner voice instructed her. But Deborah had quickly silenced it. And looking out amongst the room at the complaining women who sat before her, surely this wasn’t the group she was supposed to share any part of herself with.

  Deborah tried to control her mind by forgetting about past thoughts and reflecting on the present, so she continued her spiel to Sister Gail. “For now, why don’t we just forget about dues?” Deborah looked to Mother Doreen who agreed with a nod. “Let’s just allow Mother Doreen to continue with the remaining sections of the bylaws. If we don’t have time to come back to it tonight, then we’ll discuss it at a later date.”

  “Sounds good to me. Thank you, Sister Deborah.” Mother Doreen smiled as Deborah headed back to her seat. Before Deborah walked off, they each gave one another a look that was an unspoken commitment to scratch the idea of dues from the list and never bring it up again.

  Just as Deborah was about to sit down, she heard a voice say, “Sorry, I’m late.”

  It can’t be, Deborah thought as she took her seat without looking up for visual confirmation. She didn’t want to put the face with the voice.

  “It’s better late than never. Come on in,” Mother Doreen kindly greeted the woman, who was clad in an all white linen outfit. She wore her hair tightly slicked back with a weave bun that rested in the back of her head. “Just find you a place to sit.”

  Helen stood in the doorway of the classroom, her eyes searching for a place to sit. After a few seconds, her eyes rested on the only available seat in the class room. The seat just happened to be directly behind Deborah.

  As Deborah heard and felt Helen coming her way, she could have kicked herself for not setting out more of the couple dozen or so chairs that were stacked up in the back of the classroom. But she knew no matter how many chairs were out, Helen would have made it a point to strategically place herself right behind Deborah.

  When Helen sat down, Deborah could have sworn she felt heat on her back where Helen was probably burning a hole right through her with her eyes.

  What did this woman want from Deborah? Only time would tell, but in the meantime, Deborah knew it was going to be a mean time.

  Why now? That was the question that lingered on Deborah’s mind as she concentrated more on the woman sitting behind her than the meeting at hand. Why now was her past all of a sudden coming back to haunt her? Terrorize her? Yes, terrorize was a more fitting word. Deborah knew God must have been trying to tell her something. She wished He’d just spit it out plain and clear so that she could move on already. But maybe that was it; that was the message God was trying to get across. Perhaps He didn’t want her to move on like she’d spent the last four years so desperately doing. Perhaps He wanted her to face this thing dead on.

  “Sister Deborah? Sister Deborah?”

  Deborah didn’t know how many times the woman in front of her had tried to get her attention before she finally snapped out of her thoughts.

  “Sister Deborah?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” Deborah took the papers that the woman was extending to her.

  “Pass Sister Helen a copy of the bylaws.”

  “Oh, sure. Certainly.”

  “You okay?” the woman couldn’t help but ask. “
You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’m fine,” Deborah lied with ease. Lying seemed so easy now. After all, she’d been lying to herself for quite some time. “I haven’t seen a ghost.” Deborah forced a chuckle before turning to hand Helen the bylaws. Just the devil, she thought when Helen locked eyes with her. Just the devil himself . . . herself.

  After a half hour of going over the bylaws, Helen excused herself to go to the ladies room. She didn’t really have to relieve herself. Well, not technically the way everyone else thought anyway. But she did have to relieve herself from that sad group of women that remained in that stuffy classroom.

  Once Helen entered the bathroom and saw that the two stalls were empty, she let out a sigh of relief. “Lord, have mercy. What a pathetic group of women they are.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “I am too much of a diva for this group.” She admired every inch and curve of her size fourteen frame. “Imagine a group of women having to create rules on how to meet and get with a man.” She chuckled. “What’s your kingdom coming to, Father?” Helen shook her head as she ran her hands down her body.

  She smiled, feeling blessed that she had what it took to get a man; that she wasn’t all desperate like she’d always assumed members of any Singles Ministry to be. She knew how to find herself a man, a husband if she wanted one. Of course her husband would have to accept that one little flaw of hers; a flaw she minimized as small but knew that to a man, especially one without children, it could be major. But that wasn’t why she’d joined the New Day Singles Ministry anyway. Her real reasons were yet to be revealed, but in the meantime, she’d just have to grin and bear it, and in her opinion, suffer by keeping company with those women she could barely tolerate on Sundays.