“Lance, what is it?”
“My father is a powerful man. He is mesmerizing to watch, but I know him—the real him. He’s manipulative and controlling. It’s no coincidence he took Monica into his home. He’s up to something.”
“Maybe you should call him.” She crooked her head. “Didn’t you say he wanted a relationship with you?”
“I refuse to have anything to do with him… Ever.” Lance spoke through gritted teeth.
Belinda shuddered. “You’re scaring me. I’ve never seen you act like this.”
Lance’s chest heaved. He visibly tried to relax. “I moved and even changed my name, but I still can’t get rid of him.” He sauntered into the kitchen to get a bottled water out of the refrigerator. He opened the cap and took a huge gulp, then extended the bottle toward Belinda who had followed behind him.
She accepted the water and took a few sips.
Lance became volatile when he spoke about his father. He had seen his mother abused and had been abused himself. It had been sheer tenacity…Actually, the hand of God, that he hadn’t become a troublemaker of society. Instead, Lance had earned scholarships through college and medical school. He had become a successful physician despite his father’s words, “You’ll never be anything.”
Now, he was Noah’s right hand at the church. Lance had even delivered the word on several occasions. He had growing to do, but the Holy Spirit’s anointing was clearly depicted in his life. Under Noah’s tutelage, Lance could grow in the ministry.
That’s it. She felt it. She touched her chest. “Your father wants you by his side. He must be so jealous of you with Noah. He’s single, with no other children. You’re his legacy, Lance. He wants you.”
Lance pursed his lips. “You’re putting together a legitimate argument out of thin air. Why didn’t you finish law school?”
“I’m happy with what I’m doing now. I have the foundation and school. My plate is full. Besides, God wants you for ministry,” she declared. Again, she got that feeling. Belinda was kind of scaring herself with her prophetic statement, so she added, “I think.”
Lance’s brows furrowed. “I may give my father a call and find out if Monica is still working for him.”
Belinda shivered. She got the feeling that was Clarendon’s intention all along. Her gut told her Monica was in the vicinity and was just getting warmed up. She sensed her and Lance weren’t prepared for the onslaught coming their way. But, this time she remained silent.
19
“That man is insufferable.” Portia scurried to her desk to rewrite her draft for the third time. She hated to see all the lines scrawled through her work. He was a nitpicker and a whiner. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was doing it on purpose just to tick her off. Nathaniel Lyons was a perfectionist. She’d worked for one so she could spot the symptoms a mile off. At the moment, she missed Sydney like crazy.
Portia wished she’d taken the offer from Bob Griffiths, the senior partner. But, she was enthralled to work for Nathaniel. He was dynamic and he knew his stuff.
When he wasn’t being ornery, Nathaniel taught her a lot. Since he knew she wanted to go to law school, he’d invited her to sit in while he worked with some of his clients. Portia had taken notes, knowing she had been given an invaluable opportunity. That didn’t detract from his keen eye and perfectionism.
Portia had prided herself on her work ethics and performance, but Nathaniel was even better at her job than she was.
She retrieved the document from her desktop. Portia punched the keys as she made the edits. The phone rang and she grabbed it off the hook.
“Sydney! Hey, Boss Friend.” The two chitchatted before Sydney asked to speak to Nathaniel. Putting her on hold, Portia paged him on the intercom.
His bass voice caused an unexpected tingle down her spine. “Send her through.”
She transferred the call. Portia’s stomach twisted at the pleasure evident in his tone. This was Sydney’s fifth call in two days. She knew the two were consulting on Sydney’s cases, but their conversations were a little excessive. She sniffed. Nathaniel’s experience as an attorney surpassed Sydney’s.
Just then, Nathaniel came out his office.
Portia straightened. He had a stack of files in his hands.
“I’m meeting Sydney for lunch. I don’t expect I’ll be back for the rest of the day,” Nathaniel said with a huge smile.
Portia nodded. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils. She didn’t know what it was about him. Nathaniel provoked a physiological response every time he was in her presence. “Okay, tell Sydney hello for me.” She kept her voice chipper, but rolled her eyes as he walked out the door.
As soon as the door closed, Portia called Sydney on her cell. “Is everything okay with you and Noah?”
“Yes. Why?”
Portia heard Sydney’s slight hesitation. She squinted. Sydney was holding out on her. “You don’t sound like it. I know you are under a lot of stress with the baby, but messing around with Nathaniel isn’t cool.” There. She’d said it.
“What?”
“You don’t have me fooled one bit. This isn’t you. You’re a God-fearing woman, always telling me I need to go to church. Don’t get caught up in something you can’t get out of.”
“Portia, I think you’ve said enough,” Sydney warned with an edge to her voice.
Portia knew she was pushing it so she tempered her tone. “I love you, girl, and Noah is a good man. He may be misguided at the moment, but he’s the real deal. Just be careful.”
“Things with me and Nathaniel are strictly professional. You sound jealous. I’ve got to go.”
Portia heard a click before she could even reply. “I’m not jealous,” she mumbled. True, she wanted Nathaniel to herself, but she was concerned about Sydney. She snapped her fingers. She wished she’d thought to ask Nathaniel where they were meeting; she could’ve called Noah and tipped him off. Portia didn’t know what it was that had her low-down radar in alert mode, but her instincts were always on point.
She whispered, “Lord, help my friend.” That was as close to a prayer as she could get. Portia wouldn’t call herself a Christian. She loved partying and other extracurricular activities too much to give it up, but she believed in the power of prayer.
Portia visited Second Sons enough Sabbaths and witnessed the awesome power of God. So, she didn’t doubt His existence. She’d felt the Holy Spirit drawing her, but she wasn’t ready. She was too young and had way too much to do—school, work, and plenty of fun— to become a churchgoing woman. The church life seemed to be a lot about what she couldn’t do. But, she was envious of how joyful the congregation was during praise and worship. Some of the members could even out dance the regular club goers. Portia couldn’t understand how the same people who had problems could rejoice with such abandon. It just didn’t make any sense to her.
And Nathaniel was one of them.
She’d spotted a well-used Bible in his desk at work and knew he read it during his lunch hour. A few times when she’d opened the door to his office, she had caught him on his knees in silent prayer.
She shook her head. Nathaniel just didn’t seem the type.
Before Sydney, Noah and Nathaniel, Portia had a different visual of what saved folk looked like—poor, fat, ugly, desperate. She knew her thoughts were ignorant, but that was her honest perception. Regular looking people went to church, not could-be-if-I-chose supermodels. Yet, these highly intelligent, beautiful, successful individuals chose to dedicate their lives to God.
It made Portia really curious. Maybe there was something to Him after all.
Nathaniel had told her he was going to Sydney’s church this Saturday. She squinted. Maybe, she should go. She needed to protect Sydney from the charms of one finer-than-fine Nathaniel Lyons.
20
Portia skipped the Friday night comedy show at Visani and made sure she was in church early that Saturday morning. She nodded at Belinda who sat three rows ahead of her.
Sydney had given her the evil eye to keep her from pouncing when Lance got up, bold-faced, and asked Belinda to marry him at the foundation’s launch. Who did that? Lance was low-down. Portia looked over at the object of her thoughts.
He and Noah had their heads together and were going over the day’s program and broadcast schedule. Belinda believed Lance had changed or they wouldn’t be engaged, but Portia was a profound believer that he’d bleached his spots.
But for once, she and Belinda seemed to be in agreement. Nathaniel and Sydney looked too chummy. Some of the members were openly staring. Belinda signaled for Portia to sit next to her and she gladly moved.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Belinda grabbed Portia’s arm.
She shrugged her hand off. They weren’t that cool. “Yes, I am.” Portia stared at Nathaniel. She sniffed. “He needs to stay away from her.”
Belinda gave her a knowing glance. “Are you sweet on him? Why don’t you make a play for him?”
“I’m not sweet on Nathaniel Lyons. He’s too arrogant and cocky for my tastes. I’m just concerned about my friend getting caught up in something.”
“Hmm, hmm,” Belinda smiled.
Sydney and Nathaniel moved to sit together in the front row. She observed Noah’s awkward wave toward his wife. Nathaniel put his arm behind Sydney’s head.
“This doesn’t look good. Something has to be done,” Portia stated.
“Yup. I don’t like the fact that my best friend is soaking up Nathaniel’s attention.” She pointed. “Look at Noah’s face. He saw them.”
Portia slapped at her hand. “Stop pointing. Noah’s the cause of all this.” Portia’s loyalty surfaced. She dropped her voice when several people looked in their direction. The music began to play, signaling the service was about to begin.
Sydney turned and spotted them. She gave them a wave and a thumbs-up sign, then turned to continue her discussion with Nathaniel.
The two women settled themselves in the pew several rows behind so they could watch every move of the occupants a few rows before them. “We’ll meet up later,” Belinda promised.
“Come to my house,” Portia heard herself say. She rolled her eyes. Now, what did she go and do that for? She folded her arms. She couldn’t take it back now. Portia went into her Coach sack, took out a Post-It note and quickly scribbled her address. She handed it to Belinda.
“Four o’clock?”
“Be on time.” Portia warned. She hated tardiness and Belinda was notorious for being late to everything.
“For sure.”
She was forty-five minutes late. Forty-five. Portia opened the door with her arms folded. “Give me one good reason why I should let you in?”
“I brought this.” Belinda held up a DQ bag.
“There’d better be a caramel sundae in there,” Portia said, before moving aside to let Belinda into her home.
Belinda set the bags on the kitchen counter and scanned Portia’s apartment. Portia lifted her chin. Her place was small, but it was tight. It was decorated in light floral tones and wicker furniture.
Portia waved her hands, indicating Belinda should take a look around.
Belinda didn’t need a second invitation. Portia heard doors open and close. She knew Belinda was a wannabe designer so Portia didn’t mind.
“Your place is nice and cozy.” Belinda returned to the living area. “I was expecting to see artifacts from Spencer’s gifts and some crazy color schemes, but this is tastefully done. I like your brown and green color scheme.”
“Thanks. I inherited this place and everything in it from the former tenant. Well, everything except my bed. I like it here, but I hope to move out in a couple years.”
Belinda took the ice cream sundaes out of the bag and handed Portia a caramel-nut sundae.
“How did you know?”
“I know things,” Belinda smiled. She took a bite of her fudge-filled warm brownie sundae. “I shouldn’t be eating this with a wedding coming up. If I can’t fit my dress, I’m going to morph into a Bridezilla.”
Portia nodded. “I can see that happening.”
Belinda glared. “I’m a size six. I’ll have no problem fitting my dress. Thank you very much.”
Portia pursed her lips. She held her tongue. Who she fooling? If Belinda is a six, I’m a negative two. “So, what are we going to do about Sydney?” She walked over to sit at her small dinette.
“I don’t know.” Belinda joined her. “Do you think Sydney has a crush on Nathaniel? Like a rebound thing?”
Portia tapped her chin. “No, I think she’s going through a lot and Nathaniel is a shoulder to lean on.”
“Well, she’s got God and Noah for that,” Belinda countered.
“I hate to agree, but I do.”
“I think we need a ‘friendtervention.’ We need to confront Sydney and Noah and force them to actually talk to each other.” Belinda spoke rapidly. Her eyes flashed. “We could get Lance involved…”
Portia wasn’t too sure if she liked Belinda’s harebrained scheme. “I say we just confront Nathaniel instead.”
At the mention of Nathaniel, Belinda eyed her. “He’s a hunk. If I worked with him everyday like you do, I’d be too distracted to work.”
Portia wasn’t about to admit that she was indeed distracted. Instead, she bragged, “Well, I have no such problem. I get my work done and I’m all business. Nathaniel is just like any other man, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I know hogwash when I hear it. But…” Belinda lifted a hand. “I’ll let it go.” She ate a spoonful of her sundae. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Portia used her spoon to scrape the remnants of her sundae. She licked her spoon. “Go ahead.”
“I wanted to ask for your help with my wedding.”
Portia raised an eyebrow.
“I know that’s an, ‘are you crazy’ look. But, I’m desperate. Or trust me, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“You have a lot of gall. You know that?”
“I know, but I need your help,” she pleaded.
Portia read the panic on Belinda’s olive face. Her heart won out. She sagged her shoulders. “I know I’ll regret this, but okay. What have you gotten done?”
“Ah…” Belinda couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Are you serious? You haven’t done anything, have you?” Portia accused. “When is your wedding?”
“September. I have a lot of ideas, but I haven’t put anything together.” Belinda raked her hands through her now shoulder-length hair. She had cut it in a bob and dyed it red months ago, but was letting it grow out.
“Do you realize September is mere months away?” Portia stood. “If you want my help, you’re going to have to push the date back. I’m not a miracle worker.”
Belinda shook her head. “Lance would kill me if I postponed. He’s eager to… well, you know.” She blushed. “So, I have to go with September. I have to find a venue, find a wedding dress…”
“This is Sydney and Noah all over again.” Portia moaned. But she loved planning and organizing. It felt good to see a plan come together.
“I know and look how well that turned out. If anybody can do it, you can. I’ve no problem paying for your services. If it weren’t for Monica and her crazy antics, I would be on track.”
“Hold up?” Portia’s ears itched. This was a juicy piece of gossip. “Wasn’t Monica the one Lance ran off with right before Sydney’s wedding?”
“Yes.” Belinda lowered her head. She shared all the strange incidences she and Lance had experienced.
When she was done, Portia’s mouth hung open, “Wow. This sounds like something off Criminal Minds.”
“I haven’t seen her, but I know it’s her.”
Portia made up her mind. “
I’ll help you. No one is going to ruin your day. Not Monica or anyone else for that matter.”
Portia spoke confidently, but she was oh so wrong.
21
It was time. He had to do it.
Lance had stared at the phone in his office for fifteen minutes. Might as well get it over with. He picked up the phone off the cradle and punched in the digits to his father’s private line. He was tempted to hang up, but his father answered on the second ring.
“Lance, how good to hear from you.”
Hearing Clarendon’s voice made his stomach clench. “Hello, Clarendon. Wish I could say the same.” Lance already regretted the call, but he needed to find out if there was any credence to Belinda’s suspicion. He needed to know if Monica was the culprit behind all the weird occurrences of the past few months.
He heard a cackle on the other end. He knew nothing shook Monty Clarendon. Well, except once…
“So, what did I do to earn the pleasure of your call? Have you decided to take your rightful spot next to me?”
Clarendon had nerves of titanium. Lance battled the temptation to cut the call. Only the fright on Belinda’s face urged him on. “Let me get to the point. I’m calling to find out if you know a Monica Riley?”
“Monica? Oh, yes, she was my personal chef.”
Lance heard the underlying question in his father’s tone but zoned in on one key word. “Was? As in she just doesn’t work for you anymore?”
“No, sometime last October, she suddenly resigned and left. I’ve no idea where she is. But, why the sudden interest?”
Lance’s temper snapped. “Cut the act. I’m not buying whatever you’re selling. I’m sure you knew when you hired her she was an ex—” Lance stopped. He couldn’t quite call what he and Monica shared a relationship. “An ex fling,” he supplied.
“Yes, I did. But that had nothing to do with her special skills.”
Lance didn’t know how to react to that double entendre. Was his father intimating that he and Monica were…? He shook his head. He wasn’t even going there. “Spare me the details. Do you have any idea where she is now?”
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