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Authors: Candy Jackson

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I chuckled. So much for me getting in and getting out. It was hard to walk into this house and not linger in the wonderful memories. It felt like so long ago when I
’d called this place home, though it had only been four years since I’d left for college. I did come home the day after graduation, but a week later, I was in my downtown DC condo...a surprise gift from my parents. I was thrilled that my mother and father understood my need to be independent and out on my own. But I really did miss this house in the Northwest section of DC, in an area that many called the Gold Coast, but I just called it home.

Though, this was far more than an ordinary home. This was an estate, an eight thousand square foot Victorian style home that was worth millions n
ow, but I know my grandfather had purchased it for a steal back in the sixties.

Growing up, though, I didn
’t know how privileged I was. I thought everyone lived in a huge house filled with love and a staff that met our every need. I was spoiled, there was no doubt about it. But I wasn’t a brat.  None of us were. My parents had raised children who had good minds and good manners.

And they exposed me to everything they could: I was a Girl Scout, a member of Jack and Jill, and a debutante in the Delta Sigma T
heta cotillion.

My parents had raised me right and I would always be grateful for their love, their inspiration and guidance. Now, though, it was time for me to take care of myself. And so even though I wanted to walk through the house, and even sit in fro
nt of the grand piano in the living room, I didn’t want to take any more time.

So, I rushed past the staircase to the room that was right off the patio
—my father’s study. I stepped inside, then locked the door behind me. That was just a safety precaution, in case Mrs. Johnson suddenly showed up.

It wasn
’t going to take me long to find what I needed. My father was neat, organized, and a creature of habit. Rushing to his oversized desk, I pulled open the drawer on the left, and there they were—a bunch of keys. If my father wasn’t so organized, I may have been in trouble. But the keys to Grace Tabernacle were on a keychain that was still being sold in the church bookstore. I dropped the keys into my purse, closed the drawer, made sure that nothing else was out of place, then walked to the door. I pressed my ear to the door, and when I was sure that all was quiet, I stepped into the hallway. This time, I didn’t linger. Sometimes it was nice to tarry in my childhood home. But not tonight.

Minutes later, I was in
my car, driving away. And feeling very excited.

I had the plan all in my head. Tomorrow, Bible Study. Before I
’d left for college, Malik always showed up to church an hour before Bible Study. I prayed that was still his practice. After that, I just had two questions—was the church alarm the same? And would Malik be alone?

Those were important questions because fir
st, if the alarm wasn’t the same, I wouldn’t be able to get into the church before Malik. But I was hoping and praying that the code that my father had given to me years ago when he’d asked me to leave some important papers on Pastor Malik’s desk was still the same code. It was a hard code to forget; it was the church’s zip code. I remembered thinking at the time that that was the dumbest alarm code ever. Couldn’t any street-smart burglar figure it out?

That
’s what I thought at the time, but it seemed that I had more confidence in burglars than they deserved because the church had never been broken into. I just hoped that the code had never been changed.

Then, there was my next question...would Malik be alone? That was as critical as the alarm because if Si
ster Stroman was with him, then my plan was shot. I would just have to pray, pray that demon away. I had to pray that God would clear the way for me, with the alarm and with that woman.

 

Chapter 7

 

 

 

 

 

The moment my digital clock’s
numbers flipped to 9:00, I picked up the phone.


Good morning; Sasha Jansen’s office; how may I help you?”


Amber, this is Sasha.”


Hey, girl,” she said and I rolled my eyes.

If I didn
’t have so much on my mind, I would’ve corrected her...again. When was she going to get that I was her boss? But, I couldn’t think about that right now. There was so much I had to do between now and six o’clock tonight.


What’s up?” Amber asked.


I’m not feeling well,” I said.


Really? You sound fine.”


Well, it’s a stomach flu,” I snapped. “It doesn’t affect my voice.”


Oh.”

She said that like she knew I was lying, but I didn
’t care. This was the first day that I was missing since I’d started working and I wasn’t going to make this a habit. “Can you tell Bob that I won’t be in today?”


Okay.” Then, she lowered her voice. “So, what’s really going on? You getting together with that fine Xavier?”


Girl. Bye!” I hung up the phone and wondered once again if it had been such a good idea to have a friend working with me.

But, there would be plenty of time
to think about that and maybe even handle it. Right now, though, there were far more important things on my schedule.

I lingered in the bed a little bit longer, but within fifteen minutes, I was in the shower, and then, dressed and on my way to the full day of pampering. I
’d actually called the manager of my favorite spa that just happened to be in my favorite hotel—the Four Seasons. I’d called last night and the manager had set it all up for me.

Of course, I was right on time for my 10:00 appointment and Michelle, the manager whisked me into the private area. First up was Joan, my manicurist, for a French tip manicure an
d pedicure. Next was my esthetician, Myra, who relaxed me with my herbal facial mask, and finally, Morgan, my stylist took over, adding highlights to my cinnamon-colored tresses. Then, she blow-dried my hair so that it hung straight, past my shoulders. By the time I walked out of that door five hours later, I felt like a diamond and looked like a million.                           

It was getting close to four when I arrived back at my condo. That gave me close to two hours to get ready. I
’d chosen my black maxi sleeveless dress. Though it covered all of me, it showed just about everything since I’d had the designer dress altered to highlight my shape. Even still, it wasn’t my sexiest outfit. But, it was sexy enough. I was going to church, after all. And really, it was sexier than anyone would know since I wasn’t going to wear a stitch of underwear. That was going to be my secret. A secret that I just might have to share, depending on how Plan B played out.

The second hand of the clock on my bedside table ti
cked as I dressed slowly and carefully. Perfection could never be rushed. But right on time, I was in my car and ready for the twenty-minute drive to the church. Every part of the plan, every step of the way had been worked out in my mind. The greatest challenge that I would face would be me. I had no doubt that Malik would be mine after tonight. I just had to remember to be patient. Of course, he would resist at first. But that would all be for show. Once he had his lips on my lips and his hands all on me, it would be a wrap. He’d be mine.

As long as I remembered that, it would be cool. I had to take this slow and easy. I was the seductress and he would be seduced.

My car was the only car on the lot when I rolled into my father’s space. This was exactly what I expected since it was only six and Bible Study didn’t begin ‘til seven-thirty. But just as I turned off the ignition, I frowned. Usually, I was so methodical in my planning, that I forgot nothing. Clearly though, it must’ve been my excitement that hadn’t allowed me to think this all the way through. Parking here, in my father’s space, right next to Malik’s, would alert him when he arrived. He’d know that I was waiting for him inside.

I revved up the engine, backed out, and swung my car around the corne
r, finally stopping in the space behind the church that was reserved for receiving shipments. Malik wouldn’t see me back here. The only problem—now, I had to walk on the pavement. I could end up with scratches on my red bottoms. But the prize was Malik, so I was willing to even sacrifice my shoes.

Sliding out of the car, my heart was pumping as I walked around to the front. It was a little bit excitement: I couldn
’t wait to be with Malik. And, it was a little bit anxiety: I wasn’t crazy about acting like one of those street-smart burglars, breaking into the church. But there were times in life when you had to do whatever you could to get what you really wanted.

When I got to the front door, my hands shook just a little as I put my father
’s key in the lock. Then, my stomach lurched when the door clicked open. First step: accomplished. But then, I faced the blinking light and the soft beeps of the alarm. If it wasn’t disarmed within a minute, the alarm would blare and the police would be here before I could get out of the parking lot. I took a deep breath, punched in the zip code, then squeezed my eyes shut.

And then...nothing. The alarm was off.

I reset it, though, so that Malik wouldn’t know that I was here, though I left the motion detection off. My hope was that Malik wouldn’t notice that little red light on the alarm. And if he did, he would just think that the last person hadn’t set the alarm correctly.

The silence of the church felt strange as I walked through the hall that led to Malik
’s office. His door was closed, and I wondered for a moment if this was something else that I hadn’t thought through. Was his personal office locked? But thank God, it wasn’t and I stepped inside. Malik may not have been here, but I felt as if he met me right at the door. Not in the flesh, but in every other way. I could feel his presence in this room where he spent so much time. And, I could definitely smell him. The fragrance of his woodsy cologne was left behind.

In the half hour that I had, I wanted to study Malik and r
eally get to know him. Using only the early evening light that shone through the windows, I took my time moving through his office, touching every part of him. My fingers trailed against the countless Bibles and commentaries and other books on his shelves. I studied his two degrees from Harvard University that hung on the wall, and then, I turned my attention to his desk. I admired the antique desk clock and the platinum pen and pencil set with his name engraved in each.

Then, I settled into the leather of
his executive chair and I wondered if he had one like this at home. If he didn’t, I would get him a chair like this—once we were married.

Smiling, I leaned back, but then, just as quickly, I frowned and sat up straight. I let an extra moment pass, just to
make sure that I saw exactly what I thought. In two seconds, I had that picture of Malik and his ugly wife face down, flat on the desk. Then, I wiggled back once again in the chair.

I only stayed there for a few moments, before I stood and continued my jo
urney. This time, I stopped in front of the closet that was partially open. I could see a couple of the robes inside and I reached for the burgundy one with the gold collar. Slipping it off the hanger, I slid into the robe and sighed. Of course, it hung off of me, several sizes too big, but I didn’t care. I brought the collar up to my nose and inhaled. Closing my eyes, I shook my head slightly. The thought that went through my mind, was of course, a corny one. But it was so true; this was the way I felt at this moment. All I could think was: Be still my heart. I so needed this man.

The soft beeps of the alarm startled me. I stood still, but for only a moment. He was here. It was time.

Moving quickly, I returned the robe to the hanger, then rushed back to the desk. I wanted to be sitting there so when he walked into his office, he would see me first. In my head, I went through my plan again. Malik would walk in, he would see me, he wouldn’t be able to resist, we would fall into each other’s arms, and finally, I’d be his and he’d be mine.

His footsteps echoed through the hall. Coming closer and closer. My heart beat to the pace of his movement. We were in sync already.

And then, the door opened. And there was my king.

Malik flipped on the light, then stood ther
e. He looked shocked, but he looked amazing. And even though he was feet away from me, the slight scent of him made its way to my nose.


Pink?” he asked, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.


Yes.” I left off the rest of the words. What I really wanted to say was, ‘Yes, my love.’ But I kept thinking about patience. There was no need to rush this. I had to let him get used to the idea that I was here. I stood, so that he could see every inch of me.

His eyes took another one of those slow strolls down my body
and I saw that glimmer in his eyes. The same glimmer that was there when he looked at me on Sunday. Then, he shook his head slightly, as if he really thought he could shake away his desire for me away. “Sister Pink, what’s going on?” he asked as he placed his briefcase by the door.

BOOK: Pink & Patent Leather
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