Jasmine spun on Rachel like she was the new star of The Exorcist. “Hosea only has one woman,” Jasmine snapped. “And it ain’t her!”
Rachel couldn’t help it, she busted out laughing. Oh, this show had just gone to a whole other level.
“And what exactly is so funny?” Jasmine hissed.
“You. This.” Rachel motioned between Jasmine and Natasia. “The irony.” Rachel held her stomach, she was laughing so hard.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Natasia said, “but can we get down to business?”
Rachel let her laughter die down, but this was good stuff. Jasmine and her decrepit old friend had taken little digs at Rachel over the past few tapings. They’d done that knowing this Natasia chick was here. Oh, it was about to be on. Now, Rachel just needed to figure out how to bring it up when the cameras were rolling. That might be a little challenging since Natasia wasn’t actually on the show. But if there was anyone up for a challenge, it was Rachel.
Chapter
SEVENTEEN
Natasia
Natasia was a long way from being a schoolgirl, but that didn’t stop her from feeling giddy.
She peered through the camera, taking in the scene that was unfolding before her. Jasmine, Rachel, and Mary sat in a circle with a dozen girls from the Fulton County Right Track facility.
From the moment Melinda had brought this idea to Natasia, she’d thought it would be a good scene for the show: these three First Ladies, who each had such shady backgrounds themselves, talking about their tests and giving their testimonies to young ladies who needed to hear words of inspiration and wisdom. Surely, Rachel, Jasmine, and Mary were capable enough to handle this.
But then, maybe not. Instead of being inspired, the girls were just . . . bored.
It had started with Rachel. When she’d scooted forward in her chair and began to tell the girls how she became a teenage mom, but now she was a First Lady of a major church, the girls had exchanged glances, then slumped back in their chairs as if they knew this was gonna be a long day.
When it was Jasmine’s turn, she told the girls about her life and how she’d been delivered from envy, jealousy, and coveting. But when she ended her talk with “That’s how divas do it . . . and I’m done,” the girls looked at each other and shook their heads like they’d never heard anything so ridiculous coming out of the mouth of a grown woman.
And now Mary was talking. Most of the girls had thrown their heads back and were actually sleeping.
Then, Quita, the girl who’d almost beat the mess out of Mary, let go a snore so loud she sounded like a bear coming out of hibernation.
Everyone laughed, even Natasia.
Chauncey asked, “Should I keep filming?”
“Yes!” Natasia exclaimed. “We can always edit that out.” Or then, maybe not. She’d have to see if it helped to make for great TV.
Natasia couldn’t believe how she was really getting into this show. Often, she felt more like a referee than an executive producer, but she was getting the footage she needed to push the show to the top. She was sure of that. And with this being her first gig in this genre, that made her happy.
But what had her giddy had nothing to do with reality TV. What had her giddy was the reality of her life . . . and Hosea.
It had been more than a week since she’d walked into City of Lights and told Hosea everything and her heart still filled with joy when she thought about how it had all gone down. Not only had Hosea promised to be there for her always, but he’d even come to her home and then that night, had come back and taken her out to dinner.
They’d just had a quick bite at Captain D’s. Hosea explained that he had to get back home to his family. For the second time that day, she’d held back what she really wanted to say—that she needed him more than his wife and children did. Instead, she’d let Hosea know how grateful she was for his help.
In the past week, he’d continued to be there for her. He’d spent five of the last eight days with her. He’d come by to check on her, bring her dinner, give her scriptures to read, and pray with her. Then, sometimes, they would just talk.
But he never stayed for more than an hour or two. Though Natasia cherished that time, she noticed that he didn’t touch her, he hadn’t held her the way he had on Sunday. That’s what she yearned for; she just hadn’t been sure how to make that happen again.
But then there was last night. Just thinking about that made her smile now.
Hosea had called just as she sped away from Copeland’s, where she’d had a quick dinner with Sonny, Chauncey, and a couple of other guys from the crew.
“I’m just leaving church,” he said. “Have you eaten yet?”
Natasia had looked in her rearview mirror at the restaurant’s flashing blue sign.
“No,” she said, even though she’d just stuffed herself with the pecan-crusted catfish, her favorite Copeland’s dish. But she’d eat an elephant if it gave her a chance to go out with Hosea. “What do you have in mind?”
“I was gonna pick up a pizza . . . or do you want something else?”
Something else, she thought. Aloud, she said, “A pizza will be fine.”
It wasn’t the sit-down, candle-lit dinner that she’d been looking forward to, but she was sure that was coming. When that happened, she was going to make sure that Jasmine knew about it; maybe she’d even capture it on tape. But for now, sharing a pizza with Hosea at her apartment was a good thing—and actually, it might even be better than going out; this way, they could be much more intimate.
Just a little more than thirty minutes later, he’d shown up with the vegetarian pizza.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said the moment he stepped inside her apartment.
“I am.”
“Well, good. ’Cause I got a large for you.” He’d followed her into the kitchen.
“Great!” She reached for two plates from the cabinet.
But then he’d said, “Oh, no. This is for you. I have to get home.”
The look on her face must’ve told him that she’d expected more.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, of course. I just thought a pizza, and a large . . .”
“Well, you can freeze some for later.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ll do,” she said, trying to maintain her enthusiasm.
“Oh!” Hosea pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to her. “I made some calls and found a doctor.”
“Really?’
“Yeah, Dr. Ginsberg. He’s supposed to be one of the best rheumatologists here in Atlanta.”
“Thank you. I really do need a doctor here. I’ll call tomorrow for an appointment.”
He nodded. “And if you want, I’ll go with you to see him.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked, and then, without thinking, she’d jumped into his arms. “Thank you!” All thinking was tossed aside when she leaned back from her embrace and pressed her lips against his.
At first, the kiss shocked even her. But when Hosea didn’t pull back, Natasia pressed her body into his.
That contact awakened him and Hosea stepped away.
“Oh, my God,” Natasia said, as she tried to catch her breath. “Hosea, I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean—”
He held up his hands. “No, I get it.” With his fingertips, he wiped her kiss from his lips. “It’s fine.”
“I just don’t want you to think that this is anything but what it is.”
“I know it was just the moment. I know you’ve been going through all of this by yourself and to now have a little bit of help . . . it must mean a lot.”
“Yeah, that’s what it is,” she said, looking straight at him, hoping that he would believe her lie.
“So, we’re fine,” he said.
“Yeah, we are.”
“Well . . .” He waited as if he expected her to say something else.
“Well . . .” She stalled, hoping that once he thought about it,
he would want to turn that kiss into more than it was, into what she wanted it to be.
But Hosea had just turned away and with a curt “Good night,” he left her standing in her kitchen.
It wasn’t all that she’d hoped for, but Natasia got way more out of last night than she could’ve wanted. She had not been fooled by the way Hosea had left. Yes, she’d been the one to kiss him, but he hadn’t pulled away. That’s what she remembered. And that’s why she knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. The thing was, he was such an honorable man. She would have to be the one to figure it out for both of them.
Not that Natasia had any false hopes about what could really happen with Hosea. Would he leave Jasmine? Probably not. Especially not with the medical death sentence that hovered over her. But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have a relationship. She wanted it all—the time, the intimacy. She just wouldn’t have the ring.
She shook her head slightly, a bit surprised that she was willing to settle for that. She never thought she’d be willing to just have an affair. But facing her mortality had changed her perspective on so much.
It took everything within her to turn her thoughts from Hosea and focus on the scene they were still filming. She let her eyes rest on Jasmine for a long moment, and for the millionth time, she wondered what Hosea saw in that woman. Then, she turned to Rachel and Mary, who still sat with Jasmine, all three women talking to the mostly half-asleep teen girls.
At least she wouldn’t have to break up any fights today. The battles that they got into really amazed her.
It was a curious thing. Yes, Rachel always went to war with Jasmine, but their fights seemed to be all about the show. Each wanted to be the star and without that competition, Natasia could see the two being friends. Rachel had no class and Jasmine was only one step up, being the low-class chick that she was. That was enough to make them soul sisters.
But then there was Mary. Natasia could tell that if Mary was burning on a sidewalk, Rachel wouldn’t even stop to spit on her. In the past, Natasia may have been curious enough to explore that drama on the show. But not right now. Right now, she had her own issues. She had her own drama and she wanted to use the show to play it out, to help her get what she wanted.
She had to get Hosea on the show. Of course, she could ask him directly, but she wanted to keep their conversations just about the two of them. She never wanted him to think that she was using him or had any other motives besides him helping her through this horrible time of her life.
But Hosea being on the show would give her just what she wanted—more time with him. And the secondary benefit was she’d be able to expose Jasmine for the mean fool that she was. It was horrible what Jasmine had said to Rachel the other day, asking if her mother knew that she was stupid. If Hosea had seen that, he would know the kind of woman she really was, and then Natasia would be right there . . . Jasmine’s antithesis.
Natasia could think of a few scenes, a few scenarios that she could set up to expose Jasmine to Hosea. But she’d need some help. First, getting Hosea on the show, and then setting Jasmine up. She needed someone who wanted to bring Jasmine down just as much as she did.
Someone like Rachel Jackson Adams!
Yes, Rachel was the most country-speaking, neck-rolling, Ross-wearing-thinking-she-was-fly woman she’d ever met. But today, Natasia had new respect for the woman she was sure could never pass a fifth-grade test.
It was Rachel’s question, “Are you Hosea’s Natasia?” that had Natasia looking at Rachel with new eyes. When Rachel had asked her that, “Yes,” was right on the tip of Natasia’s tongue. But she was smart enough to pass an elementary school exam, so she hadn’t uttered a single word.
The question had made her curious, though. Why had Rachel asked? What did she know about her and Hosea? Had Jasmine been talking? Had Hosea been talking . . . about her?
She had no answers, but the fact that Rachel had asked let Natasia know that Rachel could be her ally.
When Sonny shouted, “Cut!” Natasia rushed to the circle of the First Ladies and the girls. Some of the girls were still asleep and had to be awakened, but Natasia left all of that for the producers. She headed straight to Rachel.
“This was such a brilliant idea,” she gushed to Rachel. “Thank you for thinking of it.”
It took Rachel a moment to respond, as if she couldn’t believe Natasia was talking to her, and Natasia wished that she’d been a bit nicer to Rachel before now. Finally, Rachel said, “You think so?” and she grinned.
So easy, Natasia thought. “Yes. Because not only did you get to inspire the girls, but you know how much we wanted to bring a news element to this show? Well, this helps. I’m going to interview the administrator of this facility, and we’re going to include that in this segment.”
“That’s fantastic,” Rachel said, sounding like now she was the one who was giddy.
From the corner of her eye, Natasia could see Jasmine watching and seething. Jasmine was trying not to stand too close, but it was obvious that she was listening to every word Natasia and Rachel exchanged.
And so for the benefit of Rachel and Jasmine, Natasia said, “We should really have lunch very soon. I know this show is going to be a hit and when we get picked up for another season, I just might consider you as a producer . . . you have such great ideas.”
“Oh, my God!” Rachel exclaimed and Natasia hoped that the girl didn’t faint. Rachel already acted like she had fallen and bumped her head. “Really?” She clapped her hands.
Not a chance, Natasia said inside. “Yes! Let’s talk about it soon.”
“Definitely!”
Without giving a single glance to Jasmine, Natasia strolled to the back of the facility. Now, that she had Rachel in place, all she needed to do was talk to Melinda. Tell her that it made no sense that they’d filmed Rachel with Lester and Mary with Nathan, but they had nothing with Jasmine and Hosea.
With that, Melinda would be able to convince Jasmine. Really, Jasmine had no choice. This was Natasia’s show, and she was going to make sure that Jasmine knew it. If Jasmine wanted to stay, she’d have to do it this way . . . or just leave the show.
And since Natasia knew that Jasmine wasn’t going to do that, she was sure that Hosea would be on the set very soon.
Natasia sighed. Winning always felt so wonderful.
Chapter
EIGHTEEN
Mary
Every day, Mary was hating more and more that she’d allowed Nathan to talk her into this. Yes, Pleasant City had gotten some screen time, but she couldn’t see how this reality show appearance would benefit them at all. In fact, if she were someone looking for a church home, she’d cross Pleasant City off the list for even participating in this mess. And Mary definitely couldn’t see why so-called classy women like Rachel and Jasmine would be doing this foolishness.
Mary glanced over at the Christmas card again. Nathan had actually set it up on the credenza in their hallway as if to serve as a constant reminder. No, she may not know why Rachel and Jasmine were doing the show, but she knew why she was. And that’s all she needed to focus on.
“What are you doing?” Nathan asked as he descended the stairs. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“I am dressed.” Mary glanced down at her black chiffon dress that hugged her ample hips and cut low in the front, showing off just a tad bit of cleavage. Since Rachel had talked about her “matronly outfits,” Mary tried to spruce her attire up a bit.
“Aren’t you guys filming the brunch today?” Nathan asked, frowning in confusion.
“Yes.” Mary nodded.
His eyes ran up and down her outfit again. “So, where are you going in that?”
It was her turn to be confused. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”
“You look like a whore,” he replied with disgust.
Mary bit her bottom lip in both anger and shame. Nathan was getting more and more crass every day.
“I . . . you agreed that I needed to
revamp my wardrobe.” She glanced down again. Yes, the outfit was a tad sexy but nothing like what she used to wear. “I was just trying to spruce it up.”
“By looking like a harlot?” he shot back. Then, he paused. “Wait a minute, so are you wearing that for Lester?”
Today was slated to be the first scene they would film with all the husbands. And Nathan was more excited about it than she was. It’s all he had been talking about for the past twenty-four hours.
“What?” she asked.
“That’s exactly why you’re wearing it.” He nodded as if he’d convinced himself without any help from her. “You knew your little boyfriend was going to be here and you want to look nice for him. Is that it?” Nathan stepped toward her. She could see his nostrils starting to flare. Was he seriously about to get angry over this?
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just put on an outfit.” Still, Mary found herself wondering if subconsciously, she’d put this on for Lester. “I just—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Nathan reached out and slapped her across the face. She winced in pain as she grabbed her face.
“Wh-what was that for?” Mary managed to reply.
“Because I’m not being ridiculous and you’re trying to play me and I don’t take kindly to getting played,” he hissed. He held up his hand like he was trying to calm himself. “I’m working my butt off and it’s like you’re fighting me every step of the way. I’m trying to get Lewis back for us and I can’t do that if my wife looks like a cheap whore. Now, get your behind back upstairs and change into something First Lady worthy.”
Mary sniffed as she scurried back up the stairs. If her old friends could see her now, no one would believe she’d been reduced to a submissive, whiny woman. The old Mary would have made Nathan the star of the new movie The Burning Bed 2, but this Mary was trying to walk with God and as Nathan was constantly telling her, that meant learning to be submissive and obedient.
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