Tell Me Lies

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  Noah lifted a brow. “How much is it?”

  “Two thousand and counting,” Deacon Brown chimed in.

  Noah waved his hands. “I’m sorry to disappoint them, but I do have someone.” He hoped.

  “Great,” Deacon Hibbert said. “You need a wife. When will we meet her?”

  When he convinced Sydney to go out with him. “Soon,” Noah said. “Now, can we change the subject?”

  The deacons were more than happy to talk about expenses and the program for that Saturday. Noah shared his vision for evangelism and the deacons were excited to stand with him.

  By the time Noah left, all the deacons had an assignment. His mind wandered back to the bet. He shook his head. Noah was going to find out the names of all the women involved in the bet and put them to work.

  Swinging his personal set of church keys in his hands, Noah entered his car wearing a cloak of confidence. As soon as he was inside, his demeanor changed. Noah lowered his head on the steering wheel and exhaled. Relief seeped through his spine. When Deacon Shaw mentioned a problem, he thought … his hands had been shaking.

  Like everyone, Noah had a past. One he had buried at the cross and intended to leave there. Jesus had paid it all and he’d grab hold onto that.

  Noah sat up and started up the car. But as he backed out of his new church home, he felt a niggling unease. He wondered if he’d passed on an opportunity to tell the whole truth.

  Then he shook his head. The truth was he was broken. Key word being was, as in not anymore.

  3

  Noah pulled into Sydney’s complex promptly at six. He parked in the designated guest parking area and ran up to Sydney’s condo. He pressed the doorbell.

  When Sydney opened the door, Noah’s breath caught. She was dressed in a red wrap-around dress and a red, strappy string that constituted footwear. Noah swallowed. His chest puffed with pride at the thought of going anywhere with such a beautiful woman on his arm.

  “Hello, Pastor.” Sydney greeted him from under her lashes.

  “Wow.” Noah found his voice. “Stunning is not enough for how good you look. And please, call me, Noah.”

  A faint blush stained her cheeks. “Thanks, Noah.” It was intoxicating watching her touch her face and hide a smile behind her hand.

  Sydney pointed to his jeans. “You look good.”

  Noah caught her look of feminine appreciation. He wore a pair of indigo washed jeans and a form-fitting, black shirt with a matching dinner jacket.

  With a light hold on the back of her shoulders, Noah guided Sydney to his vehicle and helped her inside. “Since this is your hometown, where do you recommend we go?”

  She tilted her chin. “There’s Torch in Punta Gorda. I’ve been meaning to go there, but haven’t gotten the chance. I’ve heard good things about the service and the food. We can go there. I’ll tell you where to go. Just start by going back onto—”

  “41?” he interrupted.

  Sydney laughed. “How did you know?”

  “Everything’s off 41. The mall. The post office. I mean, everything.”

  “You’re so right.” She grinned. “What do you expect from a small town?”

  Sydney directed him over the bridge and into Punta Gorda. He pulled off 41 and into Torch, admiring the fake fire logo used for the letter “O.” Their hostess greeted them and seated them in the rear. Noah sniffed, enjoying the delicious smells. He ordered the honey glazed, pecan salmon and Sydney chose the Thai coconut curry chicken. They both ordered waters, his with lemon, and hers without. There was a birthday party going on one side of the room.

  While they waited for their meal, their conversation drifted to the case.

  “I’m sorry you lost your case,” Noah said.

  Sydney shrugged. “Manny Smithson was guilty of fraud. I’m glad he was discovered. The sad part is that I believed him.”

  When Sydney took a sip of water, Noah said, “I thought you were really professional. Once you learned the truth, you handled the rest of the proceedings with grace. I was impressed.”

  “Sam Witherspoon did his research. But so did Curtis, the associate on the case. Only difference is, Curtis neglected to tell me Manny had pulled the same scam in your hometown.”

  “He sure did,” Noah said. “Manny Smithson had ‘fallen’ outside Shiloh Baptist Center and as the officiating pastor, I pushed the board to pay out the maximum amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I gave the documentation to Witherspoon. I was glad to make the flight to put an end to Manny’s deceit.”

  “I hated losing, but at the same time, I’m glad the truth came out,” she admitted, lowering her eyes.

  Noah placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head. He waited for Sydney to meet his eyes. “You’re human. You were dealing with a professional con man. God knew it and He exposed Manny once and for all.”

  “I’d never have taken his case had I known,” Sydney said.

  “Isn’t that a part of the job? Being a lawyer means you’ll sometimes have to defend a guilty person.”

  “Not in my line of work. I’m not a criminal attorney. I expect my clients to tell me the truth.”

  Noah was impressed with Sydney’s standards. She valued honesty and in his line of work, Noah needed that in a potential partner. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but there was something … intriguing about her.

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “I’m not … seeing anyone,” Sydney replied in a low voice. She lifted her chin. Noah noted a hint of reservation in her eyes before she asked, “Have you ever dated a black woman?”

  Noah shook his head. “This is a first for me, but can I say when I look at you I don’t see color. I just see a vibrant, smart, attractive woman.”

  She blushed. “Thank you for being honest. I’ve never dated outside my race, either.”

  The last thing he wanted to talk about was race. He waved a hand. “Putting race aside, are you interested?”

  She folded her arms. “Interesting comment. Putting race aside. That’s impossible in my world. Black Lives Matter. Black women are dying in jail. We’re on the brink of a civil war and yet, you sit there and ask me to put race aside.”

  “Whoa, I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t trying to be glib,” Noah said, treading carefully. The air between them suddenly became tense and thick. “I know what’s going on. Believe me, I know way more than I want to all about misconceptions between the races and the irrevocable damage it can cause. But I’m still a man and you’re a woman and there is a spark between us. Or, did I imagine that look in the elevator?”

  She made a visible effort to relax. “I … I didn’t realize you had picked up on … I do find you attractive.” She faced him. “And I’m not trying to live up to the stereotype of the angry, black woman. But I hope to be a mother one day and I can’t help but be afraid of all these young, black men dying.”

  He thought of his parents and lowered his voice. “I know about dying.”

  Sydney didn’t appear to register his words. She released a plume of air. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “I do understand.” He emphasized his words. When Noah saw he held her attention, he said, “Three black youths killed my parents.”

  She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my, goodness. That’s horrible. How old were you?”

  Noah jutted his jaw. “Fourteen, and it was a carjacking gone wrong. I tried to save them…I became angry… I did some things…” He wiped his forehead. “I didn’t expect things to get this serious on our first date.”

  She patted his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I feel like I’ve ruined our evening. I don’t even know how we got here.” She squared her shoulders and shifted the conversation. “I’m flattered you’re interested, but if I did have time for dating, I wouldn’t do the long distance thing. I could barely handle past relationships I’ve had right here. So I can’t imagine trying to date someone who lives all the way in Texas.”

 
He pushed his past from his mind and brushed his hand across hers briefly. “I totally agree with you. So I’d better share my good news. I’ve accepted a position at Beulah Deliverance Center here in Port Charlotte. My official start date will be the day after Independence Day. Beulah’s pastor retired, if there’s such a thing, to take care of his wife who has early onset dementia. I’ll be moving in with my grandfather until I find my own place.”

  “You’re the new pastor at Beulah?” Her eyes were wide. “Small world. I was a member there. I haven’t gone there since… Actually, I haven’t attended anywhere regularly as I’ve been working nonstop trying to make partner. I visit different churches from time to time.”

  “You have to give God what’s His,” Noah said.

  “I send Beulah my tithes, I just haven’t gone in …” she ran her hands through her hair and gave an awkward chuckle. “… Like a year?”

  “I don’t want to lecture you on our first date, but God doesn’t want your money. He wants you. Your time.”

  “I attend online services as well.”

  “It’s not the same as in person. I’d love to see you in the pews.”

  She nodded. “I’ll think about it. It hasn’t been the same since Lance and I—” She took a sip of water swallowing the rest of her words. The glass almost slipped through her fingers. She caught it, but some off the water splashed out. “I’m so clumsy.” She grabbed a napkin to wipe the liquid off her chin and dress.

  Noah didn’t press her about what she’d almost said. She seemed uncomfortable. “I know I’m a bit forward, but you’re beautiful,” Noah said, changing direction. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

  Sydney placed the crushed napkin on the table. “The truth is, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to date. I … was in …” She trailed off.

  “A bad relationship?”

  She nodded. “Bad is saying it mildly.”

  Noah reached across and took her hand. “I won’t push, but not all relationships end badly. I’m a patient man. Patience is a skill I’ve learned. I can wait for you to change your mind.”

  Her face softened. “I don’t know …”

  “Relax. Getting to know someone isn’t going down the aisle. Let’s see where this goes. Take things slow.”

  Their waitress came up to their table. “Can I get you something from our dessert selection?”

  Sydney patted her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

  He looked at the waitress. “We’ll get the check then, thanks.” When she went to print their bill, Noah dropped his voice. “I’m not ready for tonight to end.”

  They both glanced at their watches. It was only eight o’clock. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Sydney perked up. “We could go to Gilchrist Park. It’s by the water and breathtaking at night. Also since it’s Thursday, they usually have Waterfront Jam sessions in the gazebo.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They left the restaurant and in less than ten minutes, he was pulling into the park. Noah opened the door and took Sydney’s hand. He heard the music playing in the background. They walked the path and Noah took in the scene before him. Couples swayed to the music. Some people had brought chairs, which they set up on the grass all around the gazebo. He and Sydney stopped to enjoy the band.

  He splayed his hands wide. “Florida is so picturesque at night.”

  “Let’s walk the rest of the path,” Sydney said.

  Noah reached for her hand again. He felt her tense, but Noah kept his hold. He loved the feel of her smaller hand cupped in his own.

  “Look at the night sky.” She withdrew her hand from his to point upward. Noah knew it was her way of putting distance between them.

  Noah felt the loss, but he didn’t push. He and Sydney stopped at the water’s edge.

  “What a sign of God’s majesty.” He eyed the calm water. “The water lapping against the shore soothes me.”

  “I come here and have lunch sometimes. Just me and God,” Sydney said.

  Noah shifted so he stood behind her. He dug for his cell phone and pulled up the camera app. “I want to capture this moment.”

  A passerby saw him, and asked, “Do you want me to take a picture?”

  “Thanks.” Noah adjusted the setting to nighttime mode and handed the young woman his phone.

  She snapped a couple of pictures.

  Noah thanked the young woman and showed Sydney the photos.

  Sydney nodded. “Send them to me.”

  “This will be our first moment of many.”

  ***

  “Besides you going ballistic on the white man, it sounds like you had a romantic evening.” Belinda mooned over the pictures of Sydney and Noah.

  The two women had met up at the Wood Street Grill, near the courthouse, for an emergency lunch meeting to rehash Sydney’s date.

  Sydney blushed. “I do feel bad about that, but once we got past it, I enjoyed myself. He said something about his past though that had me thinking. I’m wondering if I should dig into his background…”

  “Don’t you dare,” Belinda said. “Let him tell you more when he’s ready. You don’t have to be a lawyer all the time. Be carefree for once in your life and jump in. Get back on that saddle and ride that pony.”

  Sydney raised a brow.

  “Okay, so no riding for you, but quit being so suspicious and give the man a chance.”

  “But if you heard what he told me—”

  Belinda held up a hand. “Nope. Don’t tell me. I only want to know if you’re going to see him again?”

  “But—”

  “Answer the question,” she demanded.

  Sydney’s mind had one answer. Her heart had another. “I … I’m not sure. It’s … complicated.”

  “You sound like a fur ball is stuck in your throat. A man does not ask that question to make conversation, especially a minister. He’s into you. You need to roll with it.”

  Sydney thought of Noah’s words, “The first of many.” How was she to fight against a man who had God’s ear?

  Sydney gave Belinda a meaningful glance. “He’s the new pastor at Beulah.”

  Belinda’s eyes widened. “Your old church? Where you and Lance were going to get married? That’s awkward.”

  Sydney nodded.

  Belinda touched Sydney’s palm. “I know you don’t want me to say this. What Lance did to you was heartless and cruel. But it’s time for you to return to Beulah. You were happy there. The fact that Noah is at Beulah is an added bonus.”

  Aaliyah’s song, “Dust Yourself Off and Try Again,” drifted through her mind.

  “Why would God want me to go back to the place where I had the most humiliating experience of my life?” Sydney asked. “I have my career, my house, my car. I don’t need a man to give me anything.”

  Belinda smirked. “How about a child? Can you get one of those on your own?”

  4

  Sydney walked into her firm and entered her office, having just returned from another long day in court. She appreciated the cool blast of air hitting her face. It was close to four p.m., but tell that to the sun. She strolled up to her legal secretary, Portia Campbell’s, desk.

  As usual, Portia chattered on the phone, but Sydney didn’t mind. Portia was amazingly efficient. She’d been a twenty-three-year-old college dropout when Sydney hired her. And four years later she had no regrets. Portia could type over 100 words per minute, error free; handle important clients; and complete paperwork – all while talking on the telephone. That’s why Sydney had promoted Portia from receptionist to legal secretary within months of hiring her. If only she could convince Portia to go back to school.

  “Any messages for me?” she asked the dark-skinned, Lupita Nyong’o look-alike.

  Portia nodded. “Let me call you back,” she said to the person on the other end of the line. She handed Sydney a couple messages.

  “Lance called about three times.”

  Sydney’s eyes narrowed. “What did he wa
nt?”

  “I didn’t ask any of those times and I didn’t bother taking a message.”

  “Good.” Sydney’s chest heaved up and down. Just hearing his name threw off her equilibrium.

  “A Noah Charleston also called.”

  At the mention of Noah’s name, Sydney strove to hide her smile, but failed. Portia lifted a brow. Sydney tilted her head toward her office.

  Portia stood and followed Sydney inside.

  “I met him about two weeks ago. We’ve gone out about four times,” Sydney said, dropping onto her leather chair and kicking off her heels. “I didn’t tell you because I had to be sure there would be something to tell.”

  “Well, obviously now there is.” Portia propped her hands on her hips. “So, tell me more.”

  “There isn’t much to say yet.” Sydney cleared her throat. “Is Curtis in? We’re supposed to meet this afternoon.”

  Portia rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Big Shot is here. He’s early. I confirmed you for four-thirty.”

  Sydney frowned. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

  “Because he thinks he’s all that and then some.” Portia raked fingernails painted with Jamaican flags through her purple streaked, spiked hair. Last month, it had been burgundy.

  The other attorneys in the firm had raised their eyebrows at Sydney’s decision to hire her, but within two months changed their minds. Portia confessed she’d declined two other offers to transfer to a more lucrative position. Sydney planned on making partner and rewarding Portia for her loyalty. After three years, they were more than coworkers. They were friends.

  “Curtis is smart and he has his eyes on you,” Sydney said.

  Portia groaned. “He can take several seats somewhere. I’m not interested. He’s an opportunist and he’s after your job.” She jutted her chin. “Now that we’ve got business out of the way, tell me about Noah Charleston. He called you two times, by the way.”

  Before Sydney could answer, Portia glanced at her watch and held up a hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  She returned holding takeout in one hand and Sydney’s dry cleaning in the other. Sydney didn’t know how Portia knew she hadn’t eaten or when Portia had picked up her dry cleaning, but after the exhausting day in court, she was grateful. Portia’s ability to meet her needs was downright creepy at times, but Sydney wouldn’t trade her for anyone.