Too Little, Too Late, page 18
“Definitely. I’m happily married, faithful to my wife…now. Just need to talk to Jasmine for a minute.”
“Good, because she and Hosea are happy. No need for drama.”
“There won’t be any,” he said, and prayed that would be true.
“Then I’ll call her for you,” Malik said before he said good-bye.
For long minutes after he’d hung up, Brian sat, tormented by his questions. Why had Malik been so amiable? Had Jasmine told Malik that she wanted to speak to him? Had she been looking for him? And if she had, why?
Now he needed the same answers that his wife wanted.
Malik had said Jasmine and her husband were at the Fairmont. He called information, got connected to the hotel, and then asked for the Bushes. He said a quick prayer, and made a plan to hang up if Hosea answered.
“Hello.”
It wasn’t a warm greeting; she sounded frantic. “Jasmine?”
“Speaking.”
“Jasmine. This is Brian. Brian Lewis.”
He heard the phone fall to the floor and he knew that was a sign. He knew he was in trouble.
Jasmine and Hosea, Alexis and Brian
AUGUST 2006
“Give Me the Reason”
—LUTHER VANDROSS
FORTY-ONE
“JASMINE?”
She could hear him calling her through the phone, but all she could do was stare at the receiver that she’d hurled across the room.
“Jasmine?”
Deliver me from evil…
She picked up the telephone and squeezed the handset, hoping somehow that would choke the caller at the same time. She found her voice. “Brian, what do you want?”
“Are you all right?”
“What do you want?” she demanded to know.
“We need to talk.”
She could not believe this man was calling. Surely he remembered their last encounter in New York. When she was face-up on a stretcher being wheeled into an ambulance.
That should have been the end of him—of them.
“I know you’re surprised to hear from me.”
“That doesn’t even begin to explain it.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to be calling, but I have a reason.”
“You always do.” Her next move was to slam the phone down with enough force to cause major damage to his eardrum. Then he’d get the message that she—and her marriage—was not to be played with.
But before she could make that valiant move, he said, “I’m calling about the baby.”
Jasmine pressed the phone to her ear. Sank onto the bed. “What baby?” she asked as if she didn’t know.
“I need to see you.”
Jasmine tried to keep the trembling that threatened to make her drop the phone again out of her voice. “That’s not possible.”
“I know you’re here in Los Angeles.”
“How…“She stopped. It didn’t matter how he found her. All that mattered was getting this man off the phone; out of her life. So that she could get back to what was really important—slaying the other snake, Natasia, who was slithering through her backyard. “There’s no reason for us to get together.”
“I’m not trying to cause trouble, but I need to see you. Alone.”
She frowned. Thought about all the pain their trysts had brought her and the man she loved. Thought about how she’d almost lost Hosea because of Brian. “I cannot believe—”
He interrupted her tirade. “It’s not about that, Jasmine. I love my wife.”
“And I love my husband.”
“Then we’re in the same place. But I still need to see to you. And since I want to talk to you about the baby, I know you don’t want your husband there.”
Ah, she thought, this must be some kind of shake down. She couldn’t wait to blow up his plan.
He said, “This meeting can stay a secret, but we need to talk.”
“I don’t keep secrets from my husband.”
“You’ve kept this one—”
“What secret? The one where you’re Jacqueline’s father?”
She heard his deep gasp.
“He already knows.” She imagined his despair as his plan fell apart. But she felt no joy in this victory. She just wanted him off the phone.
“Why…did you tell your husband that?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“You had a paternity test?” It was his voice that trembled now. “Without me?”
“Didn’t need to. Hosea and I were never together while you and…” She closed her eyes, tried not to remember.
“So, I am—” he said.
“Jacqueline’s father,” she finished for him.
“Jacqueline.”
She was sorry she told him that. He didn’t need to know the name Hosea had chosen for their daughter.
“So,” she began, “your blackmail plan is dead before it got started.”
“Blackmail? That’s not why I called.”
“I don’t care why you did, but now that you know about my baby, you can just go about your business.”
“But, my wife. If Alexis finds out—”
“That’s your drama.” She slammed down the phone and prayed that would be the end.
Except it couldn’t be the complete end. With the way she was trying to live, she had to tell Hosea about this call. That was the deal—no more secrets, no more lies.
Except now, Hosea had a secret that felt a lot like a lie.
No! This wasn’t about Hosea. This was every bit Natasia—she could smell that slut all over this so-called business trip to Oakland. It was a standard skank ploy—tricking somebody else’s husband to be somewhere, without his wife, to be alone with you. It was a trap that she’d set herself, when she lived that scandalous life. She couldn’t count the number of times it worked.
Just like it worked for Natasia.
Jasmine grabbed the phone, dialed her husband’s cell. It went straight to voice mail. What was she supposed to say—get Natasia out of your bed? She left no message.
She hung up, dialed the hotel directly.
“May I speak with Hosea Bush?”
“Mr. Bush has checked out already.”
Glancing at the clock, she realized he was probably with Dr. Marshall—he’d said they were meeting first thing this morning—if that was even true.
She called Hosea’s phone again. Voice mail. And then again. Same thing.
There was only one thing left to do.
She dropped to her knees, leaned against the bed. “Lord, I don’t know what’s going on up there, but You know. Please, Lord, please, keep that hussy away from my husband.”
And then she did something that Mae Frances had advised her to do weeks ago.
“This prayer thing really works,” Mae Frances had said, as if she’d discovered something new. “All you have to do is pray three times—once for the Father, then the Son, and close it out with the Holy Ghost.”
So that’s what Jasmine did—prayed that prayer three times before she pushed herself from her knees. Now while God did His thing, Jasmine knew she had to do something too.
It didn’t matter that Natasia had a contract. Her happy behind needed to be on the curb by Monday. And no matter what excuse the two would come up with about what happened in Oakland, she was going to make it clear to Hosea that Natasia needed to crawl back to whatever sewer she had climbed out of. This time, Natasia was going, and Jasmine wasn’t going to accept any kind of no for an answer.
FORTY-TWO
HOSEA TIPTOED INTO THE SUITE, dropped the overnight bag next to the door, and then moved through the darkness. Careful not to make a sound, he sank onto the couch. And rested.
He had to—he was emotionally exhausted. He was on a roller coaster, a ride that had begun…with that kiss.
Last night, when he’d returned to his hotel room, he’d climbed into bed, drunk with thoughts of Natasia. And her lips. And her hands.
Then he thought about his wife. Thought about calling her. But didn’t want to call too late. Didn’t want to wake her. Didn’t want her to hear anything in his voice that would give her a clue that he was filled with guilt.
Although it wasn’t like he’d been unfaithful, not really. Natasia had kissed him. And he’d stopped her.
But he couldn’t stop the thoughts. Couldn’t stop wondering what could have happened. Almost wishing that it might, maybe, perhaps, somehow would happen again.
Then this morning Natasia had knocked on his door, and stepped into his space with confidence.
“We have to meet Dr. Marshall as a team,” she began, “and before we go to his offices, I wanted to apologize. About last night.”
He’d been nervous, shifted back and forth as if he was trying to be a moving target.
She continued, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. But it wasn’t me.”
He frowned, not understanding.
“It was the wine,” she said.
He’d said nothing, just watched her lips move.
“I wasn’t tryin’ to get with you or anything.” She continued, “I am very clear that it’s over between us.”
For the first time he wondered if that was what he really wanted.
“So, am I forgiven?”
He spoke his first words. “All is forgiven.”
“Thanks.”
“And forgotten.”
She laughed. Looked him up and down as if she didn’t believe that part.
From that point on, she’d acted professionally. On the car ride to Dr. Marshall’s office, she chatted as if she didn’t feel the heat between them. Inside the meeting, she talked as if there was nothing more on her mind than Dr. Marshall and his Street Soldiers. And as they left the building, she’d waved to someone waiting in a tinted-windowed Mercedes and told him, “Go on to the airport. I’m having dinner with a friend. May not get back to L.A. until tomorrow.” Then, she strolled away as if he’d never meant a thing to her.
Seemed like what she’d said was true—it was just the wine.
Seemed like what he’d said wasn’t true—all was not forgotten.
Why can’t I get her out of my mind?
“You’re back.”
He turned around and saw his wife’s silhouette in the doorway. Even in the dark, he could see the outline of her thighs, barely covered by her short nightgown. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he said softly. “Did I wake you?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been calling you all day.”
“Sorry. My phone was dead. I didn’t take my charger with me.” He reached for the light.
“Leave it off.” She stood over him, and they stared at each other before he pulled her onto his chest.
He sighed, relishing her familiar weight. “I missed you,” he whispered, and meant it. He kissed her and his hands glided over the satin that she wore. “I couldn’t wait to get back to you and Jacquie.”
“Is that because you couldn’t wait to get away from Natasia?” she asked, as if that was a normal question.
He froze as she stared into his eyes. Wondered if she was searching him for the truth. Wished that she would ask him nothing else.
His wish was not granted.
“Why did you lie about Natasia?”
He was as stiff as a statue. “I didn’t lie.”
“Was she in Oakland?”
He said, “Yes,” and was amazed that he could speak without breathing.
“Then it was a lie. No matter how it happened. Commission or omission, it was a lie.” Her voice stayed calm.
“I didn’t know she was going to be there,” he said, trying to be as cool as his wife.
“But once she got there—”
“I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d be worried.”
“It was worse when I found out from someone else. Then I was really worried. Imagined all kinds of things.”
Hosea had to fight to hold his gaze with hers. But he wanted her to look into his eyes, so she would see the truth. “I would never do anything with her. I would never do that to you.”
A beat. “I believe you.”
He exhaled. “But I am sorry. We promised no secrets. I should’ve told you the moment she got there.”
“Yes. You should have.”
“I will from now on.”
“No. You won’t. Because I want her gone, Hosea. I don’t care about the contract. I want her off your show.”
He was careful not to push her away as he sat up and turned on the light. Looked into her eyes, clearly now. “Jasmine, not only can I not do that, but there’s no reason—”
“There is.” Her voice rose a bit. “She tricked you, Hosea. Was there even a meeting?”
He nodded slowly, hating that he had to explain. Knowing that he needed to be patient. “We met with Joe Marshall all day.”
“Still, it was some kind of ploy. She’s crazy. She’s after you and will do anything she has to.”
He shook his head, trying not to remember the kiss. “It wasn’t Natasia. Dr. Marshall apologized for the mix-up. Someone on his staff messed up.”
“With the help of Natasia.” Jasmine stood and folded her arms. Hosea’s glance followed the hemline of her nightie as it rose. He swallowed, remembering just how much he loved his wife.
She said, “I don’t care what you say, I know I’m right. We can’t trust her.”
He stood and faced her. “You don’t have to trust her. Trust me.” He kissed her forehead and then turned toward the bedroom.
“Where’re you going?”
“To take a shower.” He hoped she wouldn’t ask him why he’d do such a thing when showering at night had never been his habit.
She said, “We’re not finished.”
The command in her tone made him face her again. “We don’t need to talk about this anymore. Just trust me.”
He turned away and then prayed inside that what he’d just told his wife was the truth.
FORTY-THREE
“BRIAN?”
This was supposed to be his sanctuary. He had told Alexis that he had something to do at the clinic this morning. And it had cut his heart when she didn’t even question him. Didn’t even ask what kind of work he had to do on a Sunday morning.
All she did was shrug and say, “Guess you’re not going to church.” Then she’d walked out of their apartment without looking back. Left him alone as if she didn’t care what he did. As if she knew their days together were numbered.
His marriage was slipping away. Almost a week had passed and he still hadn’t told her all that she wanted to know. What was worse was that she’d stopped asking. Like she’d given up.
“Brian.” Jefferson called him again. “What are you doing here sitting in the dark?” He clicked on the light, making Brian shield his eyes from the brightness. “Man,” Jefferson slipped into a chair across from him, “you look bad, B.”
Brian glanced down at the wrinkled shirt he wore. He guessed he did look bad compared to his friend, who was donned in his Sunday best.
“What are you doing here?” Brian asked, tossing the half-eaten candy bar he held onto his desk.
“I came to pick up some files, but it looks like I’ll be picking up a friend instead.”
“I needed someplace to go, to think.” He paused. “My marriage is over.”
Jefferson fell back against the chair. “What? I thought everything was working out.”
“It was. We’ve been trying, but…” He closed his eyes as he remembered the conversation he had tried so hard to forget. Jasmine telling him the truth. “I just found out something that will end my marriage for sure.”
“Wait a minute, your marriage isn’t over?”
“Not yet.”
“Man,” Jefferson’s shoulders relaxed, “you and Alexis will make it. I’m sure of that.”
Brian shook his head. “You don’t know what I know.”
“So tell me.”
This was supposed to be a secret that wasn’t to be shared with another soul. But if anyone could help him, it was Jefferson. His friend had been (almost) in the same place he was now.
“I talked to Jasmine.”
Jefferson’s eyes widened. “B, don’t tell me—”
He held up his hands. “Not like that. I’ve been delivered from being unfaithful.” He took a breath. “But I only told you part of the story.”
“Okay,” Jefferson said slowly.
“Jasmine had a baby.”
Nothing more needed to be said between two men who were three-decade-long friends. “Yours,” he said, for confirmation only.
Brian simply nodded.
“Man! How did that happen? I mean—”
“Please, no lectures.” Brian held up his hand. “I can’t handle it over the beating I’ve given myself.”
Jefferson sat, as if thoughts were turning over in his mind. “Are you sure it’s yours?”
“That’s what Jasmine said.”
Jefferson waved his hand in the air. “I know you’re not taking her word. If you think it could be yours, you need to have a test.”
Brian didn’t bother to explain that this wasn’t about trusting Jasmine. It was about what she’d said. Deception was more her style, but she’d already told her husband that he was the father. She would have never admitted that—unless it was the truth.
“At least I understand why you’re sitting here in the dark,” Jefferson said. “Wow, B, this is big. So, how are you planning on telling Alexis?”
“I’m not.”
“Whoa! Brian, man, don’t try to hide this. It’ll never stay a secret.”
“It will if you don’t say anything.” he paused and wondered if Jefferson would be able to keep this from his wife. “I’m telling you, man. You can’t tell Kyla,” his voice rose.
Jefferson held up his hands. “I don’t like it, but I’m not gonna give you up. Think about it, though, ’cause what’s done in the dark—”
“If you’re careless will come to light.”
“That’s not the way it goes.”
“That’s the way it has to go for me.”
Jefferson shook his head. “Is there anything I can do?”
