Lie to Me
Page 13
“Noah?” Portia quizzed. “Is Sydney okay?”
He could hear the anxiety in her tone and felt a twinge of doubt, but pressed on. “Sydney is fine.” Naturally, Portia would assume that. Noah had no other reason to call, unless it involved Sydney.
He cleared his throat. “I’m actually calling to speak with you. Can we meet for lunch today? My treat.” Noah wasn’t prepared for the silence that followed. He wiped his brow. He had no clue what was going through her mind. He admitted he was slightly scared of her.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But, Noah wasn’t about to give up. “Portia, God is guiding me. I have to follow His leading, which is why I really need to talk with you.”
The Spirit rebuked him. Noah shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but he didn’t take back his words.
I’m also trying to win a soul. He wasn’t doing this just for himself. Noah pushed the feeling aside. It would all work out in the end, therefore justifying the means.
He added, “It’s about Sydney.”
“Sydney? Well, why didn’t you say so? Pick me up at 12:30 sharp.”
Noah heard the dial tone and looked at his phone. She didn’t even say goodbye. He shook his head. If he knew Portia, she was juggling a million and one tasks.
Noah thought about his plan. His conscience prodded at him. He was doing her a favor. Nathaniel would calm Portia down. When Nathaniel was done smoothing out those thorns…Portia would probably thank him. He smiled, picturing her response.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Noah leaned forward. He wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He had taken her to Prime and after lunch, brought up his proposal. Why wasn’t she intrigued? He eyed Portia. She looked tortured instead of tempted. “What’s wrong with Nathaniel? He has it all. What more could a woman want?”
Portia frowned. “I don’t like subterfuge.” She wiped her mouth. “I do appreciate the expensive lunch and it’s nice that we could have a few laughs. But, you ruined it by trying to set me up.”
Noah felt his face flame. He bent his head and gulped. “I need you to do this. I need you to distract Nathaniel for me. I need you to shift his mind away from Sydney.”
“Sydney? So, that’s what this is about…” Portia trailed off. He could tell by the glint in her eye that Portia was intrigued.
“Yes, I think…” Noah stopped, afraid to voice his true feelings.
Portia fiddled with her cutlery and took a sip of water. All telltale signs she felt ill at ease.
Noah looked at her. “I’m sorry I asked. I shouldn’t involve you in a sham because of my twisted over imagination.”
Portia tapped her fork on the table and looked at him.
“Forget I even mentioned it.” He motioned to Portia with a dismissive wave. He was halfway out of his seat when he noticed Portia motioning for him to sit back down. He complied.
“You’re more astute than I give you credit for,” Portia said in a low voice. She leaned forward. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this because I love Sydney, and you know how I feel about my friend. But I’m concerned as well. I see her with Nathaniel. And, she is…different. I’m not the only one. Belinda sees it, too.”
Noah was floored. Portia had taken his side, which could only mean one thing. She was worried about Sydney.
Noah found himself rushing to Sydney’s defense. No matter what he thought, he didn’t want Portia and Belinda forming the wrong impression about his wife. “Sydney and I spoke and we’re pretty much past it. I think it was our position on the pregnancy that made Nathaniel appealing. I was a total jerk about it, so I’m partially at fault. I was trying to fix her infatuation by—”
“Sending me into the Lyon’s den?” Portia supplied.
Noah relaxed his shoulders and laughed. “You sure have a way with words.” He extended a hand. “Can we chalk this embarrassing stunt of mine to poor judgment? It’s childish and I know the right thing to do. I’m going to pray and leave it in God’s hands.”
Portia shook his hand and Noah ushered her out of the restaurant.
Once they were in his car, Portia said, “I do like Nathaniel. In fact, I like him a lot.”
“Really?” Noah faced her. He rubbed his chin. Maybe…
“But, I couldn’t date him. Nathaniel is too much into church for me. I like to have fun. He reads his Bible for fun. Sometimes I hear him praying in his office.” She shrugged. “I have nothing in common with him.”
Pastor Noah Charleston was back. “The devil has fed the world a big lie. Serving Jesus is fun. It’s joyful, and it’s freeing. When you live by God’s word, it gives you a sense of freedom words can’t describe.” He backed out of the parking space.
“It seems to be more about what you can’t do. Even the Ten Commandments are filled with nots.” She shook her head. “Is there anything I can do? I’m way too young to be confined. I like having a choice.”
He gripped the steering wheel and pulled back into the parking space. “You do have a choice. You have the freedom to make the biggest and best decision of your life,” Noah gently explained.
Portia squirmed. Noah grabbed her arm and gave it a light squeeze. “I know I didn’t have the best intentions when I asked to meet with you today, but God can turn it into good and use it for His purpose. I won’t preach at you, but think about what I’ve said.”
She nodded. “Can you explain one thing to me? Why is it the people you expect to be an example are so…”
“Human?” Noah smiled. “I know you’ve seen me demonstrate a significant lack of faith when it comes to my unborn child and my marriage. But I’m human. I’m not God. I make mistakes. But, I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that you can trust God. He never fails.”
Noah reversed and drove her back to the law office. Once he arrived, Portia opened the door and whispered, “Thanks for the lunch. And, Noah?”
He raised a brow. “Yes?”
“You need to take your own advice.”
When the door slammed, Noah’s body jerked like she’d hit him in the face. His plan had backfired and God had shown him up. He did need to take his own advice and trust God. Noah could only hope he hadn’t jumbled things with Portia. He felt ashamed he might have caused her to see Christianity in a negative light.
Noah lowered his head on the steering wheel and prayed, “Lord, give me a chance to set things right.”
32
Why hadn’t Lance called?
Five weeks had passed since Monica bared herself, literally and figuratively. All to no avail. She chewed on her bottom lip. Could she be wrong about Lance?
As quickly as the thought entered, Monica dismissed it. She went over to the mirror in her bedroom. She was still as fine as ever. Lance had loved her once. He still loved her. She knew it. Otherwise, he would’ve reported her to the cops when she’d broken into… no, surprised him in his home.
Monica clenched her fists. “Ugh, if Belinda hadn’t interrupted…” They’d be engaged by now. She was sure of it. “The devil always has to get all up in God’s business.”
She crooked her head and pressed her lips together. What should she do? The crisp night air gave her goose bumps. Scantily clad in a barely there white camisole, Monica shivered and got under her covers. She leaned against the headboard. She should put on her pajamas but couldn’t chance this being the night Lance dropped by. Monica wasn’t about to be caught unaware like one of the foolish virgins. Cause she was no virgin, and she definitely wasn’t foolish.
Monica slapped her right thigh and giggled. A thought flashed across her mind. She jumped out of her bed and sauntered into the walk-in closet to look inside her sneakers. Pulling out a small strip of paper, Monica sat back on her heels and sighed. “That explains it!”
She had forgotten to leave the tiny paper with her contact information. She shook her head. How was Lance supposed to find her if he didn’t have her info? Maybe she was just a little foolish after all.
Monica jumped to a stand
ing position in one fluid motion. She held onto the miniscule paper but raced back to the warmth of her plush comforter. The temperature was in the low seventies, which was sweater weather for Floridians.
She tapped the bridge of her nose. She needed to get Lance her contact information so he could get in touch with her. She had been too accommodating where he was concerned. It was time Lance did the chasing. She lifted her head upward. “Lord, show me a way please. I need to get this number to him.”
Monica looked up at the ceiling. At the moment, God wasn’t speaking to her. She needed His insight. “Please, Lord, I need Your help. I’ve got to get Lance back.”
It will come to me. I just have to be patient. Monica closed her eyes and became entranced as images filled her mind. She nodded. “Yes... I see... I do.”
Monica got out of bed and opened Lance’s Bible. She flipped the pages and read the entire books of I and II Samuel. She read about David and how he had been anointed to be king. Yet, he had to fight Saul’s men—the Philistines, the Amalekites—because he had so many enemies. But, David faced them; knowing God would keep his promise.
With a satisfied sigh, Monica closed the Bible. “I see it, Lord. I know what I have to do. I receive Your words.” Lance was promised to her. Yet, like David, she had many enemies and obstacles—well, mainly one— to overcome before their union became a reality. She straightened. She was up for the challenge and wouldn’t be defeated.
With renewed purpose, Monica considered a new course of action.
Wednesday night, she pulled into the church parking lot. She looked around for Lance’s car. It was parked in one of the designated ministers’ spots. With a smile, she pulled in next to his car.
Monica strutted inside with the confidence of a woman who knew she had it going on. She sashayed down the aisle and sat on the front row. Lance was leading the study. She felt his eyes on her as she approached. Monica winked at him. Then, she checked to see if Belinda was in attendance. When she didn’t see her, Monica knew that was confirmation.
Lance looked her way. She licked her lips. He cut his eyes and turned away.
Twenty minutes flew by. Yet, Lance ignored her.
Monica bit her lip to keep from yelling aloud. Lance was playing hardball. Well, look at my poker face. She kept her gaze pinned on Lance until he made eye contact. Monica opened her legs. Her black mini skirt rode higher up her thighs. She knew she’d gotten to him, when he tripped over his words and pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket to wipe his face.
She glanced behind her. The deacons were in the back of the church. The second row was empty. Everyone else was either dozing or writing notes. She was good to go. She widened her legs. Inch by inch. She waited...and waited.
Look. Look. She silently pleaded. Monica looked around, starting to sweat a little under her armpits. Her luck would run out, if he didn’t—
Ah... He looked. Finally.
Lance’s eyes widened at her actions in the house of God. But, Monica was being led by a higher being. She snapped her legs closed because she was a lady. It wasn’t every day she entered the house of God sans undergarments. She puffed her chest. She had one more thing to do.
Monica made sure she waited for Lance to glance her way. Once he did, she pretended to adjust her bra strap and pulled out the scrap of paper. She rested it on the seat next to her.
Mission accomplished. She knew Lance saw her place it there. She knew he was curious. She gave him a wink.
Monica turned her head to look at the clock behind her. It was 8:25. Lance would be wrapping up in five minutes. It was now or never.
Lance walked around the mini podium to stand five feet from her. She saw him eyeing the paper from the corner of his eye. She had him exactly where she wanted.
He led the congregation in a closing prayer. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the paper in his direction and exited the premises.
Monica swayed her body and flailed her arms in the air. “It’s in your hands now, Lance.”
The next thing she knew, she got a phone call from Pastor Charleston’s secretary, Sister Alma. He wanted to meet with her the next day at 1:00 p.m.
Monica agreed, but her heart pounded in her chest. She dragged her hands through her hair. Had Lance ratted her out?
He wouldn’t.
He did.
She felt distinctly uncomfortable being the subject of the pastor’s icy blue stare. She arrived fifteen minutes earlier, but had to wait for the appointed time. She swung her legs and flicked a piece of imaginary lint off her pantsuit while Pastor stared her down. She had gotten up early to wash and curl her hair, so it glistened. Her carefully applied makeup made her appear well polished, and nothing like the woman Lance must have painted to the pastor.
Monica knew her cheeks were fire red. She fanned herself with her hand though the A.C. ran.
What seemed so tantalizing before now made her feel cheap. She second-guessed her actions. But, Monica wasn’t about to do any confessing. If it was one thing she knew, it was that she would only to fess up to what was proven. Nothing less and nothing more. Never mind that God knew. She was infinitely more worried about Pastor who hadn’t said a word.
Sister Alma entered the room and closed the door. Monica straightened.
He didn’t want to be alone with her. She felt like she was in the doctor’s office. But, she supposed she could see his side of things. Lance must have made her seem deranged.
“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” Pastor Charleston said with a smile. Monica noticed it didn’t reach his eyes, but she nodded.
“I see from our visitor’s roster you’ve been here a few times,” the pastor said.
She gave another nod. What’s the matter with you? Say something. “Uhm. I really enjoy the services here.” Monica relaxed her shoulders. Maybe it was all just her imagination. Maybe Lance hadn’t said anything. This could all be a coincidence.
“Brother Lance Forbes called me because he was alarmed about something you did last night. Care to enlighten me?”
Monica sunk low in her chair. She’d lost her voice, so she shook her head.
“Brother Lance informed me you came into the sanctuary, sat on the front row, and showed him your—”
“I didn’t.” Monica protested, cutting him off. She glanced at Sister Alma, who gave her a disapproving stare. Monica cleared her throat. “Whatever he’s accusing me off, it’s not true.”
“Brother Lance also said you previously defaced his ex-fiancé’s car and that you plastered his house with baby poop.”
She bit her lip. He can’t prove that. Think. Think. She shook her head. “I don’t know why Lance has it in for me.” Monica licked her lips. She saw Noah watch her movements. He’d raised an eyebrow. Maybe he was interested?
She curved her body in a suggestive pose and said, “It’s no secret I broke things off with him. Now, he wants me to pay.” Genius. She’d slightly amended the truth, but Monica felt confident Pastor Charleston would see things her way.
She didn’t realize she was dealing with a man of God who had the spirit of discernment. “Ms. Riley, I know you did those things. You’re also responsible for Lance and Belinda’s breakup. I also know you showed up in his bed unannounced.”
She couldn’t deny that one. There were two witnesses. She scrunched her nose. Lance and Belinda had broken up? When? Monica pressed her lips together to keep from shouting with joy.
God was in charge. Now, all she had to do was wiggle her way out of this one.
She stood and folded her arms. “I don’t have to take this. If Lance believed I did those horrible things, he should’ve called the police. I’m leaving. I’m not even a member here.”
“Sit down,” Pastor Charleston commanded.
Monica did as she was told. Goosebumps rose on her flesh.
“You need spiritual help. You’re being led by an evil spirit, Ms. Riley.” Monica’s eyes narrowed. Say what? The pastor had some nerve making such
a boldfaced comment.
“I thought you were a man of God?” Monica accused. “I’m being led by God. He has been directing my path. I read my Bible and I pray. I don’t hear voices. I’m not crazy.” Her voice escalated. At the moment, she did indeed sound crazy. She released a plume of air and willed herself to keep calm.
“The devil knows the Bible, Ms. Riley. You’re letting him control you, and you need deliverance. What you feel for Lance is not love. It’s harmful and you need to surrender.”
How dare he? Monica felt trapped. She wrapped her arms about her. She had to get out of here. There was nothing wrong with her.
“The fact that you would come into the house of God and do something so disrespectful is further indication that you’re not in your right mind.”
No one had ever spoken to her like this before. Monica hit her chest. “I’m normal. I’m not crazy.”
Pastor Charleston didn’t respond, but she saw his facial expression. Crazy people didn’t think they were crazy.
Suddenly, Clarendon’s words came back to her. “Just infiltrate Lance’s life. Get in—and then,” he laughed, “just be you.”
She gritted her teeth. That comment still rankled. Clarendon thought she was crazy. And from his patronizing tone, Pastor did too. Well, she had had enough of everyone treating her like she was some lunatic. Time to turn the tables.
She lifted her chin. “Pastor, I didn’t expect to be accused of things I didn’t do. I would expect better from a man who preaches and teaches from God’s word.”
Sister Alma closed her eyes and said, “Have mercy, Lord.”
Pastor opened one of the drawers by his desk and took out a small vial of olive oil. Monica leaned back. What was he going to do with that?
“Pastor and I would like to pray with you, dear,” Sister Alma said.
No way... I don’t want their prayers. They can keep that... What could she do? They had her cornered. Pastor Charleston came over and lightly anointed her head. They joined hands around her. Monica felt caged in. She twisted in her seat. The door was right behind her. Pastor Charleston laid his hand on her forehead and called on the name of Jesus. Her body shook. She moaned and squinted. What is happening to me?