Sinful Too (7 page)
Giorgio stroked Dior’s behind as air in the small room began to thicken. “I called over the weekend for some of this but I got no response,” he said, staring coldly into her eyes. “Was that man, the one I passed out there, the cause of it?”
“Who? That preacher?” she spat, with her lips twisted disagreeably.
“He left holding your cell number in his hand. There was no ticket, no purchase, no other reason for his visit. Don’t tell me you’re looking for another job?” he submitted dubiously. That was his way of asking if she was interviewing other men. Dior caught it right off. She unzipped his pants and slid her hand inside them.
“Nah, baby, I like this one just fine. I can’t give up on a gig that really works for me.”
“Glad to hear it,” he sighed, with slight reservations. “I’d like to come and check that net later.”
“I’d love to work late tonight,” she answered seductively. “Should I prepare dinner?”
“No, don’t bother. I’d rather have you instead.”
You Changed
F
our thirty that afternoon, Richard sat in the pastor’s chambers. Moments before, he ended a tenuous phone call with the president of a major construction company, who offered discount pricing on a job to pave one hundred acres of land adjacent to the church complex. Several construction firms submitted bids for the project but the others wouldn’t lower their fees as an incentive to be awarded a potential building contract. Richard’s shrewd business acumen proved sound in the past; he had saved the congregation millions by brokering the best deals possible. He was overwhelmingly responsible for the boom in church membership, and seven elders and five deacons followed his lead. At M.E.G.A., Pastor Dr. Richard Allamay, PhD, cherished a well-earned reputation for levelheadedness and a moral compass beyond reproach. His opinion surpassed that of all others; his word was bond. It was utterly inconceivable for him to put his own desires before the welfare of his family and friends.
Deacon Phillip Hunter, Richard’s closest friend of ten years, was a serious man with a dark complexion, shorter in stature than most and rather thick in the midsection. His full-time position, presiding over the DVD ministry, was a coveted job given to him after his former employer rightsized him out onto the streets. There was an insignificant amount of grumbling when Richard convinced the elders to pass over more qualified applicants. Phillip was happily married to Rose, Richard’s first cousin. Although it hadn’t been voiced aloud, the leadership board knew that Phillip backed Richard’s every decision, without question. Phillip’s loyalty had been bought and paid for. “I thought I heard you in here,” he said, as he stuck his head into the pastor’s office. “How’d the conference call go?”
“We’re getting closer to the final numbers. I set a meeting with Tatum and his right-hand man for late next week. You should be there too. I’ll get Dawn to send out notices to each member of the building committee. Based on the information I received from our banker, we can also break ground on an elementary charter school without additional paperwork.” A church-owned primary education facility was Phillip’s idea. He couldn’t believe it was becoming a reality.
“A real school?” he asked excitedly. “When, how did all of this happen?”
Calm as usual, Richard grinned. “It was nothing really. Dangling the right carrot pays off every now and then. I thought you should be the first to know. Tatum Construction wants to win our future business, unlike the others who handed in inflated projections because they knew we could afford them. Good stewardship is so important when you’re dealing with the Lord’s pocketbook.”
Phillip rushed over to thank his best friend. “I always said you were the best thing that ever happened to this church. You’re a good man, Richard, solid to the core. M.E.G.A. owes you so much.”
Richard shook his hand then held it for an extended period. “Sound relationships built on trust, Phillip — that’s the cornerstone of success. It started with the disciples and it still works today. Do us all a favor and keep the school business under your hat. I haven’t ironed out all the particulars yet.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my mouth shut but I’ll be popping off on the inside. Hallelujah, Brother Pastor, hallelujah!”
“Amen. You mind closing the door for a minute? I have another phone call to make.” Phillip left Richard alone in his office, which was nicely decorated with mahogany wood furniture and expensive oil paintings purchased by the church at Richard’s behest. His discretionary budget was five thousand dollars a month and attached to a credit card paid by his personal secretary. It was a minimal concession in comparison to the six-hundred-thousand-dollar salary he had demanded after learning two years ago that ministers with far less notoriety and smaller flocks earned more than he did. He considered his previous compensation of a quarter million a slap in the face. The elders had a meeting, then wholeheartedly agreed.
Behind closed doors, Richard slid a platinum credit card from his wallet. He laid it on the desk beside the business card Dior had given him. He stared at both of them, interested in what Dior was really like underneath her tough exterior and somewhat gritty homegirl posturing. He’d seen glimpses of warmth and honest compassion, wit, and an underlying angst toward conformity. She was a complex soul, a solitary woman who posed so many questions. Lured to her like a moth drawn by a flame, Richard was more than curious and he couldn’t explain it; not even to himself.
When he heard a car door shut outside, he turned his attention toward the parking lot. His wife had pulled into her personal space. He watched her climb out of her mint-green Lexus SUV, which she purchased because she thought it complemented her eyes. Nadeen waved at him through the partially opened blinds. He did the same. As she stomped down the pathway toward the business office entrance, chatting into a cell phone, he continued watching. Somewhere during their seventeen years of marriage, the torch he’d carried for Nadeen had blown out. He loved her, nothing changed about that. She was his wife, mother of his daughters, and someone who could no longer fuel his passion. Richard collected the cards from his desk then put them away. He realized his dilemma the moment she stepped through the door. He had everything a man could have prayed for. However, he was utterly and undeniably bored with it all.
Richard heard Nadeen’s flats clicking down the hall, her feet and mouth moving at an amazing clip simultaneously. He folded his arms and chuckled, remembering how that used to amuse him when she’d tear through a room like a whirlwind. Now, it seemed like a ridiculous way for a forty-three-year-old woman to act.
Nadeen Allamay wore her fair complexion and emerald colored eyes like fashion accessories. Voted Miss Mississippi Valley College 1987, she still cherished the years when her waistline wasn’t so full and her behind didn’t sag. Her looks hadn’t shifted nearly as much as her shape. Beautiful green eyes, long, thick, sandy-red hair, and high cheekbones still drew second glances from other men. Nadeen held her own as far as carpool moms went, but years had passed since Richard looked at her and saw the beauty queen he’d chased around campus for months before she gave him the time of day. Their marriage hadn’t died, but it was limping along the shores of apathy and mediocrity. Richard loved Nadeen and his children enough to stay in it without making a fuss like his father had to provide a safe environment for him and his four sisters. Nadeen loved Richard much like she always did, before the money and fame entered into it. He was a great provider and a good mate, when he wasn’t overly concerned with church business at the detriment to his family’s issues. Nadeen didn’t mind Richard’s weight increase or that his midsection had softened over the years. His shifting measurements didn’t change the way she felt about him. Unfortunately, Richard didn’t share her philosophy. His predilection to overvalue the visual aspects of his relationship had become a problem, although he hadn’t voiced it. Now that Dior was on his mind, Richard had already begun to reevaluate his marriage and his needs.
“Hey, Richard,” Nadeen whispered, with her hand up to deter him from starting a conversation while she blabbed into her cell phone. “Yeah, Rose, I’ll make sure your name is on the list for next Tuesday. I’m still hot over the way they acted like you couldn’t be worked in. Uh-uh, girl, me either. Oh, uh-huh, I’m in Richard’s office right now. Okay, we’ll confirm the details later. Yeah, I will. Bye, Rose.”
“Nadeen?” Richard said in a questioning manner. He wasn’t sure if she’d committed to shifting gears and conversing with him. “You through?”
“Yes, honey. That was just Rose. We’re coordinating our schedules for next week and planning our monthly spa outings. You know, girl stuff. The last time her name didn’t make the list or somebody took it off, either way she was not happy.” Nadeen could tell by Richard’s blank expression that he wasn’t interested in hearing about a girl’s day out. She placed her designer bag on his desk then leaned in for a kiss. “I’m sorry,” she cooed lovingly. “I should have been off the phone but Rose can’t keep her mouth shut. You know how she can be. How was your day?”
Richard took Nadeen in his arms like he’d done a million times before, but this one was different. He held her not like a wife but rather as a dear friend. He felt little beyond kinship. Disturbed by the lack of zeal in his heart, Richard pecked her on the cheek. “My day was good. Not anything special. I am hungry though. What’s for dinner?”
Nadeen wrinkled her nose, as if dinner was an afterthought. “I had a late lunch so whatever you’re in the mood for is alright with me,” she answered casually. Had she known what Richard was thinking, she’d have put more thought into her response.
“So, you didn’t sit anything out to thaw?” he asked, behind a shroud of discontentment.
So this is the first time today you’ve thought about feeding your family?
he thought to himself.
“It’s no big deal,” Nadeen surmised, “I could stop by the Olive Garden and pick up something. The girls love pasta and it’s one of your favorite places and —”
“What I really love is when you put your foot into dinner,” he interrupted emphatically. When he saw Nadeen staring at him oddly, as if to ask where that came from, he smiled. “Eating takeout is cool too.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way about my cooking but I’ll keep it in mind.” Her comment hung in the air so long Richard wished he hadn’t brought it up. “Maybe I should get started on dinner then. I’ll see you at home, honey.”
“Do I need to stop by the store for anything?” he asked, after regrettably putting his wife on the offensive.
Grabbing her purse, Nadeen sighed. “Uh-uh, I got it. Just come on home when you’re finished here.” She left his office without saying goodbye, one thing she’d never done. Richard wanted to apologize for hurting her feelings, then he thought better of it. Since she was a housewife, well-cared for and lavished with the best of everything, the least she could do was lend more concentration to their household, he reasoned. It would be only the beginning of his disappointments, intensified by his growing admiration for another woman. His scheming heart began to plot against Nadeen, making it easier to rationalize the moves he was making in his head about Dior. He knew it was wrong to conceive such hazardous thoughts. But he told himself that tipping around the fringes of lust was enough of a thrill to sustain his curiosity. Convincing himself of that wasn’t so easy.
Later that evening, Richard had dinner with his family. His mind was on the other side of town. Nadeen watched him closely after their discussion about home cooking. It shouldn’t have been difficult to feel the hole she bore into him with her eyes the entire time he picked over his meal, but he didn’t pay the least bit attention to her or the chicken, macaroni, and cheese casserole she’d prepared. Apparently, something other than her, his children, or the plate of food he allowed to get cold had inundated his mind. Nadeen shooed away her initial thoughts, dismissing them as bothersome notions having no business in a happy marriage. Richard was a busy man, a successful pastor, and a loving father. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to let a second affair inside the hedge he’d built after an earlier indiscretion nearly tore his world apart. Nadeen figured her husband was merely wrapped up in church matters. Until there was something concrete to make her think differently, it was best to keep her eyes open and her unsettling concerns to herself.
Richard’s restlessness followed him into the bedroom. Anxious ideas had him tossing and turning throughout the night. When he finally dozed off around three in the morning, Dior was there waiting on him. She stripped off his clothes and kissed him aggressively, performing the kinky acts Nadeen reserved for his birthday. It was the wildest sex he ever had, and even though it had happened in the recesses of his mind, it felt real as could be. He smelled Dior’s scent, touched, and tasted her. She was sensual, naughty, and sinfully skilled in the art of erotica. Passion swelled between his legs. Dior’s provocative maneuvers twisted Richard’s body while contorting hers in positions he wouldn’t have guessed possible. He gave her all that he had, matching stroke for stroke until he climaxed amid a thunderous boom of emotion. Richard awoke when he heard the sound of lightning clap against the darkened sky. Rain streamed down the windows. He sat on the side of the bed, staring breathlessly at the rise in his boxers and shocked by the accumulation of semen on his lap. Embarrassed by his first wet dream in years, Richard tiptoed into the master bathroom then closed the door. Gazing at himself in the mirror, he realized two things immediately. He’d have to rinse out his underwear and he really needed to get a tighter grip on reality. Confident in his ability to control his interest in Dior, he told himself it wouldn’t become a distraction in his home. His inner voice fooled him into believing it hadn’t already.
Easy Ain’t Free
T
he next morning, Richard couldn’t wait to get out of the house. By the time Nadeen had gotten dressed, he’d had breakfast, read the newspaper, and disappeared. He left a note on the kitchen table explaining that he had a full agenda and needed to get a jump on it. He checked in at the office, followed up on a few phone calls, and quickly began to plot out the rest of his day, which was centered on seeing Dior again.
