The Love Script, page 19
Lord, please tell me what to do.
He’d keep praying until he had clear direction because he didn’t want to mess up his career or his relationship.
Twenty-Five
I had an interview. Relief—and anticipation—held my heart in its hands as I drove toward Hollywood. A studio there had an open stylist position on a Netflix movie. My nerve endings were doing a happy dance at the idea of working on a movie set again. It seemed like forever since I’d been involved with one. Hopefully this one had blockbuster potential.
The smog wasn’t so bad today, and a cool breeze was keeping the stifling temps from making me melt. All in all, it was a good July day. Until my phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Yes, can I speak to Nevaeh Richards, please?”
“Speaking.” I frowned, trying to figure out who the caller was. I hadn’t seen an ID on my phone but noticed the 213 area code.
“Hi, this is Nat Fine with Wonder Studios. You’re scheduled for a two o’clock appointment, and I need to cancel that.”
My heart dropped to my toes. “Why?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, when can we reschedule?”
“Unfortunately, the position has been filled. I’m sorry to cancel last minute.”
Considering I’d be arriving in twenty minutes, last minute was an understatement. I wanted to rail but swallowed down my irritation instead. “All right.”
“Thank you for being so gracious. Have a great day.”
Ugh. Way to guilt me with the term gracious. I glared at my phone, then realized the green light wouldn’t give me any time to pout at the traffic signal.
“Now what?” I asked out loud.
Should I just call the rest of the day a personal one and forget about job hunting? What to do, what to do?
I dialed Ms. Rosie.
“Nevaeh, how are you?”
“Not bad. I had an appointment that canceled and wondered if you had some free time? Maybe we could hang out?”
“What did you have in mind?”
I relayed my thoughts, and she agreed to the plan. So I made a U-turn at the next legal spot. Hopefully Ms. Rosie would enjoy our outing, and I could get to know her a little better outside of our regular appointments. When she’d first asked to have lunch, I’d been excited, then hurt, so I’d put her off. Now that Lamont and I had committed to dating for real, I was excited once more to get closer to Ms. Rosie. Plus, her company would take my mind off the situation with Nora, who’d acted shocked and affronted when I’d informed her that I’d be moving out. I couldn’t care less. Our friendship was over as far as I was concerned. Now I could only pray Nora would have some kind of honor and not seek out reporters anyway.
I drove up the hills, stopping to grab some lunch for two, then continued until I reached Mission Hills, where the San Fernando Rey de España mission stood. The building had been erected in 1797 and maintained many historical architectural features that marked it as a mission of old.
I scanned the lot, looking for Ms. Rosie’s vehicle. A white Mercedes pulled into the lot, parking beside my vehicle. Lamont’s mom beamed at me as she stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Nevaeh!” She squeezed me in a hug, and my heart overflowed.
And my eyes tried to as well. I sniffed silently to ensure nothing would give me away, then pulled back.
“Thank you for joining me,” I said.
“Of course. I’m so excited about this.”
I held up the takeout. “Want to sit and eat before exploring?”
“Yes.”
We walked across the street to Brand Park and sat at a picnic table.
“I’m so thankful for the breeze today,” Ms. Rosie stated.
“Me too.” I unpacked the lunch, sliding a food container in front of her. “I remembered you said you liked Mexican-Asian fusion food, so I got you some bulgogi tacos.”
“With kimchi?” Her brown eyes lit up.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” She shook her body left and right, pumping her arms up in the air.
I laughed. “Glad I made the right choice.”
“Let me say grace.”
I bowed my head.
“Heavenly Father, thank You for this time with dear Nevaeh. I pray that You would bless her coming and going and bless her with abundant plans for her life. I also pray You would bless her relationship with my son and give them wisdom to navigate those waters. And last, please help our relationship deepen in new ways. Amen.”
I sniffed. “Amen.”
“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
My head shot up. “I’m not crying.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not. I promise. But it did touch my heart.” I pointed to the offender making my emotions change faster than permed hair that had just been doused with water.
“I hope you know I’ve been praying for you since you came into my life.”
I stilled. “You have?”
“You bet. You don’t pray for me?”
“Of course I do.” I paused, shaking my head. “Which, I mean . . . I guess I’m just surprised you do the same for me. You’re the client, you’re the one who gets pampered.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not that special.”
“But you are, dear.” She reached across the table and squeezed my fingers. “Lamont finally sees it. I already knew it. And God was the one who designed you to be the way you are.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. What was it today that had the waterworks so close? It was as if God knew I needed to hear those words. I’d been living in a world that had picked me apart on a daily basis for being less-than. For not being famous. For not being the right size. For not being as committed in faith. Apparently, some people thought my social media presence wasn’t Christian enough. Those last comments made closing my accounts easier, and after a week of silence in that arena, I didn’t have as much sadness as I’d imagined.
“Thank you, Ms. Rosie.”
“You ready to call me Rosie yet?” A sly grin covered her brown face. “Or should we move on to Mom?”
My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “Rosie I can do. Jury’s still out on that second one.”
“Then I’ll work on my son in that area.”
I tilted my head, studying Lamont’s mom. “Do you think our dating is a good idea?”
“It’s a mother’s dream to see her son with a good woman. I couldn’t be happier.” Her expression turned serious. “But please don’t hurt him. Just because he has a nice house, too many cars, and a glamorous job doesn’t mean he’s imperviable to harm, especially in this industry.”
I thought about his breakup with Diva, the little tidbits he’d shared here and there. His life had been tumultuous with her. Could I bring him peace? Could we go the distance?
Ms. Rosie and I cleaned up our trash and headed back across the street to the mission. The archways on the long building beckoned me in. We decided to skip the museum areas with their beams filling the ceiling and headed straight for the chapel.
Goosebumps pebbled my flesh as I stepped into the sanctuary. How did the mission feel so holy? Like God was sitting here, waiting to meet someone? Tension seeped from my shoulders as I sat in the middle of the pew, Ms. Rosie following suit.
“Can you imagine going to church in the 1800s?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I still find it difficult to go today.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t feel His presence like I do right now. Here, there are no distractions. Just me and the Lord and my thoughts.”
“Mm-hmm. I can see that. But at local churches . . . ?”
I sighed. “I’m distracted by the people. What they look like, if they’re judging me. Not to mention what the music sounds like, how the sermon is preached, et cetera. I’m so focused on what I can get.” I sat back, stunned by the revelation.
“That makes sense. After all, most of us attend church to be fed. We want to be filled by the atmosphere, and we forget we’re there to worship God, not the other way around.”
Quiet descended between us as I reflected on Ms. Rosie’s wisdom. Was this why I could never find the “perfect” church? I expected the local churches to cater to my needs. To have people who looked like me, thought like me, and worshipped like me. Yet God’s people had always been diverse. His heart was for all nations. Even though I knew that mentally, I’d failed to recognize the fact in my heart when searching for a place to visit each week.
Lamont’s church had nice music, and the preaching gave me something to think about. But no matter where we sat, people near us would dart their gazes our way more than once. At first, I thought I’d been imagining things, but it became quite obvious they were paying more attention to us than to the pastor preaching. Lamont was able to ignore the looks, but for me, they were another con of going to church.
“Why do you attend the church you do, Ms. Rosie?” I didn’t know exactly where she went, just knew it wasn’t the same place as Lamont.
“I’ve made a lot of friendships over the years with the women there. They were there to make Lamont and me meals when I was going through chemo. They were there when I had the double mastectomy. Any time I need prayer, they will respond with a text, and I know they’re lifting me to the Lord. So long story short . . . community.”
Community. Had I ever felt like I truly belonged?
“Aren’t we in community with the Lord?”
“We are, but He wants more for us. He wants us to be part of the body of Christ, being His hands and feet on earth. We need others to function properly. When we go it alone, we miss the help when we’re in need and being a blessing when we are prospering. Alone, we’re just an individual constantly seeking to belong. And that can lead us on some very dangerous paths.”
She was right, and I wasn’t too prideful to admit that it stung. I’d been avoiding community—church—because I didn’t want to be different from others. Because I never felt like I belonged. And I needed to figure out why.
Until I got a clue, I’d keep seeking answers.
Twenty-Six
He lit the two candles on the other side of the pizza box. Tonight, he and Nevaeh would have a relaxing evening at his house with a movie on for background noise . . . or maybe they would actually watch it. It depended on how she took the news of the Cannon Industries offer.
His phone pinged, and he pulled up the text from Tuck.
Tuck
I need help.
Lamont
What’s up?
Chris
Everything okay?
Tuck
Piper wants me to train her horse for the Derby.
Lamont
Don’t you already train for the McKinneys?
Tuck
Not for her parents, for her.
Chris
I have so many questions.
Lamont
Same. Will the McKinneys have a problem with that?
Tuck
She wants me to work solely for her if I say yes.
Lamont
😬
Chris
What are you going to do? Is this something you even want to do?
Tuck
She’s my best friend. Shouldn’t I help her?
Chris
Pray
Lamont
Agreed. If God wants you to go this direction, He’ll make it clear. I get wanting to help a friend, but she’s not asking you to just do something part-time. Sounds like she wants a full commitment from you.
Tuck
That’s what makes this so difficult. The McKinneys have been good to me. I can’t just quit and leave.
Lamont
You can if God tells you to.
Chris
What Lamont said.
Tuck
Enough of my woes. What’s up with you two?
Chris
Same ol’, same ol’.
Lamont
Waiting for Nevaeh to come over so I can share more details about the movie offer.
Chris
Praying, brother.
Tuck
Likewise.
The doorbell rang, so Lamont texted ttyl, then shoved the phone into his back pocket. He swung the door open and grinned. Nevaeh stood there wearing a T-shirt that read Licensed to Carry with a pair of hair scissors on the shirt.
“That’s perfect for you.”
“I was tempted to buy you one that said, ‘Who needs hair with a body like this,’ but I figured being Mr. SMA was enough to enlarge your ego.”
Lamont threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He tugged her close, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She squeezed him back, nuzzling her nose in the crook of his neck. “Me too.”
“You hungry?”
“‘I could eat.’”
“Should we watch Antwone Fisher with dinner?”
“Too sad.”
“But it has an uplifting ending.”
“True.” She pulled back. “Feed me, handsome.”
Lamont interlaced their fingers and headed to the living room. “Happy to.” He opened the cardboard box, plated a slice of pizza, and passed it to Nevaeh. “Your BBQ chicken pizza as requested.”
“My hero.” She bit into the slice, eyes closing with pleasure. “This is heavenly.”
“Think they’ll serve pizza in heaven?”
“I’d really like a taste of manna. I can’t help but think it’s the best bread around.”
He chuckled. After taking a bite, he spoke up. “So, uh, Monica contact you lately?”
“Nope.” Nevaeh popped her lips with the word. “An insider told me there are still people trying to get a glimpse of me. I don’t think this will go in my favor.”
“I might have a solution.”
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded. “On Monday, I met with the owner of Cannon Industries and the movie director, which is when the solution presented itself.” He shook his head. “Let me back up. There’s good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?”
Nevaeh wiped her mouth. “Bad. Everyone knows the good news helps you recover from the bad.”
“‘Alrighty then.’”
“Ace Ventura,” they said at the same time.
Lamont laughed. “It was an unintentional movie quote.”
“Likely story but continue.” She smirked. “What’s the bad news?”
“We’ll be filming outside of the country for six months, and since the company has a morality clause in the contract, you won’t be allowed to visit, so we’d have to continue our relationship long-distance.”
Her mouth dropped and relief filled Lamont. So she did feel awful about it too. “I tried to contest, but they said even if you stayed in your own place, people might assume you came all that way to do more than have dinner with me.”
She said nothing, and worry tinged his heart. “You can see why I objected, right?” he asked.
“Six months without seeing each other in person?” she repeated slowly.
Lamont gave a slow nod, palms beginning to sweat.
“What’s the good news?” Nevaeh asked cautiously.
“Otto, the director, is willing to look at your portfolio for a possible set stylist position.”
Surprise widened her eyes. “Then we’d be able to see each other. No need for the long-distance drama.”
“Well, uh”—he scratched at his face—“that kind of falls into the bad news category once more.”
Her eyebrows contorted. “Explain.”
“CI has a no-dating policy between staff—that includes actors.”
“But we’re already dating.”
Part of him wanted to cheer that she voiced his same complaints, as if they were already becoming a team. Them versus the world, so to speak. “Believe me, I brought that fact up. Unfortunately, they don’t want to give anyone preferential treatment.”
She balled up her napkin, a glare on her face. “That stinks, Mr. SMA. Why can’t you use your star power to get them to change their minds?”
“Otto said if he changed the rules for me, he’d have to do it for everyone.”
“Ugh. Doesn’t he realize he works with adults and not children?” She leaned forward. “I thought you said there was good news.”
“You’d have a job?” He resisted the urge to fidget.
“But I wouldn’t be able to hang out with my boyfriend. How could I see you at work every day and not act like we’re a couple? What if I wanted to sit with you and talk—would they consider that a date?”
Lamont thought it was adorable how her bottom lip poked out just enough to be noticed. He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry it’s not completely good news.”
“What did Bryan say about it all?”
“Bryan was extra difficult.” He explained how his agent interjected during the meeting and made it sound like Lamont would jump at a chance to work with them under any circumstances.
“I mean, I get it. He’s your agent and trying to make you look good.” Nevaeh nudged his side. “Plus, he’s ensuring he keeps getting a piece of the pie.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to build up someone’s expectations if I plan on turning them down.”
She pulled back, studying him. “Am I the only reason you’d say no?”
He thought about it. If Lamont weren’t with Nevaeh, he couldn’t see a reason to turn down the job. Was that a bad thing? Shouldn’t you be willing to let some things go for the right people?
“I am the only reason, aren’t I?”
“Well, yeah,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to go six months without seeing you, Nevaeh. That sounds absolutely ridiculous when I say it out loud. Besides, they know my stance on relationships. The world knows we won’t cross the line. If I end up staying at a local hotel instead of renting a place, you could simply stay at a different hotel.”
“Except the perception of that lands us right back with the snaparazzi and that pic that started this all.”
“True.”
“Maybe you should just visit me here when you can.”
He shook his head. “They want us near the set per the contract.”
“Ugh.” Her head fell back against the sofa cushion.
