Too Little, Too Late (5 page)

“And it couldn’t wait?”

“No.”

She pushed her plate away. Looked him straight in the eye. “That was a coward’s way. You never even said good-bye.”

He took a moment to think. “I did what I thought was best.”

“No you didn’t. You left then because you couldn’t face me. You knew that if I was there, you’d never be able to walk away.”

He shook his head. “I wanted the break to be easy.”

She laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “How could breaking up ever be easy? Especially with the way I loved you.” She reached across the table, but he left her hand alone. “I thought you loved me, too.”

This was supposed to be a meeting between colleagues. But a while ago, they were so much more, and because of that, Hosea knew this conversation had to happen.

“I did love you, Natasia. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me.”

“But then, you took it back,” she said, as if she was still shocked by their break-up. “And I just want to know why.”

“Why are we going over this again?”

“Because even after five years, I still don’t understand.”

He shook his head, spoke softly. “We weren’t meant to be.”

“No matter how many times you say that, it doesn’t make sense. Not with the way we were.”

He nodded slowly. There was a time when he couldn’t understand it himself. Even now he couldn’t explain it in clear English. For four years they walked the path that both were sure would lead to marriage.

And then it was over.

She was right; it didn’t make sense.

Except—it was God. God spoke to his heart. Told him she was not the one. He had wrestled with God, at first. Refused to listen. But finally, he’d done what he had to do.

“So,” she said. “Can you explain it to me?” When he stayed silent, she added, “That’s what I thought.”

“I may not be able to explain it any better than I have, but I know we did the right thing.”

“How can you say that, Hosea? We were magic.”

He fought to keep those magical moments from his mind. “Natasia, we were not what the other needed.”

Her voice rose a bit. “You were exactly what I needed.” Then she softened. “What I wanted.” She grabbed his hand. “And you’re exactly what I want…now.”

He looked down at their hands together and remembered Jasmine’s words.

“I don’t trust her.”

Natasia said, “I loved you then and I love you now.”

He drew his hand away, as if he’d been bitten by a snake. “Natasia, this is crazy. You and me…it’s long over.”

“Are you sure?”

“How can you ask me that? I’m married.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t love you. I’m in love with
my wife.”

She shrugged away his words. “I was engaged when we met.”

His eyes thinned. “That was different. Your fiancé died.”

“And sometimes I feel like I went through two deaths!”

That hit him hard. He had to wait for her words to fade away before he spoke, “I’m sorry. I thought by now…” He paused, and his eyes scanned her face. “Natasia, maybe this isn’t going to work.”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You. And me. Working together. It’s going to be a problem.”

“Not for me.”

“But what you’re saying…” He stopped for a moment. “I never meant to hurt you.”

In her eyes, he saw all of her anger-hate-sorrow. She stared right through him, giving him no relief. Then, “I asked you a question, you answered. From now on, it’ll just be business.” She pulled a folder from her portfolio.

Hosea watched as she scanned through the papers. “Natasia.”

She looked up.

“Are you going to be able to handle this?”

“Handle what?” Her anger simmered. “Handle you throwing away the best thing that ever happened to you?” She shrugged. “Of course.”

“If what we used to be is going to get in the way…because I don’t want any drama.”

She tossed the folder onto the table. “You’ve known me longer than you’ve known your wife. There’s never been any drama with me, Hosea.” She paused. “Look at me. Do you think I’m going to have a problem moving on? I told you how I felt and you told me how you feel. It’s done. From now on, it’s all about business.” She leaned across the table. “It’s all about…
Bring. It. On.”

He saw something in her eyes—not defeat, not retreat.

She settled back in her chair. “I have questions about the L.A. show format,” as if the rest of their conversation had not happened.

Hosea pushed his plate aside. As she talked, inside, he prayed. He really wanted her to stay on the show, but their personal relationship had to end right here.

He prayed that Natasia could handle that. If not, then Jasmine was right. Natasia would have to go.

J
ASMINE GLANCED AT HER WATCH
; she had at least an hour before Hosea returned. Stepping from the elevator, she pulled open the glass doors to the
Bring It On
offices.

“Hi, Brittney.”

“Hey, Jasmine.” Hosea’s assistant swiveled in her chair. “Hosea’s out. He had a doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” she lied. “I wanted to surprise him for lunch, but I’ll wait in his office. I have some calls to make.”

Brittney nodded, turned back to her computer.

“By the way,” Jasmine paused. “I wanted to say hello to Natasia. Is she in?”

“Yeah, her office is two down from Hosea’s.”

“Thanks.” Jasmine kept her smile until she turned around. Two doors down wasn’t far enough. She’d make sure that Natasia was farther away once they got to Los Angeles—preferably in another building altogether.

She marched into Hosea’s office, adjusted the photos of her and Jacqueline atop his desk, then strolled back into the hall. But when she peeked inside Natasia’s office, it was empty.

Jasmine was tempted to walk in, sit down, and wait. But then this meeting wouldn’t appear coincidental.

Moving toward the coffee room, Jasmine heard the voice before she slowly stepped inside.

Natasia stood across the room, her cell phone gripped between her ear and her shoulder, her back to Jasmine.

“What do you mean there are no apartments at the Fairmont?”

Silence as Natasia listened and Jasmine grinned.

“No,” Natasia continued, her tone heavy with frustration. “I’ll be there too long to have a regular room.” Then, “How far away is this other hotel?”

The way Natasia sighed, Jasmine wondered if the hotel was in another state.

“All right, but keep me on the list at the Fairmont.” She clicked the phone off, then whipped around.

“Hello, Natasia.”

Natasia twisted her lips into a smile. Folded her arms and leaned against the counter. “Jasmine.”

“Ah.” Jasmine reached for a coffee cup. “You remember my name today.”

“Are you here to check on your husband?”

Jasmine poured her coffee. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m having lunch with Hosea.”

“Really? I’m surprised he’s hungry…for anything. After the,” Natasia paused, “what should I call it…dinner we had last night.”

It took both of Jasmine’s hands to keep her cup steady. “Well, it’s a new day, and he wants to have lunch with his wife.”

Natasia grinned. “Good for you.”

“So, is everything working out for you here?” Jasmine asked in a “I hope not” tone.

“Definitely. It’s more than I could have hoped for.”

“I’m surprised you left such a high-powered position in Chicago to take a temporary gig with
Bring It On.”

“Who says this is temporary?”

“I’d consider a three-month contract temporary.”

Jasmine knew she’d scored a point when Natasia’s smirk disappeared. She’d have to thank Deborah for that information.

“It’s a three-month contract for Los Angeles,” Natasia came back. “But there’s an option to continue as a consultant when the show comes back to New York.”

Now it was Jasmine who lost her smile. “You’ll be consulting from Chicago?”

“I could, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m keeping all the doors open, because New York is looking pretty wonderful right now. Especially after dinner at Tavern on the Green with Hosea, there’s more than just my career at stake.” She sauntered past Jasmine. “Think about that and then try to have a nice day.”

Her first thought was to throw the hot coffee she held right into Natasia’s face. But that would be a hard accident to explain.

Jasmine still heard Natasia’s chuckles even as she dumped the rest of her coffee into the sink.
It didn’t mean anything.

Hosea had called last night and told her he had a meeting. He just didn’t say it was dinner with Natasia.

Jasmine marched toward Hosea’s office. He had some explaining to do. But as she paced, she calmed. Confronting Hosea was not the way to handle her husband. He wasn’t the problem anyway. She needed to cut out this cancer at its core.

She was just going to get rid of Natasia.

J
ASMINE RUSHED THROUGH THE
doors of the church where her father-in-law was the pastor and half-waved to Mrs. Whittingham. Reverend Bush’s longtime assistant barely gave Jasmine a nod.

Time couldn’t change everything. Even though she had been married to Hosea for more than two years, Jasmine knew Mrs. Whittingham still didn’t like her. Still thought that Jasmine only wanted Hosea for his money and status and power.

But Jasmine didn’t care what the silver-haired, wide-hipped biddy thought.

“Is Mae Frances in?” Jasmine asked.

“Yeah,” was all Mrs. Whittingham said, not even taking her eyes from the computer.

Jasmine headed toward the room that had been converted from a storage closet.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Mae Frances huffed.

“I’m ten minutes early.”

“Whatever. I don’t know why you couldn’t take the time to have lunch with me.”

“Because,” Jasmine began before she sat, “I’ve got to get some work done before we leave for L.A. Do you have the information?”

Mae Frances slid a folder across her desk.

Jasmine’s eyes scanned the pages. “Where did you get this?”

“Where do you think? From one of my connections.”

Scrolling through the report, Jasmine wasn’t sure whether she should be delighted or deflated. One thing was sure, she’d been right.

The dossier, with photos, was thorough—including Natasia’s family history, employment record and reviews, even awards she’d received and the fact that she had an outstanding application with AFAA, an international adoption agency that specialized in placing African children in homes around the world.

But the part that made Jasmine shudder were the pages that highlighted Natasia’s road to
Bring It On.
The story that Natasia concocted about being pursued by the network wasn’t close to the truth. That part wasn’t a shock. But the extent to which Natasia had courted the execs made Jasmine know for sure that this woman was trouble. She’d called for meeting after meeting, week after week, writing proposals and giving presentations on how she could take the show to the top. It wasn’t until her agent insinuated to the network that she might not renew her contract that the relentless pursuit paid off.

“That Natasia Redding sure is a beauty,” Mae Frances said.

Jasmine’s stomach churned. “Thanks for sharing,” she said, not raising her eyes.

Mae Frances folded her hands. “Are you going to tell me now what’s going on?”

Jasmine started to speak, but then paused when she looked up. What a difference two years—and salvation—made. Here Mae Frances sat with her own office inside a church. A place where Mae Frances used to say only hypocrites resided.

She was never quite sure what Mae Frances did here at City of Lights. Special projects, was what Reverend Bush called it. Apparently, Mae Frances did research for his publishing ventures. Her current assignment: to examine how God used women in the Bible.

No matter what Reverend Bush said, Jasmine knew this was a trumped-up job, designed to keep Mae Frances in church and reading the Bible. Because of the reverend’s example, Mae Frances had a new heart. She glowed, she smiled. She laughed, she loved. Mae Frances had been changed.

“Answer me!” Mae Frances growled. “Tell me about this woman!”

Jasmine shook her head. There were a few things not even salvation could fix.

She told Mae Frances the story of Natasia. “She’s after Hosea,” she said finally. “And this,” she held up the papers, “proves it.”

Mae Frances waved her hand in the air. “Please, Preacher Man ain’t going nowhere.”

“I told you, they were engaged.”

“So? He married the woman he loved. And Lord knows there ain’t many men capable of love.” She leaned closer to Jasmine, her face and voice softer. “Preacher Man’s the real deal. And his daddy is too.”

Jasmine tilted her head. “Mae Frances, you got a thing for Reverend Bush?”

“Oh, please. That man ain’t nothing but a kid. I’m old enough to be his…” she patted her hair, “older sister. Any way, I’m not interested in that man. I’m only sayin’ that Preacher Man comes from good stock. He couldn’t care less about that model-looking toothpick.”

Her description of Natasia didn’t make Jasmine feel better. Made her think even more about the twenty or so extra pounds she carried since she’d given birth.

“If Natasia means nothing to Hosea, why didn’t he ever mention her?”

“For the same reason you never mentioned your ex to him. Forget about that woman.”

“I can’t because I know her.”

Mae Frances frowned. “From where?”

“From my past. I
was
Natasia. When I went after a man, I got him. And a wife was no deterrent for me. In fact, I think sometimes a man being married made it more satisfying when I got him. Believe me, I recognize the game,” she said, her concern apparent. “And you have to be a little bit crazy to play it. That makes her even more dangerous.”

Mae Frances nodded slowly. She stood, walked across the carpeted office, and locked her door. Then she looked back into the eyes of the woman she loved like a daughter. “Do you want me to take care of her?” she whispered.

Knowing exactly what she meant, Jasmine’s eyes widened. Here they were, sitting in the church, surrounded by shelves overflowing with Bibles. Here Mae Frances stood, with her new heart, suggesting old remedies. Here Jasmine sat, considering it.

Jasmine’s ringing cell phone stopped the conversation. She flipped it open. “Mrs. Sloss, is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes, Ms. Jasmine. Jacqueline’s fine, but I have some bad news. I won’t be able to go with you and Mr. Bush to Los Angeles. My daughter just called.” Mrs. Sloss sniffed. “She found a lump. It’s cancer. And I can’t leave my family right now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jasmine. We’re hopeful. We’re a praying family, you know.”

“I know. I’ll come home right now.”

“Oh, no. Just come after work. I want to give my daughter and her husband some time tonight. But I want to spend the night with them tomorrow.”

“Definitely.” Jasmine clicked off her phone and told Mae Frances the news. “Mrs. Sloss’s daughter makes my problems seem so trivial.” Jasmine rose from her seat and sighed. “I don’t know how I’m going to watch Natasia without Mrs. Sloss being there to help me with Jacquie.”

“Jasmine Larson, this woman has you so frazzled you’re forgetting your resources. I’ll go to Los Angeles with you. We’ll take care of Natasia Redding together.”

Jasmine scurried around the desk and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Thank you!” She kissed her cheek.

Mae Frances grumbled. “I’m only doing this so that I don’t have to be part of this bet we have going. In L.A., I won’t have to worry about going to church.” She paused and with laughter in her eyes, she asked, “Or do you plan to force me to go to church out there, too?”

“I’m sure Hosea will find a church for us, Nama.”

Mae Frances sucked her teeth. “Well, if I have to go, I will. But tell Preacher Man to find a good church. With someone who knows the Word. And who’s preaching it. Like his daddy.”

Jasmine laughed. With Mae Frances by her side, Natasia Redding didn’t stand a chance.

“You’re working late,” Malik said.

Jasmine pushed away from her computer and glanced at her godbrother standing at the door. “I’m trying to get as much done as I can before I leave.” She motioned for Malik to take a seat. “Thanks for not having a problem with this.”

“No biggie. Your team will hold it down. And there’s always the telephone.”

“And airplanes. If you need me I’ll be on the first thing smokin’.”

“I may take you up on that.” Malik loosened his tie. “And you can always work from de Janeiro,” he said, referring to their sister club in Los Angeles.

She shook her head. She wasn’t going anywhere near that place—where she met Brian Lewis. Where their affair started. “No, I’m staying far away from there.”

“Because of Brian?”

“Because my life is about my husband and daughter. I don’t want any part of anything that might bring drama.”

Malik nodded. “I’m really proud of you, Jas. You’re handling this marriage thing.”

“That’s why I’m going to Los Angeles. To keep my marriage straight.”

He frowned, and for the second time that day, she told the story of Natasia. She ended by saying, “So, I’m going to keep an eye on Natasia and if God is on my side, I’ll get rid of her, too.”

His lips were pressed together as he studied her words. “I hear what you’re sayin’, just keep your hands on top of the table. In plain sight. For everyone to see. Especially Hosea.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible with someone like Natasia.”

“Stay clean.” He spoke slowly, his warning in his tone. “Remember, no secrets from Hosea.”

Jasmine sighed. “Wish that were true.”

He held up his hands. “I don’t even want to know.”

“You already do,” Jasmine said. Indeed, Malik knew all of her secrets. She’d told her godbrother about her lies, even about Hosea not being Jacqueline’s father, before that secret had been exposed. “I haven’t told any
new
lies.”

“Why don’t you just tell Hosea that you were married before? And that age thing…that’s no biggie. Lots of women…and men lie about that.”

Jasmine pushed herself from her chair and strolled to the window. Like the summer day that was just now taking its bow, Jasmine wished her past would fade away as seamlessly. In her mind, she could almost see that happening. Over and over, she played the scenario where she would go to Hosea and confess the truth. But that’s where the tape ended. She could never get to the part where he held her. And loved her. And forgave her—again.

“I wish to God that I’d never told those lies, Malik. And now I wish I could tell the truth. But I can’t, especially not now. Not with Natasia in the picture. I can’t do anything that could give her an in with Hosea.”

“Natasia doesn’t have anything to do with your marriage. Hosea’s not like that.” Malik joined her at the window. “Promise me you’ll really pray about this, because I don’t want to think about what would happen if…”

He stopped, but Jasmine knew what his next words would be. This was a warning, just like the one he’d given her on the day her world came tumbling down…

It was supposed to be the best day of her life—eighteen months ago, the day Jacqueline was born.

But hell had opened up when Malik came to visit at the hospital bearing flowers and condemnation.

“The only reason I keep harping on you telling Hosea the truth about the baby is because I know that the longer the secret goes on, the worse it will be,” Malik had said as the two sat alone in her hospital room.

At that moment, Jasmine had been sorry that she’d ever confided in Malik about her baby’s paternity. “Why do you keep insisting that Hosea will find out? He won’t.”

“Jasmine, secrets never stay silent.”

Then she’d blurted out, “Hosea will never find out that he’s not Jacqueline’s father!” right before Reverend Bush walked in.

She had wanted to die right there. The reverend had heard everything. And he had forced Jasmine to tell Hosea the truth.

“I know you blame me for that secret coming out.” Malik interrupted her memory. “And I’m sorry.”

She turned away from him, but he didn’t stop.

“It’s just that before your dad passed away, I promised him that I would take care of you and Serena.” He paused when she faced him. “Your sister’s easy. But you…”

Now Jasmine smiled. “I don’t blame you, Malik.” When he raised his eyebrows, she said, “Okay, I did blame you, but I don’t anymore. It all worked out then and I’m going to be fine now. Don’t worry. I have everything under control this time.”

Malik nodded, although she knew that he still didn’t agree. But all he did was embrace her, and with his arms, told her that he hoped she was right.