Sinners & Saints

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  “Okay,” Lester said, like he desperately wanted to believe her.

  “You know, I’m getting sick of you always thinking the worst of me.” She stuck her lips out as she folded her arms across her chest.

  Lester sighed, then pulled her close to him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just know how bad you want to win this, and well, I know you know a trick or two.”

  “You said you wanted to win fair and square, so, fine.” She wiggled out of his grasp. “But if you ask me, you act like you don’t want to win this at all.”

  “Of course I want to win, but I think God has already ordained who He wants to have that spot.”

  Rachel wanted to strangle him. “Faith without works, Lester. Faith without works!”

  “I am very well aware of the verse,” he replied. “But I’m tired of this discussion. Let’s just let this unfold how it’s supposed to unfold. Now, come on, we have to get back inside. You know tongues are already wagging.”

  Rachel didn’t protest as she followed her husband back into the room. She hated the way she was now the one being watched. People were staring at her like they were trying to figure out if she was capable of hiring a stripper to come in and lie on the Bushes. Everything in her gut told her that Alize wasn’t lying, and Rachel couldn’t understand why everyone wanted to give Jasmine the benefit of the doubt.

  Rachel tried her best to ignore their glares. She plastered on a smile and walked over to the table where their team was putting the finishing touches on the presentation.

  Rachel saw the Bushes making their way back to the front. Jasmine’s smug and confident attitude got under Rachel’s skin. Earlier, the Kings had sat with them. Now they were back with the Bushes. This whole politicking thing was working Rachel’s last nerve. She was tired of kissing Cecelia’s behind, going back and forth with that trick Jasmine, and she was tired of fighting this battle on her own because her husband, Dudley Do-Right, wanted to win “fair and square.”

  But Rachel had never been a quitter and she wasn’t about to start now.

  “All right, everyone,” the conference chairwoman said, taking the podium. “If we can get everyone to go ahead and take their seats, we’ll pick up with our budget presentations, before dismissing you so you can go grab lunch.”

  Lester and Rachel made their way back up to the front as Cecelia and her husband laughed with the Bushes like they were old friends. Rachel wasn’t the only one watching. Several people in the audience were taking note of the comfortable relationship as well, and Rachel didn’t want the members of the ABC to feel like Hosea Bush was a natural choice to succeed Reverend King just because they were so buddy-buddy.

  She wished Lester were more aggressive. At the start of the meeting this morning, he should’ve been the one to stand up and profess his love of God first. And if he had to confess their affair, he should’ve done it before Hosea talked about his and Jasmine’s personal issues. The way it had gone down made Lester seem like he was following the leader.

  The chairwoman called the meeting back to order and Rachel’s mind churned constantly as the North made its budget presentation. It was ridiculous, the amount of money they’d raised. She had to give them props on their fund-raising. Well, at least mentally. She wasn’t about to say anything out loud. Suddenly, it dawned on her what she hadn’t heard during the North’s budget presentation. But it was too late to tell Lester. He was already making his way to the podium because it was their turn to speak.

  “Wow, I almost hate to follow that presentation, that’s such phenomenal fund-raising,” Lester said jokingly as chuckles reverberated throughout the room. Rachel tried her best not to roll her eyes.

  Lester continued, “Even so, I am proud to present the budget from the Southern division of the American Baptist Coalition.” Lester went through the fifteen-minute presentation, listing the money they’d raised and how. Even though the presentation was more detailed, packaged much better, and presented in layman’s language, the bottom line remained: they’d raised just a portion of what the North had raised.

  But the bigger problem was that Lester wasn’t even bothering to address the elephant in the room that Rachel saw clearly. Oh, good grief, Rachel thought as she discreetly grabbed her purse, pulled out her checkbook, and scribbled out a check. Then she stood and walked over to the podium.

  Lester eyed her with confusion. He probably was worried that she was about to say something out of order.

  “Honey, may I say a word?” she asked sweetly. The way Lester gripped the mic, Rachel could tell that was the last thing he wanted, but he slowly stepped aside.

  “Good morning, everyone. My husband is a little modest, so I just wanted to add that we hope this is just the beginning of the funds we raise for the American Baptist Coalition.” She turned toward Jasmine and Hosea, who were seated in the front row on the other side of the podium. “Rev. Bush, I think it’s wonderful that you and Jasmine have decided to donate so generously.” Rachel placed a hand over her heart and smiled appreciatively. “And if we could, everyone, please give Rev. and Mrs. Bush another round of applause.” She led the clapping. “God has truly blessed them with an abundance of wealth. So much so that not only were they able to raise so much money, but in the women’s luncheon yesterday, Jasmine pledged one million dollars of their personal money to the American Baptist Coalition.” She paused as gasps filled the room—mostly from men who hadn’t heard the news.

  “Rev. Bush, I think it’s phenomenal that you all are willing to share your blessings,” Rachel continued as the applause died down. “Now, as you know, Zion Hill isn’t as prosperous as City of Lights Church.” She smiled at Hosea, who sat with his eyes wide, obviously stunned. Bingo! He didn’t have a clue that his wife had pledged a million dollars. Jasmine was visibly upset, but she kept her fake smile plastered on.

  “We can only hope that God will continue to bless our small church, well … if you call three thousand small,” she added with a smile as she glanced back out at the congregation. “We hope we can one day give so generously. I’m sure many of you can relate to our situation, since most of you have medium-size and small churches. So, I hope you understand why we can’t raise as much money, and personally, you’ll understand that there is no way in the world we can match the Bushes’ one-million-dollar donation. I know we all get so busy when we get back to our respective cities—that’s why I think we should leave our checks now.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Therefore, Lester and I would like to present a check for ten thousand dollars from our personal funds.” She hadn’t discussed making a personal donation with Lester, but it wasn’t like the ten grand would leave them homeless. Lester had a nice little trust fund from his parents and grandmother and he’d invested it wisely, so the donation wouldn’t break them. They were nowhere near millionaire status, but they could comfortably invest ten thousand in his race to be president. At least that’s what she would convince Lester of later.

  Rachel leaned down and handed the check to Reverend King, then turned her attention back to Jasmine. “Rev. and Mrs. Bush, I’m sure you’d like to present your million-dollar check as well?”

  “Ah-umm,” Hosea stumbled.

  Rachel narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Rev. Bush, is something wrong? I mean, surely your wife wouldn’t say you guys were giving a million dollars if you weren’t?”

  Jasmine suddenly stood. “Of course, we plan to give it. I wouldn’t have pledged it otherwise.”

  “Well, great! The treasurer can come get both of our checks.” All eyes turned to Jasmine, who was still standing next to her husband, looking like she wanted to disappear.

  Rachel wanted to break out in a cheer. Maybe things were turning around after all. Sure, the Bushes could probably come up with a million dollars, but from the astonished look that still blanketed Hosea’s face, it was definitely not something on their to-do list. Oh well, Rachel thought. Since Jasmine and her “megachurch mentality” wanted to fight dirty, then they were definitely
going to have to pay to play.

  The treasurer stood, a gigantic smile across his face as he made his way to the front. “Wow, this is unprecedented,” he mumbled to the sound of “Amen” and “God is good.” He took the check from Reverend King, then walked over and stood anxiously in front of the Bushes. Every eye in the room was on them. Hosea almost looked like he wanted to stand up and say something, but before he could, Jasmine snatched her purse off the pew, pulled out the checkbook, and wrote a check.

  Rachel was the first to clap as Jasmine handed the treasurer a check. She gave Jasmine a thumbs-up, and had to fight back a laugh at the look of pure anger on the woman’s face.

  Chapter

  FIFTEEN

  The arena was still humming with the news.

  Eyes were wide as pastors and their wives rushed to greet and congratulate Hosea and Jasmine, the golden couple who’d just contributed one million dollars to the Coalition out of their own account.

  Who did that sort of thing? so many of them asked one another. For sure, it was a done deal now. Hosea Bush would certainly become the president of the American Baptist Coalition.

  “That was just amazing.” Cecelia King beamed as she hugged Jasmine. “I know that’s what you pledged, but to write out a check, from your own account … and to do it today … in front of everyone.” She shook her head. “And ye shall serve the Lord your God and He shall bless your bread.” Cecelia paused. “Well, the Lord has most certainly blessed the Bushes.”

  Jasmine stepped back; the ache that was in her heart had made its way to her face and it was a pained, pasted-on smile that she wore. She nodded at the women who encircled her with their own words of amazement and congratulations. For a moment, her eyes focused on Rachel, standing on the edge of the circle, her arms crossed and a look of pure amusement shining on her face.

  Jasmine was going to kill that monkey-midget.

  But first, she had to survive her own murder—the one that was sure to come at the hands of her husband.

  Her eyes found Hosea, in the center of his own congratulatory circle. His face was stiff and hard, almost frozen with shock at what had just happened. Then he turned toward her and sent her a laser-sharp glare.

  “Excuse me,” she heard him say as he pushed his way through the crowd of men.

  Jasmine wanted to cut and run. But the only way she’d be able to outpace Hosea was if she ditched her brand-new Louboutins. And since that was never going to happen, she just stood firm and poised in those five-hundred-dollar red-bottom stilettos.

  Hosea grabbed her wrist and almost dragged her from the center of all of the attention. As the two scampered up the aisle, the crowd broke into spontaneous applause, which made Hosea’s steps quicken. He held her as if she were his child, and they pushed their way toward the elevator.

  Hosea jabbed the button with his fist and Jasmine flinched. When the elevator doors parted, it took a moment for Jasmine to step inside—did she really want to get in there with her husband alone?

  But then a glance over her shoulder told her that she was safe. Her father-in-law and Pastor Griffith were right behind them. They all stepped inside and there was silence among the four until the doors closed.

  Pastor Griffith spoke first. “I don’t like surprises,” he said. “I need to know everything so that we can time every move. I had no idea you two were making this kind of contribution.”

  “We’re not,” Hosea said before Jasmine could speak.

  The pastor’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

  Hosea said, “Can we talk about this later? I need to talk to … my wife first.”

  Pastor Griffith glanced at Jasmine. For the second day in a row, his eyes asked if she was trying to sabotage her husband on purpose?

  Pastor Griffith said, “Call me as soon as you can.”

  When the doors parted on the ninth floor, Reverend Bush asked, “Do you need me, son?”

  Hosea shook his head and Jasmine wished her father-in-law had asked her. But he hadn’t even looked her way before he stepped out and the elevator doors closed.

  Where is Mae Frances when I need her the most? Jasmine asked herself, though she knew her friend was in the hotel’s spa—taking advantage of a half-day massage and more that Jasmine had given to her as a surprise that morning. Now she wished that she could take that back and have Mae Frances standing at her side as her protector.

  But then she realized that she’d known her husband long enough, loved him deeply enough, to know exactly what he was going to say. His first words were going to be “What were you thinking?” and she would tell him everything. That this wasn’t her fault. That all blame could be laid with that wench Rachel.

  Jasmine stepped into their suite first, tossed her bag onto the sofa, then turned with a smile that was supposed to disarm Hosea. “Babe—”

  But he spoke before she could say anything more. “You’ve been a liar ever since I’ve known you, but now you’re a cheat?”

  What? His words were like a stun gun, paralyzing her. “What are you talking about, Hosea? I haven’t cheated anyone out of anything.”

  “How much money do you have in your account, Jasmine?” He cocked his head a bit. “You know, the account from which you just wrote a check for one million dollars?”

  Okay … she saw where this was going. “I know, I don’t have a million dollars in my account, but—”

  “But what?” His voice was low, but the volume didn’t hide his anger. “You just wrote a check, and by tomorrow morning the Coalition will know the check is not worth anything. You knowingly wrote a bad check.”

  “Okay, let me explain.”

  “Please do, and make it quick because I need to get down to the treasurer and let him know that he shouldn’t cash that check. I need to let everyone know.”

  “No! Don’t do that.”

  “Jasmine, you don’t have a million dollars! I don’t have a million dollars! We don’t have a million dollars, yet you pledged that to the Coalition. A personal pledge.”

  “I told you that I was going to speak to the first ladies about Jacqueline’s Hope.”

  He frowned. “You said you were going to start a foundation, that if I was elected, that would be your platform. Nowhere in the conversation did you mention it would cost us a million dollars.”

  “And it didn’t. And it’s not.”

  Hosea sat down on the couch. Folded his arms like arrows on his chest. “Explain this to me.”

  She sidled up to the couch, but decided to keep standing instead of easing down next to him. “It all happened so fast. I was telling the ladies about Jacqueline’s Hope and everyone was so excited and we started talking about funding or something … and I’m sure I said something about a million dollars, but not out of our money. I was going to raise it.”

  “Oh, really.”

  “Yes. You know how good I am at fund-raising. I must’ve said something about a million dollars being my goal.”

  “So, when Rachel Adams stood up, she had it wrong.”

  “Yes.”

  He waited for Jasmine to say something more, but when she didn’t, he asked, “Well, why didn’t you correct her?”

  “Because … because everybody was looking at us. And I didn’t want to make you look bad, because that’s all Rachel was trying to do.”

  He shook his head. “So, you don’t think we’re going to look bad now, when we tell them that check is going to bounce.”

  Now Jasmine eased down onto the couch. “First of all, I don’t think we have to say a thing.” When Hosea’s eyes widened, Jasmine said, “Let’s figure this out. They won’t be able to cash the check until sometime next week, and by then, I was thinking that we might be able to cover the check.”

  “Oh, this I’ve gotta hear.”

  She ignored his sarcasm and continued, “We have a million dollars, Hosea. Between our retirement accounts and the kids’ college funds …”

  He chuckled, though there was no humor in the sound. “You’re
telling me that you want to spend your children’s college money to cover up your lie.”

  “First of all, Hosea, I didn’t lie, because I had a plan. We won’t be spending their money. We’d just be using it—for now. And then we’ll have a fund-raiser and put the money from that back into our accounts.”

  Hosea lowered his eyes, shook his head.

  Jasmine released a long breath. Clearly, he wasn’t understanding what she was saying. “We’ll transfer the money on Monday, when we get back to New York, and in a month or two, we’ll replace it. All one million dollars. In fact, it will probably be more, because the last time I did that fund-raiser for the hospital annex, we raised one-point-seven million. That would be a seven-hundred-thousand-dollar profit for us. We’re going to come out ahead of this, Hosea.”

  She’d provided him with a solution, but Hosea glared at her as if there was still a problem.

  Hosea pushed himself off the sofa, then ambled toward the door.

  Jasmine jumped up behind him. “Where are you going?”

  He stopped and faced her. “I’m going to tell the treasurer to destroy that check. Then I’m going to stand up in praise and worship tonight and tell everyone that there’s been a mistake.”

  “You can’t do that, Hosea,” she said, on the verge of whining. “It could cost you the election.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if I even want this anymore.”

  She frowned, confused. “You’re so close … why would you want to walk away now?”

  “Because this election really has turned you into a cheat.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “Because now you’re talking about doing a fund-raiser and then putting the money into our bank accounts. That’s illegal, Jasmine!”