“But it’s not going to be easy. I will need your help.”
Every woman in the room nodded, seeming eager to hear how they could play a part in this fantastic program.
“I will work with planning committees in whichever communities and churches you decide. I will personally consult with you to set up these centers.”
The women applauded again.
“And, we will need money.” Jasmine paused because she wanted to make sure that every eye in the ballroom was on her for this announcement. “We will need money,” she repeated. “And that’s why, to get this program started, my husband Pastor Hosea Bush and I will personally donate one … million … dollars!”
Because Jasmine had purposely designed this reception with just tables and a few chairs, the women were already on their feet. But the way they applauded and cheered—it felt like a standing ovation.
“And let me be clear,” Jasmine continued through the cheers of approval, “this is a personal donation. It has nothing to do with the money that my husband will speak about at the program tomorrow night. This is in addition to anything that has been raised by the Northern region.”
On her left, Cecelia beamed. Jasmine’s glance wandered to Mae Frances, who still stood at the back of the room, but now with eyes wide.
Well, yes, she’d just improvised that million dollars part. She and Hosea didn’t have one million dollars to give to anybody’s cause. But she’d been involved in a couple of major fund-raising projects for their church; she could do that again. She’d raise a million dollars easily. Plus, would anyone even really remember this million-dollar promise a week from now? This was all about this moment.
When the applause died down, Jasmine said, “The reason I wanted to announce this here, this morning, is that I didn’t want to take away from the message that we will hear from our speaker at lunch today, the fabulous Lady Cecelia King.”
Again applause, and Jasmine noted that the claps for Cecelia were not as loud as before. Had the torch already been passed? Were these women already looking to her as their new leader?
“So again, I thank you for coming out and for standing by me as we take care of our children. I hope I get the opportunity to work with each and every one of you very soon.”
Cecelia hugged Jasmine as she stepped away from the podium, holding her long enough so that Jasmine knew that Cecelia approved. The two held hands as they descended the stairs and then stepped into the crowd of waiting first ladies, who greeted them with approval and well-wishes.
“You have my support, Mrs. Bush.”
“God bless you, Lady Jasmine.”
“What an amazing testimony. You are an amazing woman.”
And then through the tidal wave of accolades, Jasmine heard the shout, “Mama!”
The crowd parted as Jacqueline ran into her mother’s arms. “Hi, baby,” she said, hugging her.
It had been timed perfectly. As Jasmine was winding down her speech, Mae Frances called the suite and Mrs. Sloss brought the children to the reception.
“Oh!” many gasped. “Is this … your little girl?”
Jasmine nodded with pride. The women spoke words that Jasmine already knew. “She’s beautiful.” “She’s blessed.” “You must be so proud.”
“Thank you,” Jasmine said as she held Jacqueline’s hand and led her through the mass. But it was hard to move with so many women crowded around, with the way so many wanted to shake her hand and give Jacqueline a hug.
This was one part of the plan that Jasmine had not been too sure of. She loved her children too much to use them, but Mae Frances had assured her that there was nothing wrong with the women seeing Jacqueline to help them understand the importance of Jacqueline’s Hope.
“If they need to see Jacqueline in order to be moved to do the right thing and make Hosea the president, so that they can have these centers, then we need to let them see her. It’s not like you’ll be parading her up on the stage. It’ll look like she just happened to show up.”
But as Jasmine eased toward the doors, it felt a bit like Jacqueline was on the stage. Now she prayed that her seven-year-old wouldn’t be hurt by all this.
She glanced down, and her daughter strutted by her side, her head high, her smile wide; she was beaming at the attention. She even had that little beauty-pageant-wave thing going on, and Jasmine couldn’t have been more proud.
This was amazing on so many levels. It had taken a good year for Jacqueline to feel safe around anyone besides her immediate family. Her therapy sessions—which still continued—were obviously working.
But the truth was, Jacqueline Bush was her daughter. What else was to be expected?
“Thank you,” Jasmine kept saying as she and Jacqueline glided toward the door.
The first ladies followed Jasmine as if she were leading them to the Promised Land, but when she stepped into the hall, Jasmine bumped into the only first lady who hadn’t received a personal invitation to the reception.
Rachel glared at Jasmine, her eyes on fire with fury.
The two women stared each other down, locked in a silent showdown.
Which was why neither one of them noticed Cecelia King, off to the side, sipping grape apple cider, and watching. And, as the Jasmine-Rachel battle continued, Cecelia’s lips spread into a slow smile.
Chapter
TEN
Thank God she was somewhat saved. Because the evil thoughts racing through Rachel’s mind right about now would definitely get her ticket to Heaven revoked.
This heifer thought she was slick. She almost pulled it off without Rachel even knowing about it, but then Rachel had heard two ladies in the elevator talking about it and inconspicuously followed them to the banquet room. How long has this thing been planned? Rachel thought as she peeked into the room. With a waitstaff, decorations, and everything, this had to be something Jasmine was plotting all along.
Rachel had stood by the door and listened for a little bit. She’d wanted to go in so badly, but she refused to give Jasmine the satisfaction. Plus, she didn’t want to be embarrassed or called out, so she just stood outside listening to the whole dog and pony show. The applause was sickening. But when Jasmine played the my-daughter-was-kidnapped card for sympathy, Rachel was appalled. Even Rachel wouldn’t sink that low.
Oh, and of course, there was that whole grandiose pledge. A million dollars? Yeah, Rachel’s research revealed that the Bushes had money, but she didn’t think they had it like that. Jasmine knew doggone well they didn’t have a million dollars to just give away.
Rachel ducked out of sight when she saw a woman approaching with Jacqueline. When they passed, she peeked her head through the door again and saw the group of women parting like Moses and the Red Sea as Jacqueline ran into her mother’s arms.
“Oh, good grief,” Rachel mumbled. “And cue child running in, three, two, one …”
Rachel had had enough. She made her way around to the front entrance, where the obviously planned reunion was taking place. She’d just made it to the hall when she came face-to-face with Jasmine.
“Well, hello, Rachel,” Jasmine said, a big grin across her face. “I was wondering why you weren’t at the reception.”
“I would have been there, had I known about it,” Rachel said, trying to contain the anger building in the pit of her stomach. She was about to go off until she realized there was a small crowd of women growing behind Jasmine. Instead, she was blessed with an inspiration.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway. I was upstairs in a conference call with Regina West,” Rachel said sweetly.
“The Academy Award–winning actress Regina West?” someone behind Jasmine said.
Rachel’s smile widened. “The one and only.”
The chatter heightened. “Oh, my God. We’ve been trying to get her to do something with us for years,” someone said.
“I just love her.”
“She’s phenomenal but very elusive.”
�
�You know Regina West?”
“Yes.” Rachel nodded. She didn’t even know who had asked the question. “Regina used to be a member”—she looked Jasmine in the eyes—“of our little church. Of course, that’s before she went and took Hollywood by storm.”
“So you really know Regina West?” Jasmine asked skeptically.
Rachel could understand her skepticism. Regina West was only the hottest actress in Hollywood—black or white. Last year, she’d surpassed Angelina Jolie as the highest-paid actress. She’d been the only black woman ever to win two Academy Awards. “Yes, she’s a dear family friend. She and I actually were talking about this fantastic program I’d like to start on women empowerment, empowering women mentally, physically, and financially—that is of course, if I were to become first lady.”
Rachel wanted to jump for joy as the women left Jasmine’s side and hurried over to bombard her with more questions about Regina.
“Ms. King,” Rachel said, waving to Cecelia, who was standing off to the side, taking all of this in. “Regina would like to meet with you personally in the near future. She’s a fan and said she’d love to do some work with you.”
Cecelia looked pleasantly flattered. “Of course.”
“I’ll have her people get with your assistant to set something up after the conference.” Rachel didn’t want to remind them again that Lester had to win first, but she could tell by the looks on the women’s faces that it was a fact many of them duly noted.
“I must get going,” Rachel said, relishing Jasmine’s silent fury. Steal Jasmine’s shine. Checkmate. This couldn’t have worked out better had she planned it. “I need to make another call before the luncheon.”
“Another famous person?” someone asked.
“We’ll just have to wait and see.” Rachel winked as she waved and rounded the corner. She wanted to turn cartwheels down the hallway. But she couldn’t get too excited just yet. She ducked into the stairwell, whipped out her cell phone, and punched in a number.
“Hey, Daddy,” she said, when her father, Reverend Simon Jackson, answered.
“Hey, baby girl. How’s the conference going for you?”
“It’s great. You think you’re going to feel up to coming?” she asked. Her father had been battling prostate cancer. It was in remission, but his doctor had severely limited his activity.
“I am. Jonathan and David wanted to come with me so they could support you and Lester, but Jonathan has to work and David, well, we have a little crisis here with David.”
“Crisis? What kind of crisis?”
“Your brother’s crazy ex has been showing up around here, acting a fool, talking about wanting to see D.J.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “When did Tawny get out jail?” There wasn’t a motherly bone in that crackhead’s body, so if she was coming around, she had to want something. Tawny had been the whole reason David had gotten hooked on drugs. Luckily, David eventually dropped her and tried to get his life together. Too bad he’d had a child with that nutcase. Everything worked out, though, because David got custody of D.J. after Tawny was arrested for trying to run down Rachel with her car.
Simon tsked. “I guess she just got out. I don’t know. I just know David is doing so well and we finally got some stability in my grandson’s life. I just don’t want her coming around messing things up.”
Rachel shuddered at the thought of Tawny causing any havoc in their lives. Jasmine would have some kind of field day with that. No, David and his drama needed to stay right there in Houston.
“Well, you tell David to stay there and handle that crazy girl, and you and Brenda can come on.”
“We will. We actually leave in the morning after my doctor’s appointment. We’ll be there in time for the election.”
“Okay, great,” Rachel said hurriedly, ready to shift the conversation back to the real reason she called. “Well, look, I need a favor before you come.”
“Anything, sweet pea.”
“Whew, glad you said that.” Rachel took a deep breath. “I need you to call Regina West.”
“Who?”
“Regina, you know the actress.”
“Call her for what? I haven’t talked to her since I baptized her.”
“Yeah, but you baptized her. That has to count for something.”
Simon let out a long sigh, like he knew Rachel had gotten caught up in another drama. “Rachel, Regina and her family moved away when the girl was five. What do I look like calling her after all this time?”
“But you still talk to her father.”
“Occasionally. They visit the church whenever they’re home, but it’s been almost a year since we spoke.”
“Well, now’s the perfect time. I mean, really, you’re the reason the girl is going to Heaven.”
“Rachel, that’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. You introduced her to God, so she owes you.” Rachel exhaled in desperation. “Daddy, I really need you to do this for me.”
He was quiet; then, “Rachel, what have you gotten yourself into?”
Rachel could hear her father’s disapproval in his voice. She’d have to listen to him lecture later, but right now she needed him to act.
“Please, Daddy?” She hesitated. She hated to guilt him into anything, but she was desperate. “You know when I was growing up, you—”
“Okay, fine,” he said, cutting her off. He knew she was about to remind him how he hadn’t supported her or anything she wanted to do her entire life. He’d tried to get much better over the last few years and make up for all the time he neglected her for the church. “I’ll call Allen today and see if he can have Regina call me.”
“Thank you, Daddy. You’re the best! You guys have a safe trip. Can’t wait to see you so we can celebrate our win.”
“Fine, Rachel. We’ll see you tomorrow night. And can you just stay out of trouble?”
“Trouble? What’s that?” She laughed. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, baby girl.”
Rachel hung up the phone and leaned back against the wall. Things looked shaky for a minute, but now everything was falling into place. If that wasn’t a sign that they were destined to win, she didn’t know what was.
Chapter
ELEVEN
Would you calm down, Jasmine Larson?” Mae Frances demanded.
But there was no way for Jasmine to do that. Not with what had transpired twenty minutes ago still so fresh in her mind. She couldn’t believe the trick that trick had pulled.
“You know she doesn’t know Regina West,” Jasmine fumed as she paced the length of the master bathroom in Jasmine’s hotel suite where she and Mae Frances were hiding out. They were alone—with little time before the luncheon, but Jasmine needed these moments, away from everyone else, to calm down.
Mrs. Sloss had taken the children back to their suite and Hosea was at a meeting with Pastor Griffith and the Northern delegation, preparing for tomorrow’s budget presentation. Jasmine had no doubt that if points were being kept, Hosea would blow out Lester Adams tomorrow; the money that had been raised by the North was staggering. So her plan had been to take care of today … and all the women who would be influencing their husbands.
And she’d handled her business, until Rachel entered and stole her thunder with that gigantic lie.
Jasmine said, “I would bet any amount of money that she’s only seen that woman on a movie screen.”
“That’s probably true.” Mae Frances leaned against the marble counter and folded her arms, patiently waiting for Jasmine’s rant to end.
“And now she has all those wives believing that she can give them something that will never happen.” Jasmine’s hands sliced through the air with each word. “That was nothing but a stunt.”
“Kind of like your million-dollar stunt?”
Jasmine turned her fiery eyes on her friend. “Whose side are you on, Mae Frances? Because if you—”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Mae Frances said, cut
ting off her friend before Jasmine got too indignant. “First of all, who cares about Regina West? You know I know everybody from Al Sharpton to Stevie Wonder, so if she wants to play the who-knows-who game, we’ll stomp her with that.”
Mae Frances was speaking nothing but the truth. But still, Rachel was the first one to pull a celebrity out of her hat. Anyone she and Mae Frances came up with now would make Jasmine look like the follower, not the leader.
Mae Frances added, “And you knew this was going to be a fight from the moment Preacher Man was offered this opportunity, or else you wouldn’t have come to me.”
That pissed her off. Did Mae Frances really think that she couldn’t pull this off without her? Jasmine pressed her lips together and swallowed the words that she wanted to say—that Mae Frances shouldn’t think too highly of herself. That she could’ve done all of this without Mae Frances’s help. But since they both knew that wasn’t true, Jasmine sucked in air and instead said, “Well, since I came to you, do you have any more bright ideas?”
Mae Frances raised one eyebrow, then shook her head slightly just to let Jasmine know that she was totally unaffected by her little tantrum. “Don’t lose it now, Jasmine Larson. You know Pastor Griffith and I have something big that we’re saving, but we’re not even there yet. You’re forgetting the major plan for today.” She paused, then reminded her, “Today is about the luncheon.”
I must be getting soft, Jasmine thought to herself.
It had been a long time since she’d schemed like this, and clearly she’d lost some of her edge, because Rachel had totally thrown her off her game. That was the only way she could explain how she’d forgotten about the rest of today’s plan. She didn’t need to be up in this suite ranting; she and Mae Frances needed to get downstairs to set the rest of this day in motion.
“I’d almost forgotten,” Jasmine said, turning to the mirror. She finger-fluffed her curls, then reached for her makeup kit. “You think we can really pull this off?”
Mae Frances glanced at Jasmine in the mirror and smirked. “We’re dealing with Rachel Adams, aren’t we? She’s young and dumb. She’s so eager to impress these women that she’s going to jump at the bait. Trust me.”
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