Seasoned with Grace (20 page)

Grace reached for his yellow- and navy blue–striped tie, catching the triangular tip of it between her fingers. Her fingers inched up his tie until she was able to grasp it with the palm of her hand. “You don't understand.” Her cheeks tightened and fright filled her eyes as she yanked Ethan's tie and pulled him closer to her. “The Big Bad Wolf is coming for me.”

“Don't worry, Grace King. I'm going to protect you from the Big Bad Wolf.”

With one open eye and both ears fully tuned in, Grace eavesdropped from her couch, listening in on the powwow taking place in her kitchen. Ethan was playing commander in chief as he prepared to head into the office.

“Candace, Junell, come closer,” he said, wrangling them to his side. “I've been holed up here with you ladies all weekend, and now it's time for me to hit the office and do major damage control.”

“Damage control? Now, Ethan, don't you think you've waited a little too long for that?” Junell said. “Since you texted me, my phone's been ringing off the hook with calls from every outlet from TMZ to
E! News.
Javier and his people are way ahead of you.”

Ethan placed both of his hands on his hips like he was Superman and responded firmly to her. “Junell, I'm not going unless God sends me and tells me what to say. When Grace hires you as her publicist, you can tackle these mishaps any way that you would like. Now I've had enough time to meditate and hear from God just what it is I need to say to cover Grace.”

Grace wanted to clap her hands when she heard Ethan speak. He had returned to his senses and was back on her side.

“And what is that?” Junell asked, twisting her neck in what Grace could see was a failed attempt to bully Ethan into revealing what the Lord had spoken to him.

“Junell, I understand that's your best friend in there, but we're all concerned about Grace,” Ethan said.

“We're all concerned about Grace? Is that right?” Junell sucked her teeth and turned her back slightly toward Candace. “No shade, but I know you've been treating my girl funny ever since you met ole girl over here, and I don't want to see G get hurt any more. I can't take this. I need her well and ready to spoil her goddaughter rotten when she pops out,” she said, rubbing her belly repeatedly.

“Believe me, Junell, Candace wouldn't be here if she didn't care,” Ethan said, grabbing Candace's hand. “What I need from the two of you is for y'all to work together to coax Grace into sharing what the real problem is. Something happened to trigger all this drinking. She was ready to give her life to Christ the other day, and now she wants to be the worm in a tequila bottle. The only way her image and career can recover from this is by airing the truth, and I need y'all to get it out of her.”

“Not a problem, Ethan. I know how to talk to Grace,” Junell declared confidently. “Candace, you just keep on making soup.”

A small burst of laughter escaped out of Grace's mouth. She muffled it with fake coughs coupled with the phony hawking of spit. Junell sounded ridiculous trying to throw shade. After all these years of friendship, unfortunately, Junell hadn't learned how to sling mud properly.

“Candace,” Ethan said, looking at her, “before I leave, please cover this situation with a prayer.”

Candace sweetly shook her head. “Father God, right now we pray that you would intervene on behalf of Grace. Bring every truth to the light, Lord. Search the hearts and minds of everyone gathered here, and remove every ounce of pride that is preventing us from operating on one accord, in Jesus's name. Amen.”

Now, that is how you throw shade.
Grace popped up in appreciation of the art of throwing shade disguised as a prayer, something that Christians did so well.

Grace cocked her legs open and rested her forearms on them. “Ethan, isn't it time for you to hit the office? I'm sure these ladies are going to take good care of me.”

Ethan snatched his briefcase off the countertop and shoved his iPhone into his pocket. He squinted at her from across the room, and Grace could see the questions forming in his eyes.

“There's no time for you to examine me, Counselor. You promised to protect me,” Grace said, quashing his concerns about her miraculous recovery. He didn't need to know she'd been lying there listening in on their conversation.

“I will do just what I said I would do.” He pecked Candace on the forehead and waved good-bye to Junell and Grace before exiting.

The three of them stood there, looking at one another. Candace's right eye quivered a little as she looked at Junell. Junell smiled at Grace. Both women had been caught off guard by Grace's sudden awakening. She'd left them with no time to figure out how to attack her.

“You look good, Junie,” Grace said, admiring the sleeveless purple and gold Donna Karan wrap dress that clung to her body. “I didn't know that dress came in maternity sizes.”

“It doesn't. It came from your closet,” Junell said, laughing hysterically.

Her high-pitched chuckle was contagious and spread almost instantaneously to Candace, whose rosy cheeks were on fire as she bent over in laughter.

Grace threw the pillows she'd had her head buried in for the entire weekend at them. She narrowly missed Candace, who twisted out of the way like she was an extra in
The Matrix,
and smacked Junell right in the face. Still in a fit of laughter, Junell tossed the pillow back at her best friend.

“Glad you're feeling better,” Junell said.

“I'm not feeling better until I get some water on my behind,” Grace said, pressing her index finger into her glutes. “And some BB cream and concealer on this face. I feel like the bride of Frankenstein.”

“You look like her too,” Candace said, doubling over with laughter as Grace and Junell froze and looked at her.

“It's a little bit too early for you to be telling jokes,” Junell said, giving Candace a funny look.

“Calm down, killer,” Grace said to Junell as she walked over to them. She hadn't expected Junell's possessive nature to pop up when she was the one who had suggested Grace fix things between Candace and Ethan. “Candace is a good girl. You'll enjoy her if you give her a chance. I'm going upstairs to shower. You two make some coffee, polish your nails, or do something normal women do to bond.”

Grace recognized she was asking for a lot by trying to get Junell Pierce and the thirteenth apostle to act normally under the given circumstances. That really wasn't a possibility. Unless Jesus came down Himself and told Junell to stop acting like the first girl who got kicked out of the
Bad Girls Club
. Right now she was a little too anxious to prove how aggressive she was. Junell didn't like sharing her best friend and was always willing to whip out her claws when she thought Grace was in danger.

“Junie, why don't you see what you can find for Candace to put on? I'm going to die if I see her in another cardigan. And at least put a swab of lip gloss on that pucker of hers.” Grace shifted her weight to her left leg and twisted up her mouth as she looked Candace up and down. “What happened to everything you learned during our field trip to Bergdorf?”

“At least I've been keeping up my hair,” Candace said, shaking her bob from side to side like she was trying to land a spot in a shampoo commercial.

“Hair like that does not go with a knee-length black skirt and a black cardigan. Ugh! Let me shower up before I get sick.” Grace turned and headed up the steps. “I'm sure you'll find something that fits you if the pregnant girl did.”

 

 

When Grace returned from the shower, she was pleasantly surprised to find Candace perched on a stool at the island, dressed in a mustard-colored maxi that grazed the last rung of the stool and a scoop-neck white tee that showed off her clavicles and a trace of cleavage. Junell was seated right beside her, hugging Candace, with her hand pressed to her chest. Both of them were holding hands, staring at the screen of Junell's tablet.

“What's got you two singing ‘Kumbaya' over there?” Grace said from behind. “No one made me any coffee?” She walked around the island, looking for a third cup of something freshly brewed. Neither of them responded to her; only more bated breaths and chest clutching came from each of them.

“What is going on?” Grace asked.

Junell slowly curved her fingers back and forth, the way you did when a child was in trouble. Grace stood beside her, looked down at the tablet in her hands, and watched as a camera zoomed in on Javier Roberts's gaunt, ghoulish face before he said, “I cannot believe she's still not over me. I thought that having her in this film would be therapeutic for us both. This was supposed to be an opportunity for us to make the magic we made in her early days. I really thought this was a great opportunity for her to turn the page on a new chapter in her life and revive her career. People need to see each one of us in a new light.”

“Wh-who is he talking about?” Grace asked, pointing at the screen.

Junell pushed Grace's floating finger back to her side. “Hush. There's more.”

“What made you come to
Access Hollywood
today, Javier?”

“If I had done this to her . . . you know . . .” He rotated his hands in front of him. “You know, if I had made sexual advances toward her while no one was around, I'd probably be receiving death threats from her legion of fans. I could not let her just be whisked off of my film set, like she was some damsel in distress, because she decided to hit the bottle after I rejected her advances.”

“There you have it. An
Access Hollywood
exclusive. Supermodel Grace King returns to alcohol and storms off the set after her sexual advances are rejected by director Javier Roberts,” the reporter stated before going to a commercial.

“Allegedly!” Junell shouted. “Allegedly.”

“Who are they talking about?” Grace asked again, still mystified by the comments she had heard. She knew the reporter had said her name, but there was no way on earth that Javier was walking around telling people that she wanted to sleep with him, and that, after being rejected by him, she had resorted to drinking. “Who are they talking about?” she repeated, now shaking violently as she spoke.

“You.” Candace said innocently, giving voice to words that Junell didn't seem to have the courage to say to Grace.

Before anyone could stop her, Grace swung wildly at the counter, knocking over Junell's mug of tea and taking out her tablet. From there she ran to one of her cabinets, ripped the dishes from the shelves, and threw them on the floor. Each ornately decorated dish crashed to the floor and shattered into hundreds of pieces, mirroring what had become of Grace's life.

Candace and Junell pleaded with Grace to stop, but she could see only their lips moving. The rage inside of her spoke louder than they did. She went from shelf to shelf, pulling out glasses, bowls, and plates of fine china. They'd been reserved for special moments in her life. Now was as good a time as any to bring them out. With each toss of a dish, she thought about the last time she'd seen Javier's face, which was in the zigzagged fragments of broken glass in the mirror on her vanity in the trailer.

Grace stooped down and picked up one long sliver of china from the mess. Then she straightened and stood as erect as a soldier. “When I see him, this is what I'm going to do to him.” She swung her hand in the air haphazardly. Completely wrapped in a web of anger and shame, Grace didn't even notice that Candace had crept up behind her until she felt Candace's bicep lock around her neck. Her body stiffened like a board in Candace's arms. Candace forced Grace's body against the island in her kitchen and bent her over.

“Get that dagger of china out of her hand,” Candace said to Junell.

Grace lifted her head a few inches to see Junell standing in the center of the living room, crying and shaking.

“Come on! We need to get this dagger out of her hand. She's starting to bleed,” Candace shouted.

“I can't,” Junell squealed.

“You can.” Candace adjusted her stance and tightened her grip around Grace's neck. “Hurry up. I can't restrain her for much longer,” Candace added, struggling to hold Grace's hand containing the long sliver of china steady.

“How did you do that? You've got to teach me that move to use on the show,” Junell said. As Junell tiptoed toward Grace and her little belly entered Grace's field of vision, Grace opened the palm of her hand and let the sliver of china fall to the floor. Slow and steady droplets of blood followed the china and created a burgundy puddle.

“Just give me some paper towels,” Grace said once Candace released her from her death grip. Candace complied, and Grace snatched the paper towels from Candace's hand and wrapped them around her palm as a makeshift bandage. Next, Grace began to massage her sore neck. Stepping over all her broken dishes, Grace reached for the one glass she had not smashed, and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of a green container that had the word
sugar
embossed on it in black script.

“What are you doing, Grace?” Candace and Junell shouted at the same time.

“A time like this calls for a drink.
Shoot.
When did y'all become Oprah and Gayle?”

“This is not the time for any drinks. We need you sober if we're going to attack this thing head-on,” Junell said, stepping on the shards of dishes like there was nothing on the floor. She wrapped her arm around Grace's and led her to the couch.

“Javier's been on TV all morning, talking about you, but I know that's not true. I don't know what happened in that trailer, but I know you did not come on to him. If you're going to win this thing, then you're going to have to start talking and fast, Grace.”

“I can't.”

“You can,” Junell retorted.

“I can't,” Grace said, her voice cracking, signaling her tears would soon betray her and reveal the gravity of the situation.

“You can,” Candace chimed in.

“I won't,” Grace said as the tears streamed down her face.