Preacher and The Prostitute

by Barrett, Brenda

  “Thank you.” His voice was husky.

  “How did you know I was not with Fisher and Smith anymore?” Maribel whispered hoarsely.

  “Vivian told me.”

  “Oh.” She was tongue-tied.

  “How about lunch?” He had a smile in his voice.

  “How? Where? When?” Maribel was so surprised her heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “I got in last night for your birthday,” Brian said smoothly. “I always wanted to propose on your birthday.”

  “Yes,” Maribel said eagerly.

  “Yes what?” Brian asked, puzzled.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.” Maribel started shoving her things in her bag. She was definitely going to spend the day with him.

  “Thank God for that, but I am still going to ask properly,” Brian said. “What time should I pick you up for lunch?”

  “Now,” Maribel demanded.

  “It is eight-thirty in the morning,” Brian laughed. “I will be there in ten minutes.”

  Maribel couldn’t stop smiling.

  EPILOGUE

  “Isn’t it crass and completely lacking in taste to print as a headline The Preacher and The Prostitute Tie the Knot?” Brian’s mother, Catherine, was pacing around the room as she rocked Cathy’s four-month-old baby Matthew to sleep and glancing disdainfully at the newspaper headline.

  Vivian was lounging on the bed, a mirror propped on her knee as she applied her eyeliner carefully. “I like that word crass. I must use it next time Paul’s mother comes to Jamaica.”

  “That’s next month,” Maribel said pointedly, “for your wedding.” She was in a white slip and nothing else; the wedding was not going to start for another hour.

  “I like it,” Cathy said, pinning up her hair. “The Preacher and the Prostitute has a nice ring to it.”

  “The Preacher and the ex-Prostitute would be even better for our charity.” Karen was in the corner reading a copy of the paper. “And look, the critters spelled my surname incorrectly. It says here 'Maribel Contrell, soon to be Edwards, a former prostitute who is an accountant with UNICEF and a motivational speaker for the charity organization Women Unite, has decided to tie the knot with popular Canadian pastor Brian Edwards. Her close friend and head of Women Unite, Karen Meekle'—they spelt my name MEEKLE? Can you believe it?”

  “Read more,” Cathy mumbled, “I am sure my name has to be mentioned.”

  Karen cleared her throat. “Her close friend and head of Women Unite, Doctor Karen Miekle, says that Maribel’s marriage will create a huge gap when she leaves for Canada next month. ‘She was our best motivational speaker, the best example of what women can achieve when they decide to empower themselves from the shackles of prostitution.’”

  “Read about me,” Cathy said. “They must mention me.”

  Karen snorted. “Cathy Norwood, Maribel’s best friend …”

  “Nuh uh,” Vivian retorted. “I am Maribel’s best friend.”

  “I knew her first,” Cathy spun around from the mirror. “I introduced her to God.”

  Catherine cleared her throat before Vivian could retort. “Ladies, ladies. Before your argument gets louder, I am going to put this little one down with his grandmother,” she indicated a drowsy Matthew, “and I will be back to referee, so freeze there for a while.”

  Maribel giggled. “You guys are ridiculous; you are all my closest friends and I can’t imagine my big day without you three. And to tell you the truth, I am kinda dreading going to Canada without you all.”

  Vivian sniffed and got off the bed. Cathy and Karen walked to her and hugged her.

  “You will be with the man you love; we are happy for you.” Vivian squeezed her and then glanced in the mirror. “My dratted eye makeup is now on my cheeks.”

  They laughed together and were still chuckling when a knock sounded on the door. Karen opened the door and then giggled, “Ladies, the preacher has sent a gift.”

  Karen handed a small glass bottle to Maribel. It contained a neatly wrapped scroll. She took it and opened up the paper and read out loud. “If I speak in the languages of men and of angels but have not love I am a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal … Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. I love you, Maribel.”

  And with tears all dried and Maribel resplendent in her off-white wedding dress, she glided through the pews, her attendants behind her as she stared at Brian—his handsome face wreathed in smiles. She placed her hands in his and whispered, “I love you too.”

  Author's Notes

  Dear Reader,

  THANK YOU for reading The Preacher and the Prostitute! If you enjoyed reading it, PLEASE leave a review wherever you bought this ebook.

  You can also check out my BOOK LIST, for other Magnolia Sisters titles. You will find other titles, upcoming books and their release dates on this list as well, so check it out.

  If you have comments or suggestions, I welcome them. You can reach me and receive a reply at brenalbar@gmail.com.

  You can be among the first to hear when I have special prices and new book releases by signing up for my mailing list. It will take you less than 50 seconds to signup. Click here to signup.

  Continue scrolling for an excerpt from Private Sins, Book 1, in the Three Rivers Series.

  Thanks again. All the best,

  Brenda

  Private Sins.

  “I can't do this anymore,” Kelly said, looking at Chris with guilt in her eyes.

  He was driving along the scenic coastline of Runaway Bay, heading towards his villa. He flinched and tightened his hand on the steering wheel and in a voice belying his tension, asked gently, “You can't do what? You can’t be my interior decorator anymore?”

  “Be your mistress, girlfriend, bit-on-the-side. Whatever this is, Chris,” Kelly replied, glancing at him pleadingly. “This is wrong; so wrong on many levels.” She clasped her hands in her lap and inhaled. “It should not have started.”

  “You love me,” he said, slowing down the vehicle and turning into the villa's entrance. The landscaping was still unfinished and some men were busy constructing a stone wall. Chris tooted them as he navigated up the meandering driveway. The landscaper, who was transplanting a palm tree, waved to him.

  He stopped under the overhang at the front entrance; already the landscaper had planted white roses beside the trellis. They were supposed to entwine around the posts and create a scenic point of interest.

  He tried to avoid Kelly's startled look as he got out of the car, slamming the door harder than he should.

  Kelly scrambled out of the car and walked around to his side quickly.

  “No, I don't. I don’t think I do. This is just a fling, remember? We agreed, six months ago, when this whole thing started, that it would just be a one off. Chris…Chris! Are you listening to me?”

  Chris strolled into the villa and headed straight for his temporary office, which was a suite of rooms behind the receptionist area.

  Kelly swiftly walked in after him, her high heels making an echo on the marble tiles. The lobby area was the last place that she had to decorate and furnish, then she would be done with the job. She had done the ten two-bedroom villas that Chris had commissioned her to do, and in the process had lost all sense of morality.

  This job had been her moral undoing.

  She winced when she thought about how many days she spent in this very space with Chris Donahue in a sensual haze—hiding away from the real world, and lying to herself and her family.

  She leaned against the reception desk. It was not yet varnished, but the furniture maker had finished the design to her dictates. It would perfectly complement the forest theme she had envisioned when she had first seen the space.

  She glanced in the mirrors
that lined the wall in front of the desk and tried to avoid looking at herself. Her reflection seemed slightly accusing and her heartfelt sigh echoed into the hollow room. She cupped her hand under her chin and a rush of guilt—so raw and suffocating—grasped her by the chest that she found that she was breathing shallowly.

  She heard the door behind the desk open. The whole wall was covered in wood and the door was a seamless addition. She glanced around to see Chris standing there with a wounded look in his eyes.

  “I don't want to end this,” he whispered pleadingly.

  Kelly sighed. “I know, but it has to.”

  Chris ran his fingers through his curly hair and leaned against the door. “You could get a divorce…marry me.”

  Kelly inhaled then exhaled rapidly. “I have two children, Chris! That decision would have far-reaching consequences.”

  “I can take care of all of you,” Chris said earnestly, now standing before her—his hazel eyes glistening with tears.

  Kelly looked away from him and shook her head. “I still love my husband. I don't think I ever stopped loving him.”

  Her words stood between them and he backed away slightly. “He doesn’t give you the love and attention that you crave. I have watched you both over the years. He is so involved with his job that you are a mere second in his affections. I am a property developer. We could build hotels and villas together and you decorate them. We complement each other. You love me too, Kelly! I know you do. I can see you are trying to fight it because of some misplaced loyalty to a husband who doesn’t care about you. If you went missing, he wouldn’t care.”

  “That’s not true,” Kelly said, sobbing. “I can't just throw away ten years and two kids because of lust! I can't. I won't!”

  “Lust!” Chris snorted. “I have loved you for longer than ten years. The sad part about this is that you knew, but you married him anyway. I wasn’t good enough for you then and apparently I am not good enough for you now.”

  “Chris…don't.” Kelly wiped her eyes and gave him a beseeching look. “I am sorry, okay. I am sorry, sorrier than you would ever know. I'm sorry that this whole thing escalated into what it is now. You are handsome and young and rich. You will find somebody and…”

  “Shut up!” Chris shouted. “Just shut up! You accepted this job willingly, Kelly. For years you refused whenever I asked you to work on a project with me because you knew how I felt about you. You have always felt the tension between us. You wanted to start this affair. You wanted a reason to leave your relationship. Here I am Kelly! Here's the reason!”

  Chris jabbed himself in the chest, a stormy glint in his eyes. “Leave Theo and come to me. I am not marrying anyone else. I am not interested in anyone else.”

  Kelly turned away from him, her eyes damp. “I am choosing my family, Chris. Please, just take me home. Drat it, I wish I had driven my car. I will try to finish up the lobby in the agreed time, but I am putting an end to this now. Can we please not discuss this affair again?”

  “We'll see about that.” Chris stormed toward the car. “You can't just use me and then dump me! I love you.”

  Kelly walked behind him. “You can't tell him, Chris. He’s your pastor! You are his first elder! The church would have a field day with this if it ever gets out. Please see reason.”

  Chris slammed the car door, and Kelly had to hobble fast to get in before he drove off.

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