Seasoned with Grace Read online

  Grace turned up the corners of her mouth in an innocent smile, nodded her head at Ethan first, and then lifted it toward the ceiling to face God, who, she believed, had turned His back on her long ago.

  “Lord, we come before you as humbly as we know how to seek your help. Lord, we don’t know why, but everything in our lives has led us to this moment in time, to being together in this room. Please have your way and work this situation out to your honor and your glory. Guard our hearts from doing evil, and keep our mouths from speaking evil, in Jesus’s name. Amen.”

  Ethan released both Ms. Johnson’s and Grace’s hand from his firm grip. Ms. Johnson licked her lips and offered Ethan a wide grin.

  “Mr. Summerville, this is not my place to say, but if you’d like me to . . .” Ms. Johnson delicately placed her hand on his shoulder and traced his sharp profile with her eyes before going on. “Would you like me to strike the exchange between your secretary and Ms. King from the record?”

  Grace observed Ms. Johnson.

  “Ms. Johnson—” Ethan began.

  “Candace.” She blushed.

  Alice and Grace exchanged looks of shock when they realized what was taking place in front of them.

  “Uh . . . can we get on with this?” Grace asked loudly, trying to break up the love connection that was forming.

  “Yes, let’s move forward. Candace, if you would be so kind as to strike that exchange from the record, I’d—no, we’d—greatly appreciate it,” Ethan said, allowing his brown eyes to linger on Candace.

  Grace’s eyes widened as she took in this scene. She returned to her seat at the conference table. Reclining in her chair, with her hand resting on her throat, she deflected her gaze to the Romare Bearden print that hung on the wall. Candace didn’t appear to be the brash, flashy type of woman Ethan was used to dealing with as an entertainment attorney. Maybe that was why her nude lipstick, her simple diamond studs, and the glow that had surrounded her since she walked in intrigued him.

  “Do you need anything else, Mr. Summerville?” Alice asked. Ethan shook his head, and Alice cut her eyes in Grace’s direction. “What about you, Lindsay Lohan?” she asked with a slight smile and a jingle in her voice.

  “Since we just finished praying, I’m not even going to entertain you.” Grace waved her hand at Alice. She crossed her legs and wrapped them around each other like twisted vines, then turned her attention back to Ethan. “Please, continue.”

  Alice exited on cue, and Ethan sat back down at the conference table and returned to the particulars of her probation.

  “You cannot consume any alcohol or take any drugs. Is that clear?” He removed his eyeglasses and stared hard at Grace. “Well, do you understand the conditions of your probation?”

  “Yes. I just don’t understand why I have to do my community service at a church.”

  Ethan got up from his seat at the table, walked over to Grace, and perched on top of the table. He rested one of his hands on her hand and caressed it.

  “What I am about to say is going to hurt you.”

  “I can take it.” Grace swallowed hard, shoring herself up. “Whatever it is, I can take it.”

  “Right now you’re like tainted beef. No one wants to touch you.”

  Sinking into the chair, with her eyes closed, Grace let her head fall limp. How could a single slap turn into this? she wondered. She replayed the night in her head to see if she had missed a GO LEFT sign.

  The music thumped in my head. Scantily clad girls were gyrating on the dance floor, while DJ Tony Love hollered, “Who’s going to turn it up in here?”

  All I did was tap her on the shoulder.

  “I don’t do autographs at this hour, sweetie,” announced Soriah Sommers, the latest reality TV train wreck, shaking her twenty-six inches of Indian Remy in my face.

  Since Soriah couldn’t take a hint, I squeezed into the small space that existed between her and my date for the night or the week. I had not yet decided what to do about Lance Weston, the newest VJ on BET.

  “Excuse me!” Soriah shouted.

  “You’re excused. Exit stage left,” I replied. Lance and I pointed to the dance floor in unison while cracking up.

  “Don’t nobody play me like that,” Soriah snickered at me.

  “Keep it moving, sweetie,” I said.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  I turned around to face her. “Keep it moving, Soriah. I’m not the one.”

  Lance whispered, “Chill, chill, chill,” into my right ear, and Soriah barked threats into my left ear. The shots I threw back with Lance and the pounding of the bass seemed to speed everything up. All I could hear was the voices of chipmunks. Before I could stop myself, my fist was in Soriah’s mouth.

  “Grace . . . Grace? I thought you said you could handle this,” Ethan charged, disrupting her meditation on the past.

  “I can.”

  “I was able to get you a position at my church, Mount Carmel Community Church, so that I can monitor you.”

  With the flick of her wrist, she waved her hand at Ethan and rose to a standing position. Grace peeked over her shoulder to make sure that Ms. Johnson was watching as she stood in front of Ethan and adjusted his tie. She scooped his bearded face into her hands. “You just want to be close to me.”

  Ethan swatted her hands away from his face. “Please take a seat. This is a legal proceeding. Here are the terms of your probation. Please read over them and sign it. Then we can send Candace on her way, but not without lunch. Candace, would you like to join me for lunch? You’ve been so patient with us.”

  “I’m sure that Candace has to hurry back to the courthouse. Don’t you, Candace?” Grace asked forcefully, attempting to compel her to reject Ethan’s offer.

  “I am awfully hungry.”

  “Enough said. Let’s wrap this up so that we can eat,” Ethan said.

  “Shouldn’t we go over my itinerary for that new Tim Story film before breaking for lunch? What did you have in mind, anyway? I’m in the mood for some sushi,” Grace said.

  “I really wanted to talk about that later.” He looked up at Grace, then over at Candace again.

  Grace felt like a pot of seething water had spilled inside of her as Ethan turned from taking care of her to getting to know Candace. With every word he uttered, his eyes slowly shifted to Candace.

  “Let’s do it now. She already knows all my business, anyway.”

  “You’ve been cut from the film. They’re replacing you with Chanel Iman. You’re too much of a liability,” Ethan revealed.

  Grace sucked her teeth.

  “Now, about lunch. Candace and I are taking a lunch break. There are no breaks for a star. I have an interview set up for you at the office of MadameNoire at twelve fifteen, and after that I need you to go home, get a good night’s rest, and be ready in the a.m. for community service. Let’s just deal with this and discuss the film situation when you’ve got it together.” He rubbed his palms together and smiled at Candace instead of Grace.

  Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Grace sat down and sulked her way through the rest of the formalities, wondering what Ethan hoped to gain from dining with a mere stenographer, when Grace had been in front of him all this time.

  Chapter 3

  Candace’s eyes searched the menu at Bryant Park Grill for a dish she recognized, hoping to avoid making significant eye contact with Ethan. The more she looked into his eyes, which seemed to be filled with amber, like a lion’s eyes, and studied his chiseled features, the more he began to resemble a bronze version of the statue of David.

  “The lamb kabobs are great for an appetizer,” Ethan said.

  “I don’t know,” Candace said, sliding the small cross pendant dangling from her neck back and forth.

  “What’s to know?” Ethan asked, waving his muscular arm in the air, signaling for a waiter. “Just try them.”

  She marveled at his confidence. He knows he’s the head.

  “May we have an order of lamb ka
bobs, the Caesar salad, and . . .” He peered at her. “Do you like seafood?”

  She nodded her head.

  Finishing off the order, he added, “Give us the Bryant Park Sea Grill as well. That should be good. Lobster, shrimps, and scallops.”

  “This is a really nice restaurant, Mr. Summerville. I feel a tad bit underdressed,” Candace noted while pushing up the sleeves on her black and gray spotted cardigan.

  “You look fine.” Ethan’s fingertips grazed hers. He took a sip of his water and loosened the knot on his tie a bit. “Please, call me Ethan. How long have you been a stenographer?”

  “For only about six months.”

  “No wonder I’ve never seen you around,” he said, smiling like he’d just found buried treasure.

  “I usually work with Judge Franklin on depositions and civil trials. When I saw my name on the board for this case, I was so excited. The other stenographers told me Ms. King was a real riot, but I just see a hurt little girl,” Candace said, summing up her first encounter with the infamous Grace King. “She seems to really love you, though,” she added to gauge what was really going on between them.

  Ethan shook his head adamantly. “It’s not love. It’s more like codependency. Everyone at the firm says I enable her, and at the same token, now that she’s not the same bright-eyed girl they rolled in fresh off the street, no one wants anything to do with her. I’m getting pretty tired of The Grace King Show myself.”

  “While there’s life in the body, there’s still hope,” Candace said, smiling.

  “Yeah.” Ethan shook his head in agreement. “That’s why I sent her to do community service at my church . . . so that she could get saved and I can keep an eye on her. I don’t have too much left in me. If she messes this up, that’s it for me. There’s a lot more I hope to accomplish in life besides chasing after Grace.”

  Their appetizers arrived just as Candace was about to launch into a speech about the power and necessity of forgiveness. She noshed on her lamb kabob, savoring the peppery flavor of the tender shreds of lamb. And though she tried to hold back, the spirit demanded to be let out.

  “Ethan, I know this is not my place, but may I add my two cents?”

  Ethan placed his hand on hers and squeezed it. “Please feel free to share anything with me.” From the glimmer in his eyes, Candace understood that he was asking for more than her opinion. He was asking for her.

  “Jesus never gave up on Judas. Knowing who Judas was and knowing the intent of his heart well in advance, Jesus still ministered to him. Jesus still accepted his kiss, even on the night of his betrayal.”

  “Grace and Judas are totally different, and me and Jesus . . .” Ethan laughed a little. “Well, there just ain’t no comparison there.”

  Without restraint Candace jumped on Ethan’s slight spiritual deficiency. “God’s hope for us is that through this gift of faith and our ministry, we will live up to the fullness of Christ. Ephesians four, thirteen, more or less,” she said, shaking her hand. “Grace and Judas aren’t different. Both of them have been oppressed by the enemy in need of salvation and had the opportunity to sit at the feet of the Son of God. They who are led by the spirit are the sons of God, brother. Let the spirit lead you so that you can lead her to salvation.”

  Ethan scratched at his neck. He was definitely perplexed by what she’d just said, and from the looks of it, he was trying to grasp the magnitude of her words. Throughout the rest of their lunch, as they stuffed themselves with Caesar salad and the abundance of soft chunks of lobster, scallops, and jumbo shrimp, Ethan tried to digest Candace’s wise words.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” the waiter asked, collecting their dishes.

  Ethan glanced at his watch. “My lunch hour is almost up. Give the lady anything she’d like and charge it to this card.” Ethan withdrew his Amex from his back pocket and handed it to the waiter.

  “I’m not impressed by things, Mr. Summerville.”

  “Me either. I am really impressed by you, and I hope that you are at least mildly impressed by me. You have a fresh perspective on the scriptures, and you really helped me to see that right now I’m not meeting God’s standards in this area of my life. Candace, is it all right with you if we exchange numbers? I’d like to spend more time with you.”

  A current of heat coursed through Candace’s body, a sure signal that her creamy cocoa-butter complexion was turning rosy. She patted her cheeks, then covered her mouth to mask her smile.

  “I would like that too.” She clutched her forehead. None of this was like her. She didn’t go out to lunch with strange men or exchange numbers with them after one conversation. She usually wasn’t this bold, but that prayer changed things. The prayer that Ethan had led in his office had moved her and had opened her eyes to a treasure. She thought of a picture she’d seen this morning on one of her girlfriend’s status update. A portrait of a man’s hands folded, with the words “A real man knows how to talk to God” superimposed on top of it.

  Candace had taken every word of his prayer to her heart and had asked the Lord why was she here, and when she’d opened her eyes, she’d seen something different about Ethan. He was a prime cut. Not just in the looks department. She’d checked her flesh at the door when she first spotted his six-foot-two frame strutting through the lobby before he escorted her upstairs.

  After that prayer, she had thrown away the “Keep me, Lord” prayer she whispered in the lobby of Stars Unlimited and had determined in her heart to show him she was the helpmeet God had created for him.

  Chapter 4

  Grace stared at the gold knobs on the doors of Mount Carmel Community Church. She turned her back and took three steps toward the curb. She was supposed to report to church on Tuesday, the day after the sentencing. It was now mild, fog-filled Thursday, and she still wasn’t ready to walk through the doors of Mount Carmel.

  You have to go in. Go in, or go to jail. She weighed her options. “I can handle the chains. I can handle the jumpsuit. I don’t know if I can handle twenty-four hours of women,” she said aloud.

  Slowly, she walked back to the doors, then turned around again and leaned against them. “I can’t do this. I’m just going to call Ethan. . . . I can’t disappoint him, but . . .” she murmured.

  “But now is the acceptable time for salvation,” a woman said to her through a crack in the door.

  “What?”

  “The Lord led you here for a reason.”

  “Yeah,” Grace said smugly, nodding her head. “He led me here to do community service, not to be indoctrinated.”

  “Are you . . . ?” The woman gasped deeply. “No. You’re not!”

  Grace turned around to face the woman completely. She raised her oversized sunglasses, giving her a full glimpse of her face.

  “Grace King. Come in, come in,” the woman said, quickly opening the door to the church.

  Grace stepped into the vestibule of Mount Carmel Community Church and gave the woman who had greeted her a blank stare.

  “I’m Sister Connie Bryce. I’ll be your tour guide for the day. I’m sure Brother Ethan filled you in on all the various ministries we have. Which one do you think you’d like to take part in?”

  With a turned-up nose, Grace replied, “Lady, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m just here to do my time?”

  “Where the spirit is, there is liberty. We’ll help you find just the right ministry for you to participate in so that you can grow.”

  Grace cocked her head to the side and wondered if Sister Bryce had heard a single word she’d said. Either she was so high on the Holy Ghost, she could completely disregard Grace’s noxious attitude or all the material she had on was affecting her hearing. Her ankle-length plaid skirt and her peach-colored, short-sleeved turtleneck reminded Grace of yet another reason why conversion was not on her to-do list. It’s so unfashionable.

  Grace was giving Sister Bryce a little extra flavor, hoping she’d send her home, forcing Ethan to find a more suitab
le place for her.

  “Follow me this way to the basement, where we do our food ministry, Fishes and Loaves Ministry. I told Pastor that I thought it would be best for you to try your hand in every ministry until we’re able to discern your gift.”

  Grace grabbed Sister Bryce’s fleshly arm, stopping her in her tracks.

  “I don’t think Brother Ethan explained to you clearly why I’m here, but it’s not to minister, and my gifts are right here.” Grace waved her hand at her face and patted her breast.

  “Ow, the blood of Jesus, Satan, the Lord of hosts rebukes you in the name of Jesus.” Sister Bryce shook her hand in a flourish in Grace’s face. “Nothing happens by chance. If you are here, you were sent here for a divine purpose. You shake those things all you want. They come standard with every model, and some of us are blessed enough to get a little extra.” Sister Bryce straightened her back, pointing out that she had received a double portion of Grace’s gift. “Though the world values those, they don’t mean nothing in the Kingdom. Now, understand this—” she waved her index finger in the air—“Everything we do here is a ministry designed to help us exercise our faith and draw people closer to God.”

  With that, Sister Bryce turned her back and proceeded to walk toward the altar. Grace remained stationary in the middle of the aisle. I know she don’t think she’s about to put no oil on me. I didn’t come here for all this.

  “Is you coming or not, little girl? We got the Lord’s business to attend to, and He doesn’t wait for anybody.”

  Grace dragged her feet as she followed Sister Bryce to the altar and then down the steps on the left side of the pulpit.

  “The steps on the right lead to Pastor’s office. He’s away at a pastors’ summit this week. As soon as he returns, I’ll introduce you. Come on now. We got to get ready for the lunch crowd,” Sister Bryce said, pushing the door open to reveal Mount Carmel’s expansive basement.

  Twelve long banquet-style tables occupied the basement from wall to wall. Each table was covered with a scarlet tablecloth, and vases filled with marbles and fake flowers served as decorations. The walls were covered with framed verses from the Bible, written in calligraphy. One scripture captured Gracie’s attention. Ephesians 4:7. But unto every one of us is given grace according to the measure of the gift of Christ.