Chapter 12
Paige didn’t need the address of the church. She’d passed by True Worship Ministries on numerous occasions while traveling around the city, showing property. The church had the reputation of being a church for all people. According to her clients who attended the church, the senior pastors, Reginald and Julia Pennington, were practical teachers and were down to earth, teaching the gospel without imposing man-made regulations. The campus sat on two acres of land and housed a community center, which served Oakland’s down-and-out and up-and-comers.
“Just what I thought,” Paige mumbled once she turned into the parking lot.
The crowd walking into the building was wayward at best in her opinion. She didn’t necessarily believe one had to wear rhinestone-decorated suits and pinstripes to attend church, but jeans, sneakers, and flip-flops? The shoes were a common sight even in cold weather, but not at church. On a Sunday morning? And uncovered tattoos? Her church, Restoration Ministries, didn’t have an official dress code policy, but most congregants dressed conservatively of their own accord. These people couldn’t be serious about walking with the Lord.
“No wonder they have such a large membership,” she said to herself. “Anything and everything is allowed up in here. I bet the pastor wears jeans and a hoodie.” She shook her head in disgust before focusing on looking for a parking space.
A waving fluorescent stick caught her attention and directed her to an empty space right next to Sergio-Xavier’s car. What are the odds of this happening? she wondered. Her hand had barely touched the door handle before Sergio-Xavier opened the car door for her.
“I knew you would come with your saint-o-meter,” he told her. “That’s why I gave the attendants your car’s make and model and had them save you a space.”
She didn’t bother asking why the attendants would honor his request. He was wearing not only a blue tailored suit, but also that cocky smile she hated, which was outlined by a neatly trimmed mustache. The woodsy scent emanating from him arrested her the second he opened the door. She caught herself just before she was about to yield to the urge to close her eyes and savor the fragrance. She was saved and sanctified. She couldn’t be seen lusting in the church’s parking lot with a client. She ignored his outstretched hand and stepped from the car.
“Look, I received a great Word this morning from Pastor Drake, and I am not going to allow the devil to spoil my day.”
“Are you calling me the devil?”
“You’re not the devil, but you could certainly get me into trouble.”
He laughed in her face. “I doubt that,” he said, then once again extended his hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside. You need all the church you can get.”
She sneered but accepted his hand. Paige was about to ask why his hands were so smooth, but then she remembered he was physician. As they neared the entrance, Paige slowed her pace. Compared to the casual attire most of the congregants wore, she was overdressed in a calf-length skirt and blazer. With her white-collared blouse buttoned to the top, the only skin Paige showed was her hands and face.
“Are you all right?” he asked with more concern than the situation warranted.
“I’m fine, but I feel out of place,” she admitted.
“Why? Because you have on that ‘Take me to the water’ outfit?”
Paige gasped.
“Don’t worry. No one will mistake you for a saint, because it’s a known fact that a long skirt can come up just as fast as a miniskirt.”
“How dare you say that to me!” She struggled to free her hand, but it was useless. The soft hand she had admired moments earlier now felt like a metal bracelet.
“Will you calm down?” he said, leaning into her ear. “You’re causing a scene. I said that only to prove a point.”
“And your point would be?” she snarled through clenched teeth.
“Stop judging the gift by the outer packaging. See what’s inside first.” Once again he left her speechless. “Now come on. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t open your mouth.”
With each step, Paige repented, because she had actually considered punching him with her free hand. The joy she’d experienced from his compliment last night was long gone. Instead of eating greasy fried chicken, Paige felt like smearing Vaseline on her face and beating his fine butt right into the pavement.
“Let it go, Paige,” he said, holding the church door open for her. “You know I told the truth. Your face has been clothed with disgust since you parked your car. You don’t think these people know the Lord, because they’re dressed differently.”
Anger seeped out and embarrassment rushed in and Paige entered the lobby with her head down. She’d just left a place where she sang about Jesus’s unconditional love, undeserving grace, and unlimited mercy, only to learn that she didn’t have any of those characteristics.
“Come on. I’ll show you to your seat.” He always moved forward, like his words didn’t hurt. She hated that about him, yet she followed.
The floor level of True Worship was nearly packed to capacity, and from what Paige could see by straining her neck, so was the balcony. Unlike her all African American church, the cultural diversity of True Worship mirrored the Bay Area’s population.
“Why are we going to the front? It’s already crowded,” she asked when they were more than halfway down the middle aisle. “Let’s sit in the back.”
“I already have our seats reserved,” he answered without slowing his pace. “We’ll sit here.”
Her eyes followed his pointed finger to two empty seats on the second row, next to a man who nearly made Paige’s heart stop.
“Oh, my God!” Paige gripped his arm with strength she didn’t know she had. “That’s Marcus Simone. You didn’t tell me he attends here. I love his music, and I have all his CDs.” Paige’s words ran together, and her pitch rose several notches, but she didn’t care. The man whose music never failed to uplift her spirit was just a few feet away.
“So you’re a fan of Marcus’s music.”
Her words tumbled out at record speed. “Are you kidding? His music has carried me through some really dark times. I don’t like just his music. I like him. I like—”
“You do know he’s married, don’t you?” Sergio-Xavier interjected.
Paige smacked her lips. “Of course I do. I mean, I like the genuineness of his music. I know everything about him. I knew he lived in the Bay Area, but I didn’t know he went here, of all places.” She pointed in his direction. “That’s his wife, Shannon, sitting next to him. They have three kids—Marcus Jr. and Mariah, who are fraternal twins, and Marlon—and they’re expecting their fourth in July. He has six albums, two DVDs, and a book and is in the process of coproducing a movie. He also owns a successful computer business.” Paige closed her eyes and finally took a breath.
Sergio-Xavier grinned and shook his head. “You amaze me. I never would have thought of you as a groupie.” He gestured for her to enter the row. “Let’s sit down.”
Paige gasped and gripped his arm again. “I can’t sit next to him.”
“Why not? It’s just Marcus. He won’t bite.”
She still wouldn’t budge. “So you know him, then?” Paige considered it rude for him to laugh in her face, but to bend over, holding his stomach, in the front of the sanctuary was downright humiliating. “What’s so funny?” she sneered.
“You are,” he said after resuming an upright position. “You don’t have a neutral cell in your body. You’re either over the top or off the deep end.”
“Explain, and hurry up before you embarrass me further.”
“You’re doing a fabulous job of that all by yourself.” He pointed down the aisle. “That’s Marcus Simone.” He then pointed at his chest. “My name is Sergio-Xavier Simone. Do I know him? Marcus and I are first cousins.” When she didn’t readily respond, he added, “Our fathers are brothers. Do you get it now?”
“Yes, I do,” she mouthed more than spoke. She could blame not connecting the last names on excitement, but the word mortification wasn’t strong enough to adequately describe her feelings. In a sanctuary full of people, Paige fully understood what Sergio-Xavier had tried to tell her at the food bank. From following Marcus’s career, Paige knew he was from a large, wealthy family with deep Bay Area roots. Now that she’d been enlightened, the resemblance was obvious, only Marcus had a ponytail and Sergio-Xavier’s wavy hair stopped at his neckline. Now she knew how he could afford to spend over a million dollars on investment property. In addition to being a physician, Sergio-Xavier Winston Simone was a multimillionaire.
“Good. Now, please sit down before service starts.”
Without protesting, Paige started down the aisle behind him, but she didn’t have a chance to sulk. Once the two cousins greeted each other with a hug and a choreographed handshake, and once she sat down next to Sergio-Xavier, people of all shades and sizes acknowledged her with a nod. No doubt they were other members of the Simone clan. When Marcus said hello and shook her hand, she had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out a request for an autograph.
“Are you all right?” Sergio-Xavier whispered in her ear once he was seated. “I wouldn’t want you to spontaneously combust, being this close to your idol.”
Since she was in church, Paige withheld the eye rolling, but she still spoke her mind. “Pull your bottom lip over your forehead and swallow.”
“I’m just saying, you’ve never been this giddy over me.” The smug expression gave the impression the comment was legitimate, but she knew better.
“That’s because I don’t like you in the least bit.”
“Stop lying in church,” he said and then stood. “I’ll be back after service starts. In the meantime, try not to jump on Marcus’s lap. Shannon will beat you down in the sanctuary.” Then he walked away.
Paige slammed her eyes shut to stop the red dots floating across her field of vision and covered her mouth with both hands. She hadn’t used profanity in years, but at that moment nothing would give her more pleasure than cursing him out. “Lord, please hold my tongue and my fists,” she prayed repeatedly—though it was more like pleading—with no relief.
“Praise the Lord, everybody!” The boisterous voice over the sound system interrupted her petitions.
Both collective and individual praises filled the sanctuary and charged the atmosphere. The red dots were gone when she opened her eyes and found the majority of the congregation standing. Not wanting to appear a novice at church and wanting to see what was going on, Paige stood too.
The praise and worship ministry took the stage along with the band. The lights dimmed, and colored floodlights illuminated the sanctuary. What kind of circus is this? she wondered.
She stood through three selections, but she didn’t participate. She was too busy scoping out the scene. Everywhere she looked, she saw people singing the words on the wall screens and worshipping and praising. She knew the songs, some of which she sang at her church, yet Paige couldn’t let go and join in. She had to be alert, just in case something went down that wasn’t right. As the third song came to a slow close, a familiar voice bellowed over the microphone in prayer. The voice didn’t move her, but the name written on the big screen knocked the wind out of her: Minister Sergio-Xavier Simone.
“Oh no! He’s a minister?” she thundered before she could stop herself. Thankfully, the music and his voice were loud enough so that only those close to her heard her rant. She looked to the left, then to the right. At least six sets of eyes, including her idol’s, were zeroing in on her. Paige couldn’t read their expressions, but the unanimous “Shush” they offered was loud and clear.
Paige bowed her head and, instead of praying, wondered how someone as rude and harsh as Sergio-Xavier Simone could be a man of God. Had she been that wrong about him? After much deliberation, she decided she hadn’t. Sure, he knew the right words to pray and he looked the part, but the spiritual fruit just wasn’t there.
“Turn around and make your brothers and sisters feel at home,” Sergio-Xavier instructed the audience at the close of the prayer.
The gesture was obviously a ritual, Paige determined when the entire congregation hugged or shook hands with those in close proximity. Since she’d already greeted the Simones, Paige stepped out into the aisle and half-heartedly shook a few hands, then returned to her seat.
Her foe rejoined her before she could cross her legs at the ankles. “How are you holding up?” he asked.
“What type of stupid question is that?” Paige wanted to yell, but instead she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a minister?”
“You were too busy condemning me to ask and too self-absorbed to care,” he answered in that no-nonsense tone she hated. “Now, stop talking in church before you say something crazy.”
The blows his words carried were becoming harder to withstand. From a few conversations with the man, she’d gained a deeper understanding of the phrase “the truth hurts.” She didn’t like the truths he brought to light, and she wondered how she’d fallen into such darkness in the first place. “I thought we got past that?” she said.
“No, we just moved on,” he said, resting his arm on the back of her chair. “We can talk about that later, but just know I have forgiven you.”
She abruptly turned her attention to the platform to hide how much those four words meant to her. She’d give anything to feel forgiven for the moral crime she’d committed. Knowing theology was one thing, but believing it was another. She’d read Romans chapter ten, verse nine, so many times, she knew the exact number of letters the salvation scripture contained. Salvation she could comprehend, but forgiveness remained beyond her reach.
I’m wrong again, she thought when Pastor Reggie took the podium. He wasn’t wearing jeans and a hoodie, but a black cassock. “Is he related to you also?” she asked, since Pastor Reggie didn’t resemble the Simones.
“He’s my uncle. His wife and my father are siblings.”
“Oh,” she mouthed and directed her attention to Pastor Julia, who was sitting on the dais, and wondered why she didn’t use the traditional first lady title.
Pastor Reggie opened his Bible and began preaching. His teaching-style preaching resembled Pastor Drake’s, and Paige liked that. Both had the ability to break the Word down, and both provide practical examples of its application. Pastor Reggie closed his sermon by sharing his personal testimony of forgiveness. He shared how his past sins had caused him to lose seventeen years of his son’s life. He found peace and moved forward only after he learned to forgive himself. Only then did God restore what he’d lost and add more.
“Why can’t that happen for me?” Paige wanted to scream, but instead she lowered her head in her hands and cried. The tears were slow until Sergio-Xavier stuffed his handkerchief into her hands. She expected him to say something humiliating, but he didn’t. His firm hand squeezing her shoulder and pulling her to him surprised her, but she didn’t resist. At that moment she needed comfort and the prayer he whispered in her ear. The soft strokes on the head were nice too.
He waited until she had regained composure before asking, “Are you all right?”
She didn’t want to lie in church, so she answered, “I’m better,” and then sat up but didn’t face him. He didn’t pressure her, but his arm rested around her shoulder until the benediction.
After the service was over, he turned to her and whispered, “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” He gripped Paige’s arm in hopes of steering her out of the sanctuary before they were bombarded with questions. Normally, he wouldn’t mind this family’s curiosity, but Paige was too vulnerable at the moment. He sensed the earlier emotional breakdown was minor compared to the release she needed. Her tight shoulder muscles exposed her heavy burden more than the tears, but it wasn’t his place to pry about the source. Their broker-client relationship didn’t give him that right.
“Thank you,” she answered, fiddling with her purse strap.
Sergio-Xavier’s plan failed—they were ambushed the second they stepped into the aisle. “Oh no,” he groaned.
“Hello. I’m Staci,” said a woman with curly hair.
Another woman, with hazel eyes and honey-blond hair, stepped in front of Sergio-Xavier. “And I’m Lashay.”
Both women held babies in their arms, but that didn’t interrupt their mission. They peppered Paige with questions.
“What’s your name?”
“Where are you from?”
“How did you guys meet?”
“How long have you been dating?”
“Slow your roll,” Sergio-Xavier said, holding up the universal time-out sign.
“Not until you introduce us to your girlfriend.” The one with curly hair smirked.
Knowing the interrogation would only intensify if he didn’t give the women what they wanted, without correcting their assumption that Paige was his girl, Sergio-Xavier placed his hand on Paige’s back and made the formal introductions.
“This is my real estate broker, Paige McDaniels.” He turned to Paige, whose eyes were glossy. “These are my nosy, pesky cousins. Staci is Marcus’s little sister, and Lashay is my aunt Julia’s daughter.”
“Hi, Paige,” the women said in unison.
Lashay switched her baby from one arm to the other. “So how long have you two been dating?”
“We’re not dating,” Paige answered, too quickly and with too much conviction for him. “I’m helping him look for property, that’s all.”
The women exchanged glances. “Uh-huh,” they chorused.
“So what attracted you to my cousin?” Staci asked, pushing.
“Well, actually—,” Paige began but didn’t get to finish.
“I hope you enjoyed the service,” Shannon said, squeezing in between the cousins. “I was confused also the first time I stepped into a church. Keep coming. You’ll get the hang of it.”
“This is not my first time at a church service. I have a church home,” Paige answered without conveying how much she was involved in the church.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shannon replied, apologizing. “By the way you were checking things out during the first part of service, I thought this was your first time.”
Sergio-Xavier cleared his throat to keep from laughing at Shannon’s assessment of Paige.
“So did I,” Staci added.
Paige’s arm trembled underneath his fingertips. Sergio-Xavier had to get her out of there before another emotional breakdown occurred. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, butting in, “but I know for a fact each of you has a husband and at least two kids. Go mind their business and stay out of mine for once. We have to go.”
“Don’t get beat down in church,” Staci warned.
With her free hand, Lashay pinched his arm. “Wasn’t nobody talking to you.”
“Whatever. You’re still nosy. Always have been and always will be,” he shot back.
Lashay ignored his attitude. “Yeah, I love you too, cuz,” she said and then directed her attention to Paige. “I don’t know how you deal with him.”
“It was nice meeting you, Paige.” Shannon extended her hand. “We’ll chat next time, and I’ll have Marcus autograph a CD for you.”
Paige blushed. “Thank you so much.”
Sergio-Xavier’s chest muscles constricted, but he refused to acknowledge that Paige’s excitement over another man bothered him, even if it was his cousin. “Love you, guys,” he said, addressing his family collectively, then led Paige out of the sanctuary.
The walk back to the car was totally different. Paige didn’t stare at the congregants, and she didn’t walk fast. She didn’t talk, either. On this journey Paige held her head down, and her steps were slow and gingerly. Her slight tremors were probably undetected by the throngs of people, but Sergio-Xavier’s trained eye saw them. When they arrived at her car, instead of unlocking the door, Paige stood there, looking lost. Her pain pulled his heartstrings, and his protective instincts took over.
“Come with me,” he ordered. “I have something to show you.” He expected resistance, and when Paige didn’t offer any, he unlocked his car and opened the passenger door.
“Where are we going?” she asked once they were both settled inside his car.
“It’s a surprise, but trust me, you’ll like it.”
Her lips remained sealed, but her eyes spoke volumes to him. She was tired and scared.
“Sure,” she whispered finally and then leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes.
Sergio-Xavier pulled out of the parking lot without a destination, but he was determined to make Paige feel better. He didn’t know her likes and dislikes, her hobbies, or how much time she had. What he did know was that he was more involved in Paige’s life than he wanted to be.
“We’re here,” he announced forty minutes later, after pulling into the parking lot of his favorite restaurant in Pacifica.
For the first time since entering the vehicle, Paige sat forward and took in her surroundings. “Where are we?” She nodded when he told her the restaurant’s name and location. “I’ve heard good things about this place. I’d planned on coming here one day when . . .” She didn’t finish the thought.
“I love this place. I come here often to clear my head, as well as for the food. The view of the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks are very calming.”
“Wow,” she said after stepping from the car. “The view of the bay is beautiful from here. I can’t tell where the sky begins and the ocean ends.” The five-star restaurant, which sat on the beach, had both indoor and outdoor seating.
“If it’s too cool for you, we can get a table inside,” he offered.
She turned and faced the beach. “Out here is fine.”
After securing a table facing the beach and perusing the menu, the two sat in silence, watching the waves roll in, until a waiter came to take their order.
“I see you’re staying away from those prawns?” he said in reference to the sea scallops she’d ordered.
“I love them, but I’ll probably never eat one again.”
He finally got a half smile from her. “Tell me what else you enjoy besides prawns, church, mentoring, and real estate.”
Her confused expression said she didn’t understand the question. “What else is there? By the time I finish with all of that, there isn’t time for anything else.”
“Wow. Your schedule is packed more than mine,” he commented after she ran down her weekly schedule. “What do you for fun?”
“Life is not about fun, at least not for me,” she began, then cleared her throat. “At least not at this time. Life is about serving and giving to others. I have to work out my salvation.”
He didn’t agree with the statement but refrained from saying anything that might start a disagreement. “When do you relax, or do you?”
Her despair seeped out in dry laughter. “I don’t know what that means anymore. Honestly, I don’t know who I am anymore. Three weeks ago I thought I knew myself and my purpose, but then I met you. In that short period of time you have made me question my ability to make sound decisions.” She waited until the waiter finished placing their drinks and warm sourdough rolls on the table before continuing. “I did enjoy service today. It was nothing like the fabrication I’d manufactured in my head. Pastor Pennington is a very solid teacher. I learned a lot about you today.” She took a sip of iced tea. “Are your cousins always in your business?”
He grinned. “Of course, and honestly, I don’t mind one bit. My male cousins and I did the exact same thing and worse to every one of their boyfriends. My family is very close and harmless. That is, until you hurt one of us.”
She raised her glass to him. “I’ll be sure not to do that. Why did they assume I was your girl?”
He buttered a roll and set it on her plate. “Probably because I introduced you as my guest. I’ve never had a female guest before, and I normally sit on the dais with the other ministers. Oh, and everyone is waiting for me to marry and have children.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “What about you? Tell me about your family. Do you plan to slow down long enough to marry and raise a family?”
It was pain he’d seen, only now it was more intense, causing her eyes to blink rapidly. “I’m the middle child of three, and the only one without a spouse or significant other and children. As screwed up as I am, my eggs will probably dry up before the Lord sends someone my way.”
She raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to say something to confirm her prediction, but Sergio-Xavier didn’t bite. His goal was to make her feel better, not join her pity party.
“Oh,” she said, as if suddenly remembering something. “Why did you sit next to me, instead of on the dais?”
Perfect timing, he thought when the waiter delivered her salad and his soup. Revealing to Paige that he’d sat beside her because he’d felt a divine unction that she would need him wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“Ooh, this is so good, and just what I need to clean all that grease you fed me yesterday out of my system,” she said of the spinach, dried cranberry, candied pecan, and feta cheese salad.
“Go ahead and blame me for clogging your arteries. At least you’re smiling again,” he said while adding cracked pepper to his clam chowder.
She offered him a full smile, but no words. They enjoyed the rest of the meal in a comfortable silence. The rhythmic sounds of the ocean filled the space with peace.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a beach or walked in sand,” Paige said, leaning back in the chair after savoring the last bite of cinnamon crème brûlée. “It’s been at least five years.” She looked contemplative. “I’ll have to write it into my schedule.”
He thought the idea absurd. “Why wait? I have time if you do. We can walk on the beach now.”
“No, we can’t.” She kicked her foot out and pointed at the heeled boot. “Leather boots aren’t made for sand, and neither are tailored suits and alligator shoes,” she said, noting his attire.
He pushed the chair back and bent over. “Don’t get deep on me now. Take off your boots. We can walk barefoot.” Within seconds the alligator shoes were off, his socks tucked inside, and the tailored pant legs were rolled up.
“I see you’ve done this before,” she said but still made no effort to join him.
“Sometimes I come here after a hard case and just walk for hours. Then, there are times I come to pray and mediate.”
“Maybe next time,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not prepared today. I need a pedicure first and the right outfit and . . .”
“I figured this would shut you up,” he said when she stopped talking after he lifted her left leg into his lap and unzipped her boot. “Relax and enjoy the moment. God placed this beauty here for us to enjoy.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. Just enjoy.” He took more time than he should have removing her nylon socks, but he liked the feel of her soft skin and the contours of her muscles.
“Don’t be trying to feel me up,” she warned when his hands lingered.
“If I did try, I’d get lost in all this material.” He laughed. “If you want to go sailing later, we can use your skirt as a sail.”
She kicked his leg and then stood up. “Forget you.”
He smirked. “I doubt that’s possible. Wait here,” he said, collecting their shoes and suit jackets. “I’ll put these in the car, and then we’ll walk.”
“It’s not like I have a choice.”
Sergio-Xavier considered pointing out the obvious but recognized the self-preservation tactic and continued on to his vehicle. When he returned, the table was empty. Paige had started down the beach.
For a moment, Sergio-Xavier stood watching her hold her skirt up as she gingerly stepped in the sand. The sun glistened against her ebony skin, giving her calves a glow. Even on the beach, her body language was tense. Something was driving her to “work out her salvation,” as she put it, but Sergio-Xavier wasn’t sure he wanted to dig deep enough to learn what that was.
“Having fun yet?” he asked once he caught up with her.
“Maybe.”
Her smile said what her mouth would not. She was having fun, all right, but she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d given her any joy. Her arm interlocked with his, but he doubted she realized the two resembled a couple.
“How do you manage being a minister and a doctor and remaining so normal?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what you call normal, but I handle my vocation and my profession by keeping my role in perspective.”
She stopped walking and looked up. “What do you mean?”
“My role is the same with both. I am not a healer or a savior. I am just one of the many vessels He uses to fulfill His plans. I have to totally rely on Him to do anything. I pray before I exam every patient, and I pray for everyone I counsel spiritually. I try to do only the things He tells me to and to refrain from things that are not His will. Do I always get it right? No, but that’s where the blood of Jesus comes in.”
Her eyes glossed over before she turned toward the ocean. She maintained that position the remainder of the walk, without talking. Sergio-Xavier didn’t talk, either; he spent the mile walk in silent prayer for Paige.