by Love Belvin
I paused to examine her for any rebuttals. We needed to be on one accord with this. Drugs were an absolute no-no. I’d been willing to concede on lots concerning Alexis, however drugs and/or illegal activities would not be one of them. I had a legacy and reputation to uphold.
When she gave me nothing resembling rebellion, I continued. “And finally, July 18th.”
That’s when her face finally cracked and balled in confusion.
“Huhn?”
“Our wedding date will be Saturday, July 18th. Considering your completion of school and dismissal from your employment, I don’t perceive a conflict.”
“I do have two other jobs—well, one other real job.”
I shook my head dismissively. “Beloved, with all due respect, I’m sure you earn no more than fifteen dollars an hour at Saks Fifth Avenue—and I’m being generous. A woman of your level of education and professional experience, much less, one who is married to a man of my stature will not be employed as a part time sales representative at a retail conglomerate. That just won’t do, dear.”
Less of a hard limit than the drug clause, but one just the same.
Her eyes went wide again, aghast. “So, just quit my job?”
I shrugged, disinterested. “Give them notice. I’ll concede to that. Besides, you’ll still be closing up the rec, or am I unclear on those details?” She shook her head. I recalled her telling me what the worst case scenario would be should they be denied further funding. “Good. Between ending your two jobs and planning a wedding, your hands will be full.”
Her pulse increased.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I don’t know how to plan a wedding, Ezra. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do, especially when I can’t afford even a cake.”
I snorted. “You have to stop thinking of money, Alexis.” She cocked her head to the side. I found myself shaking mine. “For starters, you won’t be left to plan it alone. You’ll actually have a task in keeping my mother from taking over. With that said, here’s a caveat: she will pay for what she wants.” I shrugged again. “However, if you don’t like it and want something else, I’ll pay for it.”
“I don’t think it’s fair for your parents to pay, Ezra.”
“I don’t think I have much say in the matter, and neither do you.” I chuckled to calm her. “I’m their only child. They’d feel slighted to not show off to their friends via the wedding of their only offspring.” Foreign concept, I know. “Also, the ceremony will take place at RSfALC, that’s non-negotiable if we are going to do a formal wedding. Let’s call it church politics.”
“Who wouldn’t want their ceremony at Redeeming Souls? The sanctuary seems to be designed for weddings. I just don’t know about a reception, flowers, dresses or invitations. I guess I could ask Nyree, but— Oh, shit! I have to tell my girlfriends!”
“Mouth, Alexis!”
She grimaced. “Sorry! It’s just that Ny is going to fry my ass for clipping her wedding day. I can’t ask her for wedding advice.”
“You don’t have to. I have someone in mind who could assist with those details. A PR firm I can reach out to, whom I’m sure has a few vendors in their repertoire. Or we can simply hire a coordinator.” Alexis began chewing on her lip. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to pick out your attire.”
“What?” Her eyes turned hard at my audacity.
“That’s only if you don’t already have a gown in mind.”
Her shoulders dropped again and she sighed, “I don’t,” with clenched eyes.
“Well, then my business here is done.” I released her hands, a rare dose of excitement spread through my chest. I was unaccustomed to high anticipation. I felt like a kid the night before Christmas, only I knew what my gift would be. She was standing in front of me in a thin t-shirt and tights hugging her voluptuous hips that I couldn’t wait to spread. For once, I envied simple cloth, which is why I needed to go. I’d already crossed so many lines with Alexis being unable to resist her feminine allure, something I had to repent profusely for. I couldn’t take that risk again. Not when I was so close.
I kissed her forehead again, not daring to near those lush lips. “We can discuss the details of your and Ms. Remah’s moving in later. I need to go. I have an early morning.”
On my way out of the kitchen, Alexis called, “Ezra…”
I acknowledged her over my shoulder.
“You sure you don’t want to stay and have another shot…” Those long lashes fanned her cheeks coyly. “…with me. We can talk more about what I’ll be bringing to the table. I can even give you a sample.” The small tip of her tongue dashed, swiping her lip.
My erection immediately swelled against my pants.
“Beloved, if you knew the beast awaiting you, you’d relish these last few weeks of my celibacy.”
At that, I continued out of the kitchen.
eight
Ezra
“So, Ms. Baker, you’re fresh out of undergrad, I see,” I noted as I scanned her résumé. A non-traditional student…like Alexis. That thought of her surprised me. “How did you enjoy your studies at Montclair State?”
“It was a wonderful learning experience. The program heads are big on life experience and that only adds to the students’ breadth of knowledge.”
“I see you’re not new to social services. You’ve worked for the city.”
“Yes, since 2001, Pastor Carmichael. Then I decided to go back to school to get my degree.” She smiled.
“Please. It’s Mr. Carmichael in this capacity. Yes, this is a church organization; however we are improving on our business environment to edify the ministry of Christ. Titles would be important to discern, as to not de-emphasize the significance of the business.” I inclined in my seat to gain a better vantage of Ms. Kim Baker, a prime candidate for the social worker position I was filling. “I’m also perfectly fine with you not being a member here at Redeeming Souls. Our community outreach branch must be a viable source to the people we serve. Historically, we’ve employed members who saw their work as nothing more than a charity that their social club provided at its leisure. We receive governmental supplemental funding and match it at sixty percent. Your salary comes from tax payers and our tithe-paying community. It would be expected for you to work in earnest to serve the role. Is that understood?”
I observed Ms. Baker, who could be around thirty, swallowing hard before she answered with conviction, “Absolutely, Mr. Carmichael. I’ve never heard that level of commitment from a church organization. If I were given the opportunity, I would work damn hard to provide outreach to those needing medical services.”
Precious’ mouth flew open. I didn’t flinch. She made the move to demonstrate her understanding of this being business as usual. Her moral-compromised conduct would be addressed by human resources. For now, she passed my screening. I’d seen everything I needed to see.
“Okay, Ms. Baker. I won’t prolong this secondary interview. I only wanted to screen you myself. I will give Ann Bethea my recommendation and she will take it from there.” I stood, buttoning my jacket. “My best in all your endeavors.”
She took my proffered hand in a firm shake. Ms. Baker shook it with forced confidence, but initiative no less. She had balls, and that’s what I needed. I was content, could feel the progression of transforming this place into a functional conduit of relief and resources for the community. The other aspect of my job was to strengthen the ministry leg, making our messaging of the gospel sound and inviting. It was particularly labor intensive, but nothing I couldn’t do. Besides, I was well on my way to having my personal retreat. Alexis.
Precious followed me out of the Mercies Room. In the hallway, on the way to the next interview for a technology position for our tutoring program, she skipped, uncharacteristically, to keep up with my strides.
My thoughts went to Alexis. I’d talked to her last night and she informed that I had Ms. Remah’s full approval. I was relieved to have that small matter behind m
e. I wasn’t expecting her grouchy persona. I guessed what tipped the scales in my favor was the fruit I had shipped from Jamaica in an attempt at charm. Thank God for His favor. Apparently Alexis was impressed by my charm as well, as she noted during our telephone conversation how the fruit was a hit and that Ms. Remah had such a good time back home she could sense a bit of sadness at not being able to be there for the very festival I’d spoken of.
“I’ll pay for her to go,” I offered.
“Ezra, no! You’re doing way too much!” Alexis quickly declined. “There’s no way I’d ask or expect you to do that.”
“You’ve done neither. It’s no matter at all.”
“You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.” Like with every approach concerning Alexis, I had my motives.
“But we’re about to get married. I don’t think she’d want to miss that. See, no need.” She quickly dismissed me. “Thanks for your offer though.”
“She could leave right after and stay as long as she likes. Besides, the suite may not be fully furnished in time for her move in. She can go back home and when she returns, her place will be ready.”
Things went silent.
“Alexis, are you there?”
“Ye-yeah,” she breathed.
I knew this was a difficult and enticing offer for her to refuse. I needed to make it easier.
“Would it help that I have air credits accumulating, so technically I wouldn’t be paying?”
The line went quiet again.
“I guess I could present it to her that way. She’s a very prideful and extremely stubborn woman, you know?”
And so are you, beloved.
“Do what you must. I’ll call to make the arrangements in the morning. So, about this wedding,” I swiftly changed the subject, “how large of a wedding party do you want?”
That navigation was successful and so was the roll out of plans for this wedding day.
I pulled out my phone to text Alexis on my way to the next interview.
Me: Hope your day off is productive.
Generic, but an attempt. This courting thing was exhausting.
“Pastor, that is the third position you’ve filled for our social services department. How soon are you planning on getting a supervisor in here to manage these roles?”
I stopped to address her. Just then, Alexis replied.
Alexis: I’m a hustler. #AlwaysProductiveBaby
Precious grimaced at my chortle. I couldn’t help it. Alexis could disarm me on occasion.
Me: That pleases me, beloved. Hope to see more of it.
My relaxed and amused eyes returned to Precious.
“Being worked on as we stand here instead of making our way into the next interview,” I answered her. “Soon.”
I continued down the corridor, passing employees and volunteers along the way. Suddenly, I felt my arm being pulled back.
It was Precious. Apprehensively, she balled her lips and dissuaded her eyes from my face. Even in her profile, Precious was undoubtedly a beautiful woman. It always baffled me how with her education, superior features and connections, she stayed here and labored with RSfALC. She could have even married a high ranking pastor within our family organization. I could count a few who were crazy for an opportunity.
“Ezra, ummmm,” she hesitated. I didn’t have time. I had a meeting after this interview. “I heard about your proposal.” Then her eyes appeared again.
I figured she would. Now that I had Alexis’ official agreement, it would be announced on Sunday.
“My father still believes Marva to be his diary,” I muttered, more to myself. I never understood why he didn’t simply divorce my mother and marry her. That was until I realized what he stood to lose if he had.
“So, it’s true?” she asked, pupils now searching each inch of my face.
“Yes. In July.”
“You don’t have to marry just anyone to gain the seat of senior pastor. I would’ve—I mean…” Exasperated, she palmed her face. Suddenly, she straightened. “I’ve wanted to give us another try. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’ve always wanted to be with you.”
“Precious, you’ve not always wanted to be with me. You made that perfectly clear when you almost cost me my freedom and future.” I wanted to clarify that right away. I may have moved past it, but I would never forget the ordeal. Second to my father’s chronic infidelity to my mother, that event was the biggest betrayal of my life. “And Alexis is no more unfamiliar to me than you are. I’m content with my decision and will not discuss matters of my personal life with a church and business associate.” I leveled my eyes with hers. “Are we clear?”
Her mouth hung in affront. I had no idea what she thought she’d gain with that inappropriate proposition. My phone went off again.
Alexis: You can see more of what I know will please you if you’ll stop being a damn prude!
It was my mouth that dropped this time. I leaped into step, headed away from Precious.
Me: MOUTH, ALEXIS!
I couldn’t afford anyone seeing my growing erection on the way to the Mercy Room.
Lex
My shoulders trembled as I laughed my sweaty ass off on a milk crate. It was easy to rattle Ezra’s cage. I tried not to be crude, but it was too tempting—his ass was too tempting. Underneath those suits and cashmere sweaters was a damn warrior’s body. I also didn’t want to give false expectations. Why couldn’t we just fuck before going through the task of a wedding so he would know if I’m what he wanted? I’d been feeling like such a damn fraud discussing wedding details with his mother lately. She had no idea what strangers Ezra and I really were.
I shook my head as I tucked my phone back in my blazer jacket and climbed a ladder to go back to counting.
“Lexi, baby girl, you still at it?”
“Yeah, Peewee.” I sighed loudly.
I’d been at it for over two hours now. Counting and checking against the last inventory. This was my third job, and incidentally, the longest one I’d had.
“I’m gonna run out and get a sandwich.” I could hear him drawing closer. “You want something?”
I glanced down at his pot belly that hid his feet. Peewee wore the same Yankee’s baseball cap I recalled in high school. But today, I could see progressive age marring his features as I stood on the ladder, counting sneakers. I sighed again, dismayed by it all.
“Not a good look?” he asked with palpable defeat.
I shook my head. “Peewee, you’ve only sold just over one hundred sneakers in the past three months aside from your new stock of recently released sneakers. You have to have a huge blow out sale to decrease this inventory, man.”
I couldn’t explain that today’s assessment meant a 42% decline which was up five points from six months ago. He wouldn’t get that. He needed hard numbers. I’d been responsible for Peewee’s inventory since I was a teen. It was a deal my father worked out with him as a friend. On paper, my father was a fulltime employee of Peewee’s Champion Runway sneaker store located on 125th in Harlem. He’d bought the store from Italian’s in the early eighties with money he’d gotten from a lawsuit. It was a smart investment, one that had its seedy dealings from time to time, but managed to stay above the fray of ending his stretch as an entrepreneur.
I sighed hard again as I descended the ladder. “Listen, Peewee.” I turned to him. “Just because you’re having a sale doesn’t mean you’re catching an ‘L’. It just means you’re handling your business—optimizing on your investments. You have to move this product.”
“Damn, Lex!” His shoulder collapsed mirroring mine. He sat up. “Money is tight. I need all the cash I can get. MiMi’s in college and my ex-wife’s house is in foreclosure. I don’t even live in that bitch, but my name is on the deed because we ain’t divorced. That shit keeping me from being able to buy a house with my new lady. I was hoping to get rid of these for the summer.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “You should do a summer sale
and use that as a selling point. The inventory still left by August could be used for a back to school sale. But you have to lower the price for them. Those green suede Puma’s that dropped in ’99 need to come down from sixty beans to twenty-five.”
He recoiled. “The fuck, Lex?”
I lifted my upturned palms in the air. “If you want to move this shit, you gotta move this shit. There are two new sneaker stores in the area, all commercial names. You gotta hustle to survive them. Harlem Pride.” I raised my hand in the air for a highfive.
With obvious reluctance, he slapped my palm. Then he turned ahead, exhaled again while shaking his head.
“I got the call. Going to pick up your pops next week.”
The mention of Rasul Grier had me cringing.
“What the hell is that for?” I caught the surprised humor in Peewee’s eyes. “You sick of your old man? Gotta man of your own now?” He chuckled.
You have no idea…
“Let’s just say you and I both have shit to deal with and your boy is one of mine.” I rolled my eyes.
“Why?” Peewee gasped.
Fuck it…
“I’m getting married.”
His eyes ballooned. “Get the fuck outta here, Lex! I didn’t even know you had a man.”
My brows narrowed at that. I’d only had a boyfriend for weeks before getting a fiancé.
“It happened kind of fast, Pee.” I shook off the reminder of this impending blunder. “I have to find a way to break the news to Rasul.”
“Shit,” he mumbled as he stood. “Good luck with that. I’m about to get me a number one from Fred’s. You sure you don’t want nothing?”
Seated on the step of the ladder, my eyes dancing against the floor, I shook my head. I really had a lot on my plate and needed to get ready to go.
“Oh, Lex,” Peewee called just as he turned to walk off. “About your cut for today—”
I waved him off right away. “Don’t sweat it, OG.”
