A Sinful Calling (8 page)

D
illon drove his black S-Class Mercedes out of the subdivision and waved at one of their female neighbors. Her husband was CEO at one of the top manufacturing companies in the city, and she was a stay-at-home mom. Dillon had never said more than a few words to her, but he always laughed when he saw her because he could tell she wanted him. Her husband was nearly three hundred pounds, not much to look at, and had to be at least sixty, yet she wasn't more than thirty-five. Even Raven had decided the woman had only married the man for money and status, and Dillon agreed. She wasn't Dillon's type, though, so Mr. Overweight CEO didn't have a thing to worry about when it came to his wife; not where Dillon was concerned, anyway.

He continued down the street, heading to the church, and turned right at the first stoplight. When he was a child, he'd longed to have a luxury car, and he hadn't cared which brand. Mercedes, Lexus, Audi, BMW, or Cadillac—he'd loved them all, and he'd told himself that when he became an adult, he'd have one or another. This hadn't happened, though, until he'd moved to Mitchell and met his dad.
And
his dad had given him all that money. It had been a dream come true, and one of the first things Dillon had done was buy himself a black Cadillac Escalade just like Curtis's.

Dillon shook his head, wondering why everything always resorted back to that demon he called his father. Why couldn't he just wipe Curtis from his mind, the same as his dad was doing with him? It was so tiring and frustrating, and Dillon wished he could punch someone. Right now, anyone would do, except he thought about how silly it was to worry about something he couldn't control, something he couldn't change no matter how much he wanted to. It was then that he thought about multiple ways to ruin his dad, and he smiled. He considered one idea after another, but he wouldn't settle on anything until he knew for sure what would work. He'd tried to get him before and had failed, but not this time. All he had to do from here on out was plan things step by step while also considering the consequences.

He turned on SiriusXM radio, which was already set on the Heart & Soul channel. This was his favorite R&B music station, but sometimes he listened to The Heat if that's what he was in the mood for. The Heat aired the kind of gangsta rap music most pastors probably didn't listen to, and he was sure many in his congregation, including some elders, wouldn't understand, either—well, except maybe Vincent, of course. But Dillon liked what he liked. He also wasn't a fan of gospel music, the way some would have expected, but he kept that to himself. The reason: He'd once heard his dad say that anyone who didn't like gospel music was either a lukewarm Christian or not a Christian at all. Dillon didn't abhor gospel music, and there were actually a couple of songs he enjoyed, but he couldn't see listening to it daily the way some folks did.

He bobbed his head to one of Charlie Wilson's songs until his phone rang. His administrative assistant's name and number displayed on his dashboard. He pressed the large control down in front of the center console to activate his car speaker.

“Good morning, Miss Brenda, how are you?”

“Good morning, I'm doing well. And what have I told you about calling me Miss Brenda, young man?”

“You know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, and you know I feel, too. I understand and appreciate the way you respect me as your elder, but I still work for you. ‘Miss Brenda' doesn't sound all that professional, and I keep trying to tell you that.”

Dillon laughed because they'd been going back and forth about this the whole time she'd been with him. It was their own private little joke. “Well, I'm sorry to disobey you, but I can't help it.”

“Anyway,” Brenda said, dismissing him, “how are you?”

“Can't complain.”

“That's for sure. We're all much too blessed for that. But hey, the reason I'm calling is to remind you that I have a doctor's appointment this morning. So I won't be here when you arrive.”

“Oh, okay. I didn't remember, but you know it's fine.”

“I just didn't want you to wonder where I was, and I also left your updated calendar for today and tomorrow on your desk. I added a couple of phone calls you need to make because two of our members were just admitted to the hospital yesterday.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, and thanks for alerting me. But more important, are you okay?”

“Yes, just having my annual checkup.”

“Good. Well, I'll see you this afternoon, then?”

“Yes, and maybe even before noon.”

“Okay, then.”

“Thanks, Pastor.”

“You're welcome.”

When he pressed the button, he smiled again. Brenda Dawson always made him feel better about everything. At first, he hadn't been all that open to hiring a woman who was old enough to be his mother, but Raven had made it clear that he wouldn't be hiring anyone close to his age. She'd talked about all the stories she'd heard about pastors and their secretaries, and how she wasn't dealing with that kind of nonsense. Now, though, he was glad he'd hired Miss Brenda, who was twenty years his senior, because she treated him like a son. Miss Lana, his dad's administrative assistant, regarded Curtis the same way, and it was interesting how Dillon unintentionally walked in his father's footsteps in many areas.

He sighed when he realized he was thinking about his father again, and flipped through his radio channels. He didn't want to hear the song that was playing, so he searched for something else. When he landed on a Christian talk station, he turned it again. But then he frowned when he thought he'd heard his dad's voice. He was sure he couldn't have, but he turned back to the program to see. He listened to the male host asking another question, and to Dillon's dismay, his father was in fact the guest.

“Well, I think one of the saddest things I see are phony Christians,” Curtis said. “And since I used to be one myself, I can spot them a mile away. Even when they seem near perfect.”

“That's interesting, and I agree with you,” the host said. “It really bothers me when people play with God.”

“Yes, and even sadder are men and women who claim they've been called by God to minister when they know they haven't. In many cases, God hasn't told them anything, yet they decide on their own to become ministers and pastors. And they do it just to make money. Or like in my case when I first became a pastor in the Chicago area, I really was called, but I also loved the way my occupation attracted women. Many of them threw themselves at me and were willing to do anything I wanted. Anything to be with a pastor. At the time, I had about three thousand members, but even pastors who have less than a hundred can usually sleep around with as many women as they want. I was young and dumb, but it still doesn't excuse my actions. I made bad choices, and it's the reason I try to mentor and warn other ministers when I can.”

“It's great that you're so transparent,” the host said. “This is the reason I wanted to have you call in, and if you're willing I'd love to have you back.”

“I appreciate that, Jacob. I'd be glad to.”

“So do you meet pastors like this all the time?”

“Unfortunately, I do, and I'm ashamed to say that I know one of the young men very well. He lives right here in Mitchell. And in his case, he'll do anything to get what he wants, and he has no moral values. He even once had a fiancée who he treated like an animal, and he slept with his own brother's wife. He's also done things to other family members, yet he has a pretty sizable congregation.”

“Hmmm,” Jacob said. “That's really too bad.”

Dillon nearly missed seeing the red light and slammed on his brakes. His face tightened, and he squinted his eyes. His father was actually on national radio, criticizing him publicly? It was bad enough that Curtis wanted nothing to do with him, but now he was going too far. He hadn't said Dillon's name, but everyone in Mitchell and most people nationwide knew that
the
Reverend Curtis Black had a son who was pastor of a church and that they lived in the same city.

When the light changed, Dillon stepped on the gas, flying down the road in outrage. But the more he drove, the more he slowed his speed…and then he smiled again. He
hated
this man, but oh, was his day coming. After this, Dillon would make paying his father back his top priority. He wouldn't be satisfied until the deed was done. His father had overstepped his bounds, and it was time for Dillon to stop him—it was high time for Reverend Curtis Black to see that his son wasn't some punk. Dillon was his firstborn child, and he would make his dad regret the day he ever met him.

T
he Tuxson, arguably Mitchell's finest restaurant and certainly Alicia's favorite, was filled with local businessmen and businesswomen. It was the go-to place during the lunch hour for anyone looking to impress out-of-town clients and associates. It was also the most elegant place locally for dinner and special occasions.

Alicia walked past the breathtaking waterfall and farther inside the entryway. She saw Melanie standing closer to the maître d' podium.

Melanie noticed her and smiled. “Hey, girl.”

Alicia smiled, too, and hugged her. “Hey, Mel. Have you been here long?”

“No, only about five minutes. It's pretty full today, though, so I'm glad I made a reservation. Especially since I have a patient to see at two thirty, and I need to be back by two.”

Alicia looked at her silver bangle watch. “It's only a couple of minutes after twelve, so we should be fine. And by the way, what a beautiful suit,” she told Melanie. It was navy blue with a peplum jacket and a knee-length skirt.

“Thank you. You know I got it on sale, though, right?”

Alicia laughed. “Yeah, I'm sure you did.”

Melanie laughed as well because it was common knowledge that if she had to pay full price for anything, she left it in the store.

After the maître d' checked off their reservation, he seated them in their requested area, overlooking the river. With it being so crowded, Alicia had doubted they'd get a table with a view, but she was happy it had worked out that way.

When the maître d' left, Alicia and Melanie scanned their menus.

“I'm really hungry today,” Melanie said.

Alicia looked at her, smiling.

Melanie noticed her staring. “You're a trip, and I already know what you're thinking. How happy you are to hear me say I'm hungry.”

“Yep. Can't help it. I remember what it was like just two years ago, and it's so good to see how things have turned around for you.”

“They really have, but it's all because of God, family, and friends like you. And, of course, my therapist, Dr. Brogan. She's been a huge blessing, and it's the reason I still see her once a month.”

“I didn't realize that. I knew you still saw her, but not that often.”

“Sometimes I see her twice a month if I feel like I need it. Because what I learned early on was that even if I didn't have an eating disorder, therapy is still a good thing for me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if I'd had someone to talk to about the way my mom treated me as a child, I might not have experienced so much emotional pain. I might've felt better about myself, because a good psychologist could have helped me deal with my mother's verbal abuse. I've also wondered if counseling would have helped Brad and me. As soon as we started arguing all the time, I knew we were in trouble. He worked day and night, we never saw each other, and I began eating less and less.”

“I hate that you guys couldn't work things out.”

“Yeah, but that's life. Divorces happen all the time.”

“I know, but the two of you were so good together.”

“For a good while, but after he had an affair, I just couldn't stay with him. Maybe if he hadn't gotten someone pregnant, I could've lived with it. I don't know, but I do wish we'd gotten counseling before things got so bad.”

Alicia thought about her and Levi's marriage and how her issues were causing a strain on it. Worse, she was now lying to him. She'd told him last night and again this morning that she was going to ask Melanie for her doctor's number when she knew she wasn't. She was also keeping things from him, particularly the voice she heard.

A young waitress with long coal-black hair and flawless cocoa skin walked up to their table. “Good afternoon, ladies. My name is Tory, and I'll be taking care of you.”

Alicia and Melanie greeted her at the same time. “Good afternoon.”

“Would you like to hear our specials for the day?”

Alicia nodded. “Yes, please.”

“We have Dijon-crusted Chilean sea bass with new potatoes, red peppers, and zucchini; chargrilled New York strip with twice-baked potato, green beans, and sautéed mushrooms; and finally, free-range chicken breast Florentine with whipped potatoes, wilted spinach, and grilled tomato.”

“All three sound great,” Melanie said.

Alicia agreed. “They do, and I think I'll have the Chilean sea bass.”

Melanie closed her menu. “Me too.”

“Sounds good,” Tory said, reaching for their menus. “Any drinks or appetizers?”

“Not for me,” Alicia said.

“Me either,” Melanie answered.

“Okay, then I'll bring your orders out to you as soon as they're ready.”

Alicia looked out the window.

“Are you okay?” Melanie asked.

“Uh-huh. Why do you ask?”

“Right before the waitress came over, something changed. For a second you looked a little down.”

“It was nothing.”

“Alicia, come on now. We've been best friends for how long? So tell me.”

“Things have been a little rocky with Levi and me.”

“Oh no. You were just saying on the phone this morning that everything was great. Especially now that your mom and James have finally accepted him.”

“I know, but this thing with Phillip has really bothered me, and lately it's been worse. So, of course, I haven't spent a lot of time with Levi. I just haven't been myself.”

“And you've not said anything? You've been suffering all alone?”

Alicia wished with everything in her that she could tell Melanie about the voice she kept hearing, but she just couldn't will herself to do it. She loved Melanie like a sister, and she trusted her with her life, but she didn't want her to think she was crazy. She didn't want anyone to know about it, and she believed it would eventually go away anyhow. “I didn't want to worry you.”

“But you don't mind me worrying you when I have problems?”

Alicia didn't say anything.

“I hid my issues from you and everyone else for years, and look where it got me. Pretending everything is okay only makes things worse. And if you can't tell your best friend that something is wrong, what's the point of having one?”

“I know, and I'm sorry. But I was hoping things would get better.”

“What difference does that make? Maybe that's what I should start doing, too.”

“What?”

“Not telling you anything.”

Alicia laughed. “You crack me up.”

“You think it's funny, but I'm serious. Do you want your marriage to end up like mine?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing,” Melanie interrupted her, clearly peeved about the whole thing. “When you have a problem, you get help for it. No excuses. So I suggest you guys go see a marriage counselor as soon as possible.”

“Levi said the same thing, but I don't think that's necessary.”

“Really? Well, I've given you the best advice I can, but you do what you want.”

Alicia frowned. “Why are you so upset?”

“Why? I'm a thirty-year-old nurse practitioner who's divorced, who has an eating disorder and a mother who's never loved her. I'm successful careerwise but I'm emotionally damaged, and I spend every night alone. But imagine how things might have turned out had I stopped pretending everything was perfect. What if I'd gotten help?”

Alicia hadn't looked at things that way. She also didn't know Melanie felt so critical about her life.

Alicia drank a sip of water. “But you do know you'll find someone else, right?”

“Maybe, but I would have rather stayed married to the man I'd loved for so many years.”

“I guess I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything. Just stop being in denial. Stop acting as though it's normal to still be grieving over Phillip after all this time. Stop telling yourself that his death is all your fault and that you and Levi don't have the right to be happy. Because I know that's what you're doing.”

She was right, but Alicia let her finish.

“I still struggle with my eating disorder from time to time, but like I said, my therapist is a blessing. And she's also helped me through my divorce pain. She helps me with other stuff, too. Sometimes it can be something as minor as a coworker issue I'm having trouble with. If you ask me, every human being on this earth could benefit from counseling. Either regularly or at certain times in their lives.”

“Can you give me her number?” Alicia said. “Maybe she can suggest a good marriage counselor.”

“Of course. I'll text it to you.”

Alicia had only asked for it so Melanie would stop reaming her left and right. But just like she wouldn't be calling Dr. Brogan regarding the voice she was hearing, she also wouldn't be calling about her marriage. She and Levi were going to be fine, and it wasn't necessary.

“Thanks,” Alicia said.

Melanie locked her hands together in her lap. “I'm glad you've come to your senses.”

Look how she talks to you
, the voice whispered to Alicia out of nowhere.
Remember when she hid all her problems from you? She just reminded you of that herself, so what a hypocrite. Remember before she went into treatment and you tried to talk her into eating, and she criticized you for messing around on Phillip with Levi? Yet she claims to be your best friend. Before it was all said and done, she'd thrown you out of her house and stopped speaking to you. And it wasn't until she was locked away at that treatment facility that she called you. She needed someone to be there for her, but other than that, you never would have heard from her again.

Alicia closed her eyes and opened them. She did the same thing again.

The waitress set their meals on the table.

Melanie thanked her and then looked at Alicia. “Are you feeling okay?”

“No, I've got a bad headache. Do you have anything I can take?”

Melanie pulled her leather shoulder bag from the back of her chair. “I think so.” She pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen and passed it to her.

Alicia poured two gel caps into her hand, swallowed them, and drank the rest of her water.

Melanie picked up her fork. “Have you been getting headaches a lot lately?”

“Not really. Only every now and then.”

“Well, if it continues, you should get it checked out.”

“It's probably just stress. Both personal and professional.”

“Why, what's going on at work?”

“Girl, that sister-in-law of mine has decided she wants to be co-pastor.”

“You've got to be kidding.”

“No, but I'll tell you the whole story another time.”

“What are you guys doing for the Fourth?” Melanie asked.

Alicia ate some of her fish. “Going over to my mother-in-law's. What about you and your dad?”

“As far as I know, nothing.”

“Why don't you come spend the day with us? My mother-in-law would love that. To her, the more people she can cook for, the better.”

“Maybe we will.”

“I hope so. And hey, I know this is way off the subject, but when are you going to start dating?”

“I don't know. After all this time, I'm still afraid of being hurt again.”

“I get that, but at some point I think you should take a chance.”

“I guess.”

“I'm surprised Brad finally gave up.”

“Yeah, well, he had until a couple of days ago.”

“And you didn't tell me? Now look who's not sharing news with their best friend.”

Melanie grinned. “Definitely not the same thing.”

“Maybe not, but I'm still surprised you didn't mention it. What did he say?”

“He wanted to get together and talk, but I don't have anything to say. Some things are better left unsaid, and I just don't want to open old wounds. I shed far too many tears, and I don't ever want to hurt like that again.”

Alicia opened her mouth to respond, but closed it when the voice stopped her.

See, this is the reason you need to end things. Otherwise you'll end up more hurt than your girl Melanie here. If you think what Brad did was awful, just you wait. Levi is going to hurt you ten times worse. You hurt Phillip to no end, and you know what the Bible says: We all reap what we sow. So are you going to wait for that? Wait to be hurt in a way you'll never recover from? It's not like your family cares about you anyway. I mean, let's face it, even though your mom claimed all was forgiven, you know she doesn't mean it. She said she was sorry, but you know she was lying. Everyone around you lies and says whatever you want to hear. So why not do yourself a favor and get this over with? Why don't you go home and pull that gun from your desk drawer?