“That makes sense,” Sydney said. “I had a great time. There were no distractions. No crowds. Just you, me, nature and God.”
“And the pilot,” Noah supplied.
“Oh, yeah. Thank God for him.” Sydney chuckled. “What I’m trying to say is, if I’m going to be thousands of feet in the air, I’m glad it was with you.”
“I feel the same.” Noah looked into her eyes. “Trying something new isn’t so bad, is it?”
Sydney crooked her head. She knew by his expression, he was asking about more than the hot air balloon. This was about their dating outside their races. She drew close to him and rested her head on his shoulders. “Trying something new is better than I could ever imagine.”
6
“You’re slipping,” a gravelly voice uttered.
At seventy-nine, Gramps was more than capable of out-swimming Noah, who was in his prime at thirty-six. His grandfather was in such great shape, people often thought he was twenty-years younger.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Noah finally said.
“Let me guess. Sydney?” Gramps asked. “You’ve yapped about nothing else for the past month. There must be something special about this young woman. You’ve never been so serious about a woman you just met.”
“That’s because she’s that amazing,” Noah said, before starting his sixth lap.
Noah lived by the creed of taking care of both his inner and outer temple. His body was God’s dwelling place and he’d take the best care of it. He exercised consistently, ate healthy, and made sure to lift weights to keep his body toned and proportioned.
With powerful strokes, he glided in the water before treading to the edge of the pool where Gramps stood.
“How are things going with your move from Texas?” Gramps asked.
“I’ve been working with a realtor in Texas to sell my house. Thank God for Martha,” Noah said referring to his former church secretary. “She’s having my clothes and some personal items shipped and she’s donated my furniture to church members on our missions list. She’s got it all handled so all I have to do is return home and say goodbye to the church. They’re holding a special luncheon in my honor sometime in August.” Noah tilted his chin. “You’re welcome to come with me. I’m only going for a couple of days.”
“I don’t want to leave Scurvy,” Gramps said.
Scurvy was a mistreated mix-breed Gramps had rescued from the pound. Noah thought Scurvy was a surly mutt, but Gramps loved the little guy.
Noah cracked up every time he saw them together. Gramps was huge and Scurvy was so small. It was hysterical to see such a large man with such a tiny dog.
Though Noah brought Martha in the conversation as a diversion, Gramps was not exaggerating. Sydney filled his mind. No matter what he was doing, Sydney Richardson surfaced. When he prayed, when he ate, even now while he’d been swimming, Noah wondered about her.
He hoisted himself out of the pool and went to join his Grandfather who now sat in one of the lounge chairs. A love bug perched on his nose. Noah swatted off the small pest common to Florida during the months of May and June. According to Gramps, they were not as prevalent as before as scientists worked on decreasing their quantities.
Gramps had placed a couple of towels on the back of the chair next to him. Grabbing a large towel, Noah plopped in the chair to dry off and continued their conversation.
“Scurvy can be boarded.”
“I’ll think on it. But don’t think I missed how you changed the subject. I want to talk about your infatuation with Sydney.”
“I’m thirty-six years old and still single. Weren’t you the one harping that I needed to settle down?” He dried his hair and ears.
“Yes, but I didn’t have this in mind.”
Gramps never minced words. “I know you’re concerned because she’s a different race. She is too.”
“Not another race, Noah. It’s that she’s African-American.”
His grandfather’s concerns were not a result of racial prejudice. Noah knew the reason behind Gramps words, but he was not ready for that conversation. “Gramps, I didn’t ask to feel this way about her.”
“Have you told her?”
Noah shook his head. “I told her about how Mom and Dad died, but I didn’t go any further. I think it’s too soon for me to disclose everything.”
“Not too soon if you’re already thinking about marriage.”
“It’s too soon.” Noah shook his head. “If I tell Sydney everything, she wouldn’t give me the time of day.” Besides his grandfather, only one other person knew Noah’s entire past history. His past was not something he was proud of or eager to share.
“I wish I could let the matter drop. But you’re already smitten with this woman. It’s been over five years since you’ve shown any interest in the opposite sex, so I know this is different. No man rolls the ‘m’ word off his tongue like gravy, if it weren’t something serious.”
Gramps left Noah after that. Feeling thirsty, Noah decided to head inside. He stopped by the sliding door and looked this way and that. He was not taking any chances on Scurvy spotting him. His shoulders relaxed. The coast was clear.
Noah strolled into the kitchen and snagged a bottled water from the fridge. He then headed to the master suite.
Still no Scurvy. Good.
Then he heard the telltale heavy panting. Noah increased his pace. He refused to give the grungy mutt any recognition.
Scurvy nipped at Noah’s heels. He sidestepped him and shut the door in Scurvy’s face. Noah heard a pitiful moan from the other side. “You can whine all you want. You’re not coming in here.”
He took a quick shower and dressed. Gathering his Bible, Noah cracked his door. He hunched with relief when he heard Gramps talking with Scurvy. Noah smiled. Despite his dislike for dogs, he loved how his grandfather interacted with him.
He walked into the third bedroom, which doubled as a library and settled behind the creaky, wooden table. Noah stretched his long legs to get comfortable. He planned to review his sermon notes before going into prayer. It was his first message at Beulah and he wanted to be ready. God had placed the word “priorities” in his spirit. In a world where there was so much pressure to do everything well, people forgot about God. They forgot He was the key to true contentment.
Noah turned his Bible to Psalm 63:1. "O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is.”
A vision of Sydney in that red dress and those shoes flashed before his eyes. Noah found her footwear decadent. He was thirsty for that. A sappy smile spread across his face. Then, God corrected him. He’d better get his priorities right first. Noah picked up his notebook to jot down some points. But he did allow himself one stray thought. “Lord, You’re so right. He that findeth a wife, findeth a good thing.”
7
Belinda walked around in the food court using her nose to help her decide what to eat. She’d stopped at the Town Center mall after work to window-shop and had purchased a pair of diamond studs courtesy of her dad’s Amex card. Then she strolled up to Auntie Anne’s and ordered cinnamon pretzel bites, a pretzel dog, and a small, strawberry lemonade.
“Hello, Belinda.”
She jumped, recognizing the deep voice. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be here in Port Charlotte. Belinda turned, praying she was wrong. Her eyes widened.
“Lance?” Her heart had the rhythm of a Congo drum in her chest.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m back and might I add, you look…” sultry dark-brown eyes scanned her from head to toe, “…stunning.” He licked his lips.
She’d worn a silk, leopard print shirt and a black, pleated skirt with matching pumps, proper work attire. But the way Lance looked at her, she felt naked.
Dressed in a baby blue colored sweat suit and matching blue and white Air Jordan sneakers, Lance looked as handsome as ever. She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?” Her chest
heaved. Port Charlotte was such a small town. She hoped Sydney wouldn’t decide to venture out to the mall. “I can’t believe you’d show your face here after what you did.”
Lance held up his hand and backed up a step. “Easy, easy. Retract your claws, Bells. I’m in town for business.”
Lance was a medical doctor who specialized in adult pulmonary critical care. A distinction he’d earned three years ago at the young age of thirty-five. He was brilliant and he made sure everyone knew it. When Belinda last saw him, he’d been hired at Sarasota Memorial to work in the Critical Care Unit.
“I’m here to interview at Fawcett. They’re recruiting me for Chief of the Critical Care Unit.”
“I can’t believe you’d come back to Port Charlotte.”
“It’s a nice career opportunity. I’d start off working in the pulmonary clinic with outpatient services and doing some rotations in the ICU. Then in a year when the current chief retires, I’d move into his position.” He smiled and tapped her on the shoulder. “I stopped to grab something to eat before checking into my hotel when I spotted you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not dressed for an interview. What are you up to?”
“I see you’re still suspicious as always. My suit is in my car,” he said. “I just drove down. The administration and doctors on the interview panel are meeting with me tonight.”
“Why would you come back here? You’d better think twice about taking the job,” Belinda said, through gritted teeth.
“Are you threatening me?” Lance hunched his shoulders.
“No, but I don’t want you anywhere near my friend.”
He scrunched his nose. “Just because you’re content to remain cooped up in a courtroom doing a job that bores you, doesn’t mean everyone stays in the same spot.”
She shook her head. “My job isn’t boring.”
Lance smirked. “Those were your very words.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re slime and you need to slither back to the hole you crawled out of or find a new hole in another city. You’re a big-time, in-demand doctor. You didn’t have to come back.”
Lance moved into Belinda’s space. “Maybe I need to remind you about yourself.”
She resisted the urge to flip him off. Why she shared the same breath as Lance Forbes for any time was beyond her. She clutched her pretzel bites and stormed off to the middle of the food court. Belinda hoped Lance would take the hint and leave her be. However, her pace was no match for his much longer stride. He followed in step next to her. Built like he was, Lance was one of the few men who made her feel small and delicate.
She slumped into one of the chairs. “Go away,” she said, taking the pretzel dog out of the bag. She thought about taking a bite, but she was no longer hungry. She shoved the food a few inches away from her. “You’ve ruined my appetite.”
Lance pointed to her pretzel dog. “Since you don’t feel like eating anymore, how about you let me have that?”
Belinda pursed her lips before pushing the pretzel dog his way. He dug in. Her insides churned. She watched Lance devour the pretzel dog in seconds. The shock of seeing him was over now. Her stomach was filled with worry.
“So since you insist on eating my food, I must ask, is Monica here with you?”
Mentioning Monica Riley was like tearing duct tape off her lips. But she had to know. She closed her eyes, willing the image of the curly-haired, pouty-lipped beauty to leave her mind.
Lance shook his head. “No … No … Monica was not who I thought she was. She and I are through, and all I can say is I’m avoiding that danger zone. She belongs in a straitjacket. We’ve been done over a year now.”
Belinda’s mouth fell open. “What happened?”
Her cell phone rang before he could answer. She saw Sydney’s face and used a clammy, guilty finger to send the call to voicemail. She wiped her hands with a napkin. Lance had her nerves in a knot.
“Are you going to tell her?” Belinda asked, broaching the subject uppermost on her mind.
“What are you talking about?” Lance avoided her gaze. Instead, he snatched her now forgotten cinnamon bites and popped one in his mouth.
Then he helped himself to her lemonade. His loud slurps aggravated her. She gritted her teeth to keep from calling him outside his name.
She leaned forward. “Don’t play dumb with me, Lance. You may be many things … smart, conniving, manipulating, but dumb is not one of them.”
“Thanks for the back-handed compliment.”
Belinda clasped her hands in her lap to keep from slapping the ingratiating smirk off his face. She was more than ready for this conversation to be over. But Belinda was held prisoner by a secret that would destroy her friendship with Sydney.
“Don’t worry.” He slouched low in the chair. “I have no intention of telling Sydney we slept together.”
Belinda was not fooled by his relaxed position. She caught his hungry eyes observing her every move. Her chest tightened. “Have you been calling her?”
“Yes, I’ve called her office a few times. I want to make peace.”
“Is your idea of making peace telling Sydney everything?” Belinda wiped her hands on a napkin to hide her nervousness. “What happened between us was the biggest mistake of my life. If I could go back in time, believe me I would.” She flipped her hair. “I’m not the same person you knew back then. I’ve given my life to God.”
“You’ve got religion?” he cackled.
Was the idea of her being saved preposterous? Belinda blinked, refusing to acknowledge the hurt crawling through her heart. “I take my salvation seriously, so please don’t joke about it. My betraying Sydney tore at my very being and God was the only way out.”
Lance leaned forward and whispered, “I, too, have changed, but be honest. Our sleeping together is not what’s bothering you. It’s the fact that you enjoyed it. Immensely.”
Belinda glared. She refused to dignify that asinine comment with a response.
“Let me get your cell number.”
She folded her arms. “Go to … France.”
Lance’s eyes hardened. “You will give me your number. I wasn’t asking.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go, but we must continue our conversation.”
“We have nothing to talk about.” She cut her eyes.
Lance jumped to his feet. “I love a feisty woman, but I honestly don’t have the time for verbal sparring. Give me your number. Unless you want me to continue calling Sydney. Her assistant has been giving me the run around, but I could easily drop by her office.”
She gritted her teeth. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” He extended his palm.
“You’re a manipulative jerk.” She scribbled her phone number on a napkin. “Here.” She shoved the napkin into his palm.
Lance took out his cell phone.
“I’m going to regret this,” she mumbled.
Just then her cell phone rang. An unknown number popped up on her caller ID. She took the call mainly to avoid talking to Lance. “Hello?”
“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t give me false digits.” He pinched her cheeks and ended the call. He pierced her with a gaze and his voice dropped. “So why haven’t you gotten away from the courthouse? You said you wanted to give it up.”
Lance reached for her drink and took a sip.
Belinda swallowed. She was surprised he remembered her telling him that. “I think about it, but…”
Lance leaned forward in his chair and once again locked eyes with her. “But you’re too busy shopping and hanging out to get serious about your goal.”
Belinda frowned. “I don’t need you to analyze my choices.”
Lance took another sip of her drink and slid the cup back in front of her. “That’s true. I’m just trying to be a friend.”
Belinda squinted. “You just blackmailed me for my phone number. You don’t feel like a friend to me.”
“I’ve always cared a
bout you, Belinda. You seem dissatisfied and let’s be honest, I’m pretty ambitious. Sometimes a mentor can get you going in the right direction.”
“My best friend is pretty successful. If I want to be mentored, I’ll ask her.”
Lance shrugged. “Sydney may be your best friend, but she’s not really rubbing off on you or you’d be busy doing the things you said you wanted to do.” He stood. “I’ll be in touch, Bells. It was good to see you.” He made rapid steps to reach the door.
A baby cried in the background. A group of teenagers from Port Charlotte high school clowned around at a table across from her, but Belinda tuned them out. She felt like a pawn. No, more like a bug caught in a vicious spider’s web. Lance’s visit had left her emotions raw and open.
She gathered her purchase, dumped the trash, and left the mall.
During her drive home, she grappled with fresh memories of her night with Lance. He was right. She’d enjoyed it. She could still hear her enthusiastic responses to his touch.
Why had she done it? Why had she betrayed her best friend in the world? Belinda shook her head. She didn’t know why. Lance was a tick—a flea—and she’d slept with him. What did that make her?
Belinda’s tires screeched as she swerved into the driveway. She entered her two-bedroom home and tossed her purchase on the couch. Her father had hired a decorator who had chosen bold one-of-a-kind pieces to reflect Belinda’s style. It was a nice blend of old-meets-new. Her mother’s dolls and paintings depicting Jamaica’s vibrant culture were mixed in with pieces showing her Puerto Rican heritage.
She lived in the guesthouse on the same land as her father’s house near the beach on Harbor Boulevard. Vincent Santiago owned another home in Boca Grande. He and Belinda spent time there most weekends. Peering through the windows, Belinda could see the main light was on in the house, which meant her father was probably up and reading. She usually visited with him, but right now she was too anxious. She dropped the blinds and paced the room.
Her heart pounded. Sydney had been a loyal, faithful friend. She couldn’t lose her over a momentary stop down devil’s lane. She’d finally forgiven herself and now Lance had returned to stir the ashes of her fiery past.
Tell Me Lies Page 5
