Authors: Pat Simmons
Tags: #inspirational romance, #christian romance, #africanamerican romance, #homelessness in america, #redemption and forgiveness
She arrived at church and welcomed the hugs
and greetings of “Praise the Lord” as she quickly hurried to the
women’s lounge to change into her praise uniform.
“Hey, Tavie. Have you seen Landon?” Kai
dragged out his name, then capped it with a smile.
“I haven’t, but when I see him, I’ll tell him
you asked about him.”
That seemed to make Kai’s day as she beamed.
“Do that.”
Deb shoved her. “Girl, please. Find a man who
will at least iron his shirt.”
“Sisters, please,” Octavia jumped in. “As
Pastor Willis would say, ‘Let’s focus on Christ.’”
To be a part of any auxiliary at Jesus the
Shepherd Church, the pastor required members to represent Christ
completely in soul and spirit, and come to Him with a clean heart
when performing a service or sit out. He didn’t tolerate
foolishness when it came to God.
“You’re right,” the two agreed with Octavia,
then Deb led them in prayer before they joined the praise singers
in the sanctuary. “Lord, in the mighty name of Jesus, forgive us of
thoughts and deeds that don’t reflect You and sanctify our minds to
draw lost sheep to the Shepherd in Your holy name, Jesus.”
They mumbled their amens. They entered the
auditorium, swaying to the music. “His Majesty Is Here” was her
favorite song as she imagined King David dancing before the Lord
and the twenty-four elders bowing down and worshiping the Lamb as
described in the Book of Revelation.
Octavia inhaled the words when the song
alerted the congregation that the Majesty was in their presence. By
the time it ended, she was always blurry eyed and in awe. Back in
the changing room, she composed herself and slipped back into her
dress.
Deb joined her husband while Octavia and Kai
sat together whenever they praise danced. Pastor Willis made his
way to the podium to welcome guests and make a few announcements
before opening his Bible. “Let’s turn to Matthew 25.” He paused
while the congregation complied. “We’ve all heard the parable about
the ten virgins who knew the groom was coming but still weren’t
ready. Don’t let that happen on your watch. Whether you know or
don’t believe, Jesus is coming back. Consider this your public
service announcement. Be prepared with the Holy Ghost, which is the
oil mentioned in Matthew….” As he preached, there was a hush
throughout the sanctuary.
“The Lord is sending out warning signs. Is
your soul ready? We talk about being prepared for disasters, but
what about the great disaster that will destroy both body and soul
mentioned in Luke 12:5. God is soon to come in the blink of an eye,
or before our next breath.”
As Pastor Willis pleaded for souls to repent,
Octavia didn’t know when the sermon ended and the altar call began,
but she closed her Bible as dozens walked down the aisle for
prayer, baptism or to seek the Holy Ghost. This portion of the
service was always festive with celebration and high energy, and
Octavia never wanted it to end, but she had another engagement, so
after the offering and benediction, she and Kai hugged and said
their goodbyes.
She waved at Deb and her husband, Cedric, as
she crossed the parking lot. Her stomach growled as she slid behind
the wheel of her car and blasted the air. There would be light
refreshments at the upscale mixer that was by invitation only for
Million Dollar Club real estate agents and their guests. There
weren’t many African-American agents in attendance—sometimes by
choice, other times by exclusion.
Every year, Octavia always came up short in
home sales to make the achievement, but Terri, who had made the
Million Dollar Club countless times, tried to keep her in the loop
about these functions, which were pivotal in reaching that
goal.
Twenty minutes later, she checked her
appearance in the mirror and refreshed her lip gloss. Her ball was
still intact after her dance routine and the wrinkles to her simple
white dress were minimal. Taking a deep breath, she said a quick
prayer that God would open doors to get more business. Before the
year was out, she wanted to make the Million Dollar Club. So far
her house sales barely reached four hundred thousand dollars. “But
God, You are faithful!”
She stepped out with her purse filled with a
stack of business cards, then reached back for her shawl. Carter
Mortgage, housed in a historic building, was owned by generations
of the elite Carter family. Once she graced the entrance, Octavia
admired the architecture, which could serve as a backdrop for a
wedding photographer with its sculptured high ceilings and marble
floors.
The furniture in the lobby had been
rearranged since the last time she had been there. Counter tables
were sprinkled throughout for people to stand, sip and chat, as
well as sectional seating for cozy conversations.
A server greeted her and offered her a glass
of champagne. She declined, eying a buffet spread in view. Surely,
there would be bottles of water to quench her thirst.
As she inched her way toward the food, she
slipped out a few business cards to have handy in case she was
stopped before she reached the table. She had yet to see Terri or a
familiar face. A gentleman stepped in her path and grinned.
“Well, hello there.” He scanned her attire
and lingered at body parts that made Octavia uncomfortable. She
schooled her disgust with a sweet smile. “Hi. I’m Octavia
Winston.”
“I’m Frank Lindell…”
Who didn’t know the Lindell name in St.
Louis? He was responsible for most of the new developments near
Lambert Airport and beyond. “You construct the most beautiful
homes,” she complimented.
When he held his hand out for a shake, she
placed her card between his fingers. She was interested in business
and nothing else. Something told her she would have to pry her
hands from his grip.
Octavia guessed he was in his mid-forties.
She was sure his blue eyes were his best asset when it came to
attracting a woman, but she wasn’t one of them.
Clearly, the man didn’t want to talk
business, so she discreetly inched her way to table. “I apologize.
I just came from church and I’m a bit hungry.”
He nodded and waited patiently as she placed
hors d’oeuvres on her crystal luncheon plate.
“Let’s chat a bit,” he suggested as he led
her to a counter table a group had just vacated.
Again, he waited as she blessed her food,
then began to nibble. Surprisingly, Frank talked about another
phase of his existing development. Maybe she had misjudged him.
“I would like to discuss more of my vision
over dinner and escort you to some other events—introduce you to
colleagues and associates.”
Dinner? Octavia knew how to separate business
from pleasure. “I would appreciate that. Since my broker invited me
here today, I would love to return the favor and bring her along.”
She didn’t realize she had eaten everything on her plate until a
server reached for it and she consented. After dabbed her mouth,
Octavia extended her hand for a shake—briefly, then she excused
herself.
Octavia exhaled. While looking for Terri, she
introduced herself to other professional women until she saw a
familiar face and made a beeline in his direction.
“Minister Tolliver, it’s good to see you!”
Octavia smiled and gave him a loose Christian sisterly hug. She
didn’t have any brothers, but Rossi was a good stand-in. “What are
you doing here?”
“Same as you.” He laughed. “Rubbing shoulders
with moneymakers to let them know that downtown East St. Louis had
a face-lift and is open for business.”
Rossi had given the depressed business
district in the Metro East more than a face-lift. Her friend and
his cousin had designed and constructed a business/loft/shopping
area that they named Tolliver Town. Octavia had worked with him in
getting small businesses, such as classy boutique shops and
restaurants, to lease spaces. With incentives like low rent for one
year and other perks, spaces were filled within months. It had been
a win-win for all. Now the Tolliver cousins were on to phase
two.
Realizing her rudeness, Octavia turned to
apologize to the other man, then blinked. Her mouth opened, but the
words were delayed. “Lan–Land…my Landon? Wow.” She scanned him from
head to toe. “You cleaned up.” She blushed.
“Your Landon.” Landon snickered. “I like
that. Does that mean I get a hug, too?”
“No,” she teased and smacked his hand. She
hadn’t meant to call him
her
Landon, as if he belonged to
her. He wasn’t a stray dog she found—he belonged to God. To keep
from staring, she faced Rossi again. “I see you met Minister
Tolliver.”
Landon seemed surprised and not too pleased
by the revelation. “I didn’t know he was a minister.”
Rossi slipped his hands in his pockets and
rocked on his heels, then shrugged. “It’s a title. We all have
them.”
The man was as humble as pie, handsome and
successful—a good combination for husband material, and every woman
seemed to be after her “big brother,” but Octavia knew his heart
belonged to one woman and Rossi had yet to tell her. “So how do you
two know each other?”
“I had no idea when I stopped by Mac’s Place
that Landon had met my favorite sister.” Rossi chuckled. “Karyn and
her staff treated him to the works at Crowning Glory, so that he
could network today. Now, I see God was watering a seed you had
planted.” He winked.
Well, Jesus, You sent the right man to
rescue Landon.
He was definitely in good hands with Rossi. She
guessed her assignment with Landon was finished, except to stay
prayerful. If Octavia could read Rossi’s mind, he was probably
thinking like her that God had Landon on some type of course, and
she and Rossi were being used as relay runners to get Landon to the
next destination.
“I know that Scripture,” Landon said as if in
a warning tone.
That was a good sign. She was attracted to
men who liked to read and one who read his Bible got her attention.
Before Octavia could engage him more, Terri was in her peripheral
vision, waving frantically at her. “I better go mingle if I want to
roll with the big dogs this year. Minister Rossi, I’ll see you at
the tent meeting next weekend?”
“I look forward to being there,” Rossi
nodded.
Octavia chanced another glance at Landon.
Wow. Clothes may not make the man, but clean and pressed garments
uncovered the hunk before her. Plus, he read his Bible! Her heart
danced. Enough ogling, she chided herself as she met Terri
halfway.
“Girl, where have you been? I’ve been looking
for you,” Terri scolded in a hushed tone. “There are some contacts
I want you to meet.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Who were you
talking to?”
Peeping over her shoulder, Octavia was
surprised to see Landon and Rossi watching her. When Rossi waved,
Terri, recognizing him, waved back.
“Who’s that other good-looking guy?” Terri
asked, elbowing her.
“Landon.”
“Who?”
“The guy that was in the house,” Octavia
reminded her.
Terri seemed to gasp for air. “You’re kidding
me.” She squinted, then grabbed Octavia’s hand and tugged her in
another direction. “We’ll talk about your charity case later. Right
now, I want to introduce you to some new circles of CEOs,
attorneys…”
A minister, huh? Landon thought the kindred
connection with Rossi was because…Landon didn’t know why. Landon
didn’t know what disappointed him more—Rossi’s status or Octavia
not acknowledging him. Rejection empowered him to come back
swinging with a vengeance, but something told him not to tangle
with Octavia because he would lose, and he wasn’t referring to his
meager possessions, but his heart.
He had never seen a woman of color with that
blondish shade of brown hair. It had to be natural because it
blended with her skin tone, which made her stunning with little
effort. Although the curls she wore the other day came off as
sassy, today with her hair swept up in a ball, she looked like a
princess. Beautiful didn’t begin to describe her. While she had
been chatting with Rossi, Landon admired her shapely figure in that
white dress. It might have been hot outside, but one look at
Octavia and he was refreshed.
When she strutted away, she seemed to glide
across the room, and she didn’t go unnoticed by others who parted a
path when they saw her coming. As Octavia disappeared into the
crowd, Landon remembered to breathe. That woman had his heart
pumping as if he was running on a treadmill. “Wow.” Drawing his
eyes away, he squinted at Rossi. “So did you two ever have a thing
going?”
“No,” Rossi answered easily. “We’re brother
and sister in Christ. Listen, I don’t know your story, but I know
the look and I know her story. Don’t mess with Octavia unless
you’re planning to put Christ first in your life.”
And that was a problem. People thought
repenting was easy, but it was more than saying, sorry. He should
know as one who had never allowed Jesus to be a barrier from him
getting whatever or whomever he wanted in the past, and he had lost
playing those games. “Noted. So why didn’t you tell me you were a
minister?” As a server walked by, Landon eyed the flute of
champagne. He needed something stronger.
“You didn’t ask me,” Rossi stated, pulling
him back to the conversation. “Is that supposed to change our
friendship?” He crossed his arms in a challenge, throwing the ball
into Landon’s court.
Rossi was right—he hadn’t asked. Landon
hadn’t asked Rossi or Octavia for anything. Yet the two had freely
given to him.
Plus, who am I kidding?
Little by little,
Rossi made him feel like Landon Jeffery Thomas instead of a
nameless, faceless person on the street. He owed Rossi, and he
wasn’t talking about the cost for the spa treatment he had received
the day before at his family’s barber/beauty salon. Rossi had his
clothes pressed and his shoes shined. Rossi had made introductions
nonstop since they arrived and he talked about Landon as if he had
known him since birth.