Read Too Little, Too Late Online

Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Religious

Too Little, Too Late (21 page)

FORTY-EIGHT

I
T FELT LIKE OLD TIMES
.

Had been this way the entire week. Because of Tonya Brady, he had his wife back.

Alexis grabbed a handful of popcorn, then rested against his chest. “I cannot believe you got me to watch this movie again.”

He pulled her closer. “Ssshhh. It’s almost over.”

“What is it with guys and
Scarface?
” she asked anyway.

“He’s a real O.G.”

“There’s something downright wrong with watching all of this violence on a Sunday.”

He chuckled. “Ssshhh.”

Less than five minutes later, Alexis cheered. “And that’s not because I enjoyed it any more than I did the last fourteen hundred times you forced me to watch.”

Brian hit “Stop” on the remote. “Fourteen hundred times?”

“At least.”

He grinned. “Ya gotta love it.”

“No, I love you.”

They stopped, her words surprising them both.

He said, “Thank you for loving me.” He held her hand. “I’m just so sorry—”

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “No need to say that anymore. I’ve forgiven you.”

He was filled with joy and pain hearing those words. She’d forgiven him; he was blessed with that. But inside, his lies still haunted him.

I did it for her.

“To be honest,” Alexis said, “I didn’t think it was possible to get to this place. But I thought a lot about Kyla. And how I’d counseled her when she was coping with Jefferson and Jasmine’s affair.”

The sound of Jasmine’s name from his wife’s lips made him shake. His secret was sitting right there in the living room with them.

She said, “And Pastor always says you have to forgive to be forgiven.”

He couldn’t find anything to say.

“And I have to thank you, too,” she added.

“For what?”

“For being honest and telling me everything. And for continuing your therapy. I can’t ask for anything more.”

Slowly, Brian turned away. Folded his hands together under his chin.
Honest.

“What’s wrong?” Alexis asked.

He shook his head and pulled her close to him. “Nothing.”

For long minutes, Alexis rested in his arms, quiet, and he prayed that from now on, this was how it would be.

His vibrating cell phone interrupted their peace.

“Want me to get that?” Alexis asked, but she was already moving toward the coffee table, reaching for the phone.

She picked it up. Glanced at the screen. Frowned. “The Fairmont Hotel,” she said with a question in her voice.

Before she could flip it open, he snatched the phone from her. “That must be one of the doctors. There’s a doctor who’s here in L.A. From New York. I’m going to be doing a consult. He needs my help. A newborn. My advice. The baby, he was just born…He chattered until his cell stopped ringing.

Alexis’s frown deepened. She folded her arms. “You missed the call.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah. Let me take this in the office. I’ll be right back.” He kissed the top of her head, and tried not to move too quickly. But he couldn’t get away fast enough. He bolted into the office, closed the door, breathless.

How close was that? If Alexis had taken that call…

Still shaky, he dialed the number, asked for the Bushs’ room, then said, “This is Brian,” the moment Jasmine answered.

“Hosea and I will meet with you,” she said, without saying hello. “Tuesday morning. Here at the hotel, in the lobby, and then we’ll go someplace else, if it’s necessary.”

“That’ll work,” he said, glad they weren’t meeting in the city. He didn’t want any chance meetings with Alexis. “How’s nine?”

“Fine.”

Before he thought, he said, “Will you bring the baby?” He was stunned by his own question and just as quickly, he said, “Never mind. I’ll see you Tuesday,” then he hung up.

He settled into the chair. Why had he asked about the baby? It wasn’t like he wanted to have anything to do with her. Not that he was shunning his responsibility. Like with his two sons from his previous marriage, he would provide financially.

But from what Jasmine said, she and Hosea wanted to raise this baby on their own—without him or his help. And that’s what he wanted, too.

He stood; he needed to get back to Alexis before she became suspicious.

At the living room entryway, he paused. Stared at his wife, engrossed in the Sunday newspaper. He settled next to her.

“Did you get…that call taken care of?” she asked without looking up.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Good.”

Brian glanced at Alexis for an extra moment. She sat as stiff as her voice sounded. Still didn’t look at him.
What’s wrong?
But as quickly as his concerns came, he tossed them away. There wasn’t a problem and he didn’t need to look for one. It was just that close call with disaster that had him shaken up.

While Alexis read, Brian scanned the sports pages. But his mind was on Tuesday. If it went as planned, it wouldn’t take ten minutes. He’d thank Jasmine and her husband for all that they’d done. And then they’d get to the important part—the three would agree that this was a fact that was best kept a secret until the end of time.

After that, he’d be able to walk away. For good.

FORTY-NINE

J
ASMINE SAT ON THE BED
long after she hung up the phone. The call had sucked all energy from her. But if God was on her side, this would end on Tuesday. And she would never have to speak to Brian Lewis again in this life or in the hereafter, if where she hoped he’d spend eternity was correct.

Tuesday had to be the end, because she wasn’t sure how much more her marriage could take. If Natasia had been dynamite, Brian was a nuclear explosion. Because with his return, he brought the memory of her betrayal.

Since Friday night, Hosea’s pain had been palatable. So many times, she felt him staring at her, his thoughts of her and Brian together right behind his eyes.

She’d apologized over and over. And over and over he’d told her he was fine. But then yesterday he’d worked long hours in the third bedroom he used as an office. Even when he came to bed last night, she could feel his distance.

The moment he laid his head on the pillow, she’d asked, “Do you want to talk?”

“No,” was all he said. And even though he had wrapped his arms around her, she could feel that he wasn’t there. In his mind, he’d gone someplace where she wasn’t invited.

Somehow, she had to break through. Get Hosea to see that Brian’s return made no difference at all—they were still a happily married couple.

“You spoke to him.”

She looked up. Hosea stood at the edge of the bedroom, arms folded. And she prayed that all of the hate that she saw in his eyes was for Brian.

“Yes,” she said, “he’s meeting us Tuesday. At nine. Is that okay?”

He nodded. In that moment, his face softened, now etched with a sadness that matched her own.

She said, “He asked if we were bringing Jacquie, but he hung up before I could tell him that there was no way he’d ever—”

“I think he should see Jacqueline.”

Her eyes widened. “No! Definitely not. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we should live in the light.”

“And that’s what we’re doing.” She paced in front of him. “We’re meeting Brian, and I don’t even want to do that. But there’s no way I’m exposing my daughter—”

“You mean our daughter, don’t you?”

She stopped. Turned to him with eyes that were already begging before she spoke, “Hosea, I don’t want to take her.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t want anything to happen to Jacqueline.”

“Do you think I do?” He softened his voice. “Jacquie won’t even know what’t going on. Let him get a look at her now, so that he won’t be calling us back two days later asking to see her.”

“He could do that anyway!”

His eyebrows bunched together. “I thought you said he didn’t want to be part of her life.”

She shook her head and sank onto the bed. There was no way she was going to let Brian see her child. Because she could feel it—if they brought Jacqueline, something bad was going to happen.

Hosea said, “I’m just sayin,’ we’re going to handle this now. Out in the open. Then he’ll go his way, we’ll go ours. And when Jacquie is older, if she wants a relationship with him…” He shrugged, although Jasmine could see the pain of that thought in his eyes. “But no one will ever be able to say that we didn’t even let him see…
his child.

Those words stabbed her, but before she could take the knife out, the telephone rang. She grabbed the handset, wanting to hurl it across the room. She answered, “Hello.”

“Let me speak to Hosea.”

That voice was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. Jasmine slammed the phone back in place. “Hosea,” she started, picking up their conversation as if Natasia had never called, “Jacquie is your—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Who was that?” he asked with a frown.

Then his cell phone rang.

He unclipped it from his belt, flipped it open. “What’s going down, Natasia?”

Jasmine crossed her arms, glared at him. Their eyes stayed locked as Hosea talked.

“Did you call Triage?” he asked.

Jasmine seethed more.

“I’ll be right there.”

She was shaking her head before he hung up. “Hosea, why is she always calling you on the weekend?”

“It’s work.”

“Well, that’s going to have to wait, because we’re in the middle of this.”

“We’ll finish later, but I’m not changing my mind,” he said before he turned away.

“Hosea!”

Seconds later, he closed the door to their hotel suite.

FIFTY

T
OMORROW
. E
VERYTHING COULD
be different tomorrow. That was the fear that had settled in his heart. What was Brian’s real agenda? Jasmine had said he only wanted to know their intentions. But what were
his
intentions?

Hosea’s eyes moved to the photo of Jacqueline on top of his desk, and his smile came before he even had a chance to lift the frame.

Jacqueline had never met a camera she didn’t like. Always laughing. Always posing. And she wasn’t even two. His daughter was born to be photographed.

His daughter.

Not Brian’s.

What would Brian think once he saw Jacqueline? Would seeing
his
daughter—who had come to life in his image—make him want a relationship? Maybe Jasmine was right. Maybe they should leave Jacqueline out of this. But there was something inside that told him it needed to be done this way.

Live in the light. That had always been his motto. That’s what Jesus would do.

His heart was swollen with love as he kept his eyes on the photo. It amazed him the way he loved her more every day. He loved her as if she was his very own.

But every time she smiled, or laughed, or cried, or slept—he saw Brian Lewis. And tomorrow, he’d have to see that man in the flesh.

The tap on his door made him look up and Natasia asked, “May I?” before she stepped inside.

“I thought you’d gone home already.”

“Nah, I’m a workaholic like you, and anyway, I wouldn’t leave without saying good night.” She tilted her head to glance at the picture he held. “Your daughter. I saw her on the plane. She’s adorable.” She reached for the frame.

“Yeah, she’s my joy.”

She frowned, just a bit. “She doesn’t look like a Bush. Guess she takes after her mother.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat; felt it float down and settle on his heart.

Natasia returned the photograph. “Hosea, what’s wrong? You’ve been so distracted.”

“I’m cool.”

She squinted. “I know you. Was it because I had to pull you away from home last night? I hope it didn’t cause a problem with your wife.”

“No, I was glad to get out of—” He stopped. Couldn’t believe he’d said that, even though it was true. He had been glad to leave the hotel right in the middle of his debate with Jasmine. By the time he’d returned, Jasmine was asleep. When he left this morning, he could tell that she was pretending to still be sleeping, which was fine with him. He didn’t want to talk about Brian anymore. “No worries,” he said to Natasia. “Everything’s cool.”

She stayed quiet for a moment. “I’m always here for you. No matter what happens, we’ll always be friends. At least that’s what I hope.”

“We will be.”

“So then…as a friend…talk to me.”

He took a deep breath. It was building to a peak—his stress. He was trying hard with Jasmine. Trying hard not to blame her for a long-ago sin that he had supposedly forgiven. It was the forgetting part that tortured him. He wanted to, needed to forget. And he was well on his way, until Brian came back and forced him to remember.

Maybe it would help to talk.

He looked up. Saw that smile. And a vision rushed him like a tsunami. Of him and Natasia in bed. Sheets disheveled. Legs entwined. Arms tangled. Tongues dancing. Bodies wet. Connected as one. The way they used to be.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hosea, are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He was almost afraid to look at her again. But when he did, the tsunami was gone.

She stood over him, lines of concern all over her face. “I’m really worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

She waited a moment before she sat back in the chair. “Okay, then maybe you can help me with something.”

“Be glad too.”

“Good, because I could really use a friend’s advice.”

Mario.
That was the first thing that came to his mind. “How can I help?”

“Well—” She stopped, changed the subject. “You know, we’ve been in this office all day. And we’re going to be back here,” she glanced at her watch, “in about twelve hours. Let’s go grab a drink somewhere.”

He thought about Jasmine. Probably waiting for him, since they hadn’t spoken all day. They’d called, but kept missing each other, he suspected purposely. Now, he was sure she was up waiting for him. To talk about tomorrow. To talk about Brian.

He couldn’t do that right now.

“Sure,” he said to Natasia. “We can hang out for a little while.”

“Let’s go to my hotel.” Before he could protest, she continued, “Not my room. There’s a great lobby bar and we could talk there.”

Her words, her tone were innocent enough. But it was the memory of his vision—the bed, the sheets, their legs, their tongues that made him say, “Not there.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I’ve heard about this club, de Janeiro. It’s a salsa club I’ve been wanting to check out.”

De Janeiro. The sister club to Rio. Jasmine’s club.

He shook his head. “Why don’t we check out Pure? It should be cool on a Monday. And it’s close. Better for both of us.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go.” She stood, moved toward the door.

Again Jasmine came to his mind.

“Are you coming?” Natasia reached her hand toward him.

“Yeah, I’m with you.” He took her hand, and together, they walked out the door.

The Kenny G look-alike was just a few feet from their table, caressing the saxophone and the melody. They’d been at Pure for almost an hour and had exchanged few words. Instead, they sat shoulder-to-shoulder, listening, enjoying.

Natasia spoke first, “I have loved that song from the moment I heard Celine sing it for
Titanic.
” Now she sang along, “Love was when I loved you.” She shifted on her stool, sang to him, “One true time I hold to.”

Hosea smiled a little, then took a long swallow of his soda. When he put his glass down, he stared straight at the musician. Kept his eyes away from Natasia. But only for a little while.

He peeked at her, watched as she now hummed. Her eyes were partially closed, her mouth partially opened. She swayed to the music, took a small sip of wine, and then her tongue traced her lips as her fingers massaged her glass.

He needed to go home.

“Ah, Natasia, you wanted to talk?” His eyes moved to her gloss-soaked lips. He imagined the taste of wine that still lingered there. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to rush, but…” He glanced at his watch.

“I’m sorry, I just got caught up. This guy is good.” She smiled. “And it hasn’t been too bad sitting here with you.” When he didn’t respond, she got to her point. “I got a call last week. From a headhunter.”

“Really?” He’d expected words about Mario. “Didn’t know you were looking for another position.”

“I wasn’t, but this woman found me. She had a couple of things, but there’s one in particular that’s really interesting. In London.”

Her words made his heart beat faster. “London. Wow.”

“That’s exactly what I said. Living abroad, with quite an increase in my salary.”

“Sounds too good to turn down.”

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. I don’t want to leave.” She paused, looked straight at him. “
Bring It On.

“Nat, your career comes first,” he said, wanting to say the right things. “And this position with us, it was temporary. The real question is, are you ready to leave NBC?”

She lowered her head, stared into her wine as if her answer was there. “My career isn’t everything. There are some things in life just as important.” Even in the dim light, he could see the sadness in her eyes. “My life,” she continued, “hasn’t gone the way I planned. I need to stay here.” Her hand began to move slowly until it covered his. “I need to stay here until I’m sure—”

“Natasia—”

“I know there’s no chance for us. But it’s our friendship that I want to be sure of. Even when the show leaves L.A., I want you in my life. I want us to nurture our friendship and that’s why I don’t want to leave right now.”

He wondered what Jasmine would think of that and whether Natasia planned on being friends with his wife, too. “Your career is more important than our friendship.”

“My career is fine. I make good money. I love working on the show. Being with you is an extra bonus. Right now, our friendship is most important.”

“We can be friends from anywhere.”

“So you think I should move to London?”

“I think you should give this serious thought.”

She nodded. “Can this stay just between us?”

“Definitely.” He peeked at his watch again.

“Yeah, it’s getting late,” she said. “Jasmine’s probably wondering where you are.” She waited for him to say something. He didn’t. She said, “Thanks for listening.”

“No problem. Glad I could be here for you.”

“I wish that was an all-the-time thing.” She continued before he could say a word. “As a friend. I’m really cool with our friendship.”

“So am I. You ready?”

“Yeah, I don’t need any more wine. Remember last time?”

He didn’t want to remember. But he did.

Hosea led Natasia outside and they waited for her car to arrive. When the Town Car stopped, he opened the door, and she hugged him. Held him. For a long moment.

“Just know you always have me,” she whispered in his ear. “My shoulders are your shoulders.” She kissed his cheek, then slipped into the car.

He stood on the edge of the street watching until her car was out of sight. Then he strolled to the parking lot where he’d left his SUV.

Inside the car, he sat. And prayed. Prayed about the meeting with Brian tomorrow. And then prayed that he would never need those shoulders that Natasia had offered.

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