In Covenant with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  It felt like the span of an entire shift, ringing him up, that’s how heavy and intense his presence was. I had to continue and the only motivation keeping me moving was I knew the quicker I finished, the faster he’d be gone.

  I bagged the five boxes as neatly as my trembling fingers would allow and handed them over to the two men, standing ready to receive them. I couldn’t look at Ezra. Like an idiot, I smiled at his two associates and bade them a good night.

  “Thanks for your assistance this evening, Alexis. Perhaps after this encounter you should learn the possibility of the customer being right,” Ezra warned before turning to leave the counter.

  I remained fastened in place, unable to greet a nearby customer when I suddenly felt the heaviness of my bladder. Shit! I had to pee.

  “Damn, was he intense or what?” I heard over my shoulder. I knew it was Anushka without turning to confirm it.

  “Thanks a lot for making yourself ghost while I dealt with that impossible ass.”

  “Ass? I can’t tell because of his coat,” she muttered ruminatively as we faced the leaving trio.

  “Whatever, Annie. You’re no ride or die.”

  “I am,” I heard the pout in her words. “He just scared the shit out of me is all. Looks like you had it all under control, though.”

  I leaped to face her. “And how would your punk ass know when you were hiding in the stalls?”

  Anushka recoiled. “Lexi! You know we’re dawgs.”

  “Fuck you, Annie.” I did a reverse nod and began to walk off. “There’s a customer over in shoes. I gotta take a damn leak.”

  As I padded off, it hit me: I never asked how he knew my damn name!

  three

  Lex

  I bolted through the door of the Grace Room, not wanting to miss the group before they ended the meeting. It was dark but for the projector screen at the front of the room. I sighed of relief. I hated getting to class late or requesting to leave early, but to have done the latter only to have missed the meeting entirely would’ve pissed me off. In the dimness I noted a few more unfamiliar heads than at the last one, but didn’t have time to survey the room.

  “Lex!” I heard Lillian’s call to the right of me at the head of the room. “You’re just in time. Soooooo much accomplished this meeting.” Her eyes were filled with unbridled excitement.

  I nodded my head and started toward the long conference room table. Before I could locate a vacant seat, I smelled him. His visceral scent sent me stumbling, needing to grab a hold of a seat to balance myself. It was awful. I felt like I was plagued with vertigo. Steadying myself, I made my way to a seat at the center of the table and dumped my crossbody bag before sitting.

  “So, that’s it,” Lillian announced proudly. “That’s the concept of Women Learn Now!” She moved to turn on the lights. “Any questions?”

  When the lights were up, I noticed Miranda, who sat next to Thaddeus. His eyes were stapled to Lillian. He must be new to her persuasive speech skills, I thought to myself. Then I glanced to the right of them and noticed him. His eyes were on me, face inexpressive, but definitely staring unabashed before shifting his attention back to Lillian.

  “So, what’s the timeline on this project?” Ezra asked.

  I couldn’t remove my gaze from him. He wore a heather gray cable sweater over a stark white dress shirt. Ezra sat perfectly poised with his spine straight and one elbow on the table, totally converse to the guys I’d grown up with on the block.

  “Well, this is just our second meeting—by the way, thanks again for coming and bringing some of your staff. The support means more than you know.” Little Lillian expressed her gratitude so sweetly, giving off that pre-adult persona she used deliberately. Nonetheless, I knew she was sincere. “We’re hoping to have at least five women enrolled in an academic institution this fall semester.”

  “That’s not overly ambitious. We can certainly facilitate that number with our resources.” Ezra glanced back to someone next to me. “Precious, how soon can you be in touch with Deborah Hilton?”

  I turned my head in the direction he spoke.

  “By noon tomorrow, at the very latest, Pastor Carmichael,” Precious answered readily.

  That’s when I recognized she was the ‘Miss America’ chick who assisted Carmichael that night at Bible class. Now, just a few feet from her, I could see her features. She was beautiful…I mean extra gorgeous in a casebook, pageant girl, manner. She sat up straight, shoulders spread and breasts perched over the table, had flawless caramel skin, perfectly almond shaped clementine eyes where there was an upsweep lift at the corners, nose curved nice and evenly oddly like an eagle’s beak, and glamour pouty lips. Her hair fell in copper waves to her shoulders giving attention to the delicate gold rope necklace particularly laid on her skin where her clavicles met at her throat. I couldn’t see what she wore under her tan knitted cape that seemingly was the accurate shade of her skin, but knew she was thin like me, just shorter. Who wasn’t shorter than me? My eyes dropped to her fingers where there was a tri-stoned diamond ring on her middle right finger, but nothing to indicate her marital status. Although Carmichael didn’t wear a wedding band, I wondered if he was in a relationship and was Precious, here, his lady. Was she his type? Prim and golden? That aside, it was clear they weren’t married.

  God bless the woman who had to deal with his impossible ass.

  Ezra turned back to Lillian. “Deborah is the dean of students over at City College. Her husband is the chairmen of the Liberal Arts program. With their cooperation, we can easily enroll five—”

  “…should City College be their school of choice.” All necks rolled my way. “We should allow them to choose their academic career path, not place them in a program because we ‘know people’.” I didn’t like his tone. He seemed very controlling.

  And wasn’t that just like a man in leadership? Always dictating what’s best for women as though we had no minds of our own.

  Our eyes locked and my tongue went heavy in my mouth, that citrusy taste building already. And this wasn’t because he owned the most alluring eyes I’d ever encountered either. It was because I was now on his turf, levying his authority. And I had say because I volunteered my time and professional resources to sit at this table and challenge him.

  Plus, I was still sour as hell about him challenging me on my turf about our inventory. I hoped he could sense that reminder through my eyes as he searched them dedicatedly.

  “Pastor…” That call broke the awkward silence of the room and our warring gapes. “We need to be en route to Teterboro in minutes,” Thaddeus gently warned.

  After a few short moments of silence, “Of course, Alexis,” Ezra replied, and without his authoritative flair.

  “Oh, right!” Lillian exclaimed simultaneously. “Pastor—”

  “Brother,” Ezra corrected without so much as flinching.

  Asshole!

  “That’s right,” Lillian grimaced, feigning embarrassment. “Brother Carmichael’s flying out tonight, heading to City of Refuge in California. Okay,” she exhaled contently. I knew she was happy to have their involvement…his involvement. And it was deserved; Lillian was hugely passionate about this venture. “Well, that’s all the pertinent information for now. I can forward you the official proposal tonight once I get it. I think we’ve gotten so much delegated in this meeting. Thanks again for attending and with your staff.”

  She smiled and that thawed my recently hardened demeanor thanks to Carmichael and his multitude of title preferences.

  “Oh!” Lillian shrilled. “Lex, I shared with the room your need for a self-defense instructor. Brother Carmichael volunteered.”

  My mouth dropped. “Wha-what?” I wet my lips. My eyes flew over to Ezra, whose face was in his tablet. “Ummmmm… I’m sorry, Lilly. I think you forgot to mention the instructor has to be certified.”

  “Oh, Pastor Carmichael is certified in Ninjutsu, not to mention self-defense,” Miranda scoffed.

  Who
the hell asked you?

  She seemed more alert this meeting than last. I was beginning to not like her. Then I found Ezra’s eyes. They were expectant. He was challenging me.

  “This will be a course laid out over a number of weeks. We need someone with that availability,” I pushed. I knew he couldn’t commit to anything long term…although three to four weeks wasn’t exactly long term.

  “Just provide me the dates, Alexis, and I’ll make room for it in my schedule,” he provided with cool demand.

  And there he had again called me Alexis. That’s when it dawned on me.

  Lillian had told him my name and likely where I worked. Knowing short stack, it was under the guise of networking, but something about it seemed creepy to me.

  “Lex,” I heard Lillian call out with a bit of chiding in her tone. When my eyes met hers, she asked, “Will you take Brother Carmichael up on his offer or do you have another prospect?”

  My mind had been too busy turning over information to create a lie. “Ummmm…” I turned to Ezra, whose head was still in his device. “I’ll have to provide more information to see if it’ll be a good fit. I’ll get back to you about it, Past—Brother Carmichael—”

  “Ezra.”

  “Pardon?” My forehead wrinkled.

  Ezra peered up and into my face. “I’ve asked you to call me Ezra, Alexis and I do believe I was clear on that.”

  My mouth dried. I could read him here in front of his staff and parishioners, but that would embarrass Lillian and I didn’t want to do that. But what could I saw now?

  “I have to go,” Ezra filled in the awkward gap for me. “Please be sure to get back to me right away.” He went into his back pocket and pulled out a metal card holder and I was able to catch the fancy calligraphy of his name as he took out a business card and handed it to me. “My contact information that include my private number. The sooner you reach out, the sooner I can make room in my impossible schedule.” He stood from the table. “Thaddeus.” He called out before leaving the room.

  And like that, he was gone, leaving the rest of us to finish the meeting. I couldn’t wait to give little Miss Lillian a piece of my mind. How could she not give me a heads up? And it was also clear how he knew so much about me. It had to be from her!

  Shit.

  Ezra

  He pushed his fists out toward the front of the large oak desk, decorated with framed accomplishments—certificates, proclamations, and an honorary degree—plaques and pictures with notable figures. His computer, which I doubt he used, was the latest Apple model, set off to the side, and the sole picture of his family only included my mother and was smaller than the ones of other women and children he wasn’t tied to legally or biologically.

  He was preparing to turn up his plea, push his agenda further down my throat. It was how he was. It’s what he’d always done. Much of it was my fault because I’d been yet prepared to acquire the inevitable.

  “How much longer, Ezra?” His timbre was composed, chords vibrating beneath the tranquil melody.

  “Our original agreement was October of this year, pastor, was it not?” I straightened in my seat. “I still have eight more months.”

  “Actually, you don’t, son.”

  My brow plucked at that.

  “I saw my doctor yesterday.” He sat back in his burgundy leather wingback chair and cleared his throat. “My test results have come back ‘unsatisfactorily’ is how he put it. Pressure is too high, the stint’s working too hard and now I have sugar…type two—whatever that means. They want to pull me off my schedule right away.” He eyed me shiftily.

  It was hard for a man of his brass nature to admit his fragilities. This was my first time hearing about the Type II Diabetes diagnosis. When he’d undergone percutaneous coronary intervention, a surgical procedure used to address the buildup of plaque in his arteries, his doctors warned us of the complications of other chronic diseases such as diabetes.

  Bishop Sylvester Edward Carmichael was a sixty-eight year-old man who still ate as though he had the metabolism and wherewithal of a twenty-year-old athlete. He may have served God’s people over the years devotedly, but he hadn’t taken care of his physical temple. Instead of being wise with the lofty resources provided by his tenure as a televangelist, tirelessly preaching the gospel to millions over the span of twenty-nine years, he overindulged in food, women, and failed to tend to his body.

  I gave him a few seconds of anticipation before I replied; this is always the best tactic with high strung personalities. It paced their inconsequential output.

  “I’ve taken on all of your away appointments and have absorbed most of the in-house engagements. What more work is left out there for you to do, sir?”

  His upper torso jerked cantankerously and wrist flicked in dismissive demonstration as he blew out air. “Ezra, son, those conferences want advice from a pastor—”

  “The participants of the conferences are expecting sound instruction from a seasoned and decorated preceptor. The title I hold, be it pastor or senior pastor, won’t strengthen my mastery. It only matters to highfalutin COOLJC board members wanting to measure up to peer organizations,” I stated evenly.

  He raked his palms over his face, irritably, struggling to hold his temper. I could see the chords of his neck protruding. “I thought we’d gotten past this, Ezra! I thought you showing up seven years ago was your way of saying you were ready to comply.”

  The mention of the number seven sent a spark of hope to my otherwise weary resolve about this entire ordeal.

  “Have I not, Bishop? Have I not taken on every assignment tasked to me?”

  “So why won’t you just officially take over as senior pastor of Redeeming Souls? You’ve already started rolling heads in our administrative office—that we will discuss.” I caught the intonation in his words. “Does it really matter that it’s a few months ahead of time? This has been the plan for years now.”

  I paid a few moments to allow him to compose. Doing this made way for my response, one that I would not waiver on.

  “It does matter that we hold to the original date of my installment, Bishop. I’m still putting things in place to prepare myself for this enormous undertaking. There’s this one last implement I need to fully submit myself to the seat of pastorship.”

  “What?” he virtually shouted, clearly desperate for insight.

  My father had never understood me. He’d never given me liberty to express myself either. I wasn’t given the option to communicate what my needs or concerns were, what my fears as a child of the throne were. I’d only been expected to perform and be on display for others to covet or abhor, either way to objectify. It wasn’t until I took the reins of my life after Pepperdine that something shifted. Something powerful within that changed the course of my life…temporarily. I realized I could choose the course of my life. It was at that time I learned I had control. Then was when he lost his hold over my world. That was why he now attempted patience in pushing his agenda. It was because he now knew he held no control.

  “A wife.” I bit out softly, then gnawed my thumbnail, covertly sensitive about the topic.

  I could never share how pertinent that one detail of my future had truly been at this point of my life. Not much outside of that mattered. Everything else concerning my impending future as the leader of the most powerful religious organization in Harlem, New York, and one of the most influential in the northeastern region of the country paled by comparison. I’d had a suitable home—several—I had an education—several degrees, countless certifications and licenses—I’d traveled the world—lived on several continents and infiltrated countless cultures, making friends—I’d earned a generous and stable wage, independent of my family’s legacy. I now wanted the final piece to transition into the next and vital stage of my appointed life. I needed a companion.

  The right kind.

  He sighed exhaustedly, lids glimmered as he did. “Ezra, is that all you want?” We can easily take care of that.”
And there was that sinister flicker in his eyes, which was the primary reason I didn’t consult him on such personal matters, and keenly why this was indeed important to me. “Precious has been waiting for your attention for almost twenty years. Marva says she still asks about you and if you’re dating, she’s afraid to talk to you about personal stuff like that…says you scare her.” He snorted. “I can see how with the way you put off that air of disinterest in anything but preaching and work. Why don’t you finally take her on?” The salacious darkness in his eyes returned. “You had to have noticed she’s not that skinny, brace-face kid who used to follow you around, hopelessly, at ten years old.” He applied the Cheshire cat smile. The one that never failed to disgust me. It reminded me of his public relation flack.

  “I’ve no arguments against her features; however, I’m not interested in Precious again, and never will be.”

  “Then who?” His arms flayed in the air. “You have the king’s pickings at your disposal, son! There’s been a new flock of young and single women who’ve officially joined the fold. Are you interested in one of those in particular?”

  It was my turn to snort. There would never be a day that I’d take to my father’s coaching on women and relationships. I modeled my actions after what he didn’t do rather than what he did.

  “This is a matter I’m qualified to take on alone. Now, is there another matter you’d like to discuss before I go?”

  And there was. For seven years since returning to the States, I hadn’t had a woman to hold my interest past what her prayer or counseling requests were. That all changed when I laid eyes on Alexis. I fought her unusual appeal to me from the first time I laid eyes on her in the sanctuary of Redeeming Souls. That experience was like none other. Out of the seven thousand four hundred seats, how her single seat was able to catch my eye was beyond me. I didn’t act on it, constantly fighting my quiescent libido until recently. When she appeared, literally, at the welt of my brogues I could no longer deny my incontestable draw to her.

  His expression morphed into a hard scowl. It’s not every day that Bishop Carmichael is managed and not allowed to navigate a conversation. I was bored with the topic already and needed to progress this meeting so I could return to the office. He took a moment to gather himself, clearing his throat and sitting up in his chair.