The Other Side of Dare Read online

  “So you’ve actually seen her perform on stage at that club where she reportedly worked?”

  “Yep. I see you’ve done your homework. But she’s a different woman now. She really is. A lot of folks I know who say they’ve changed, most times, are putting on an act to impress other folks. But Gabrielle . . . she’s the real deal.”

  Lawrence sat back down. “So why don’t you think that little girl should be with her?”

  Darius mirrored the actions of his host and sat down as well. “For one thing she’s not married.”

  “So. The world is full of single parents, many not by choice. They’ve turned out some pretty amazing children. Dr. Ben Carson for one. And, of course, Bill Clinton and Barack Obama were both raised by single mothers and they’ve done okay for themselves. Besides, a person’s status can change at any time. I know for a fact that Miss Mercedes has a boyfriend. Some doctor.”

  “You are quite resourceful. Nothing gets by you,” Darius said. “Okay. Let me be straight up with you. I want your daughter to be happy. And if she doesn’t like Gabrielle or if she thinks she should have this child, then I’m going to be on her side. That’s it in a nutshell.”

  Lawrence nodded. “You’re just trying to get my daughter in bed with you like you’ve done with countless others.”

  “I’m not going to lie: Your daughter is fine now. And if I wasn’t married—”

  “Which you are, as is she,” Lawrence said.

  “Yeah, I was just about to say that if I wasn’t married and she wasn’t married, I’d definitely be trying my best to get with her. But for now, your daughter just needs someone who will listen and who understands her. She needs a real friend.”

  “She has a husband for that. And she has plenty of girlfriends. She and her mother are also quite close and I know they talk and share pretty much everything.”

  Darius nodded. “Yeah. But from what I’m gathering, her husband is not supporting her, not on this, anyway. She said when she told him of her plans about wanting to adopt Jasmine that he blew a fuse or a gasket or something.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but they’re trying to start their own family. Andrew is like me: We don’t care for unnecessary drama, not if it can at all be avoided.”

  “That’s great,” Darius said. “I’m all for family. I just want to be there for Paris during this time. If I worked for you, I could possibly keep her mind away from this Gabrielle and Jasmine situation. Right now, it’s hard to do. You’ve had me investigated. You know that I’m married. You know I have three children. If I worked for you, I could be your eyes and ears, alerting you to potential problems and scandals brewing. I would also have a reason to be around your daughter, thereby keeping her under control for you. At least until after you win the election.”

  Lawrence nodded. “So you’re asking for a job that would include keeping my daughter occupied and in check during this remaining election period?”

  “See, we’re speaking the same language here. So what do you say about that job? I work for you on the election and as a bonus I keep your daughter in check.”

  Lawrence rubbed his chin, then scratched his cheek. “Let me talk this over with my campaign manager. We might have something for you. I’ll get back with you.”

  Darius stood to his feet. “Just don’t take too long. I promise: If you hire me, you won’t regret it.” He held his hand out to shake Lawrence’s.

  Lawrence stood up and shook Darius’s hand. “I hope not. But I haven’t said it’s a definite go yet.”

  “Well, a maybe is good enough for now.” Darius nodded. “But if you could hurry up with a yes, I’d appreciate it. You know how these doggone bills are: They wait for no one. And my bills are stacking up.” Darius left.

  Lawrence called his right-hand man, chief of staff, campaign manager, and best friend, William Threadgill. “William, I need to see you in my office. Pronto.”

  Chapter 4

  And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.

  —2 Corinthians 12:7

  William came into Lawrence’s office. “What’s up?” Lawrence sat back against his high back leather chair. “Darius Connors just left my office.”

  “That boy doesn’t give up, does he?”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  William sat down. “You want me to shut him down? We have enough on him to wreak havoc in that boy’s life, give him a good old-fashioned home whooping. He’s unemployed with a wife and three children. His credit is bad, a FICO score of about three-eighty-five. And he has a good amount of past affairs stashed away in his closet that I’m sure opening that door will keep him busy trying to explain to his wife for a few months.”

  “He still wants to work for me.”

  William laughed. “Well, that ain’t never going to happen.”

  “Yes, William. It is going to happen. Find him a place in our campaign.”

  “I thought you told me we weren’t going to be blackmailed into doing anything by anyone . . . ever. What’s up with this now?”

  Lawrence leaned in toward William. “He and Paris are getting closer. Apparently, he met with her last night. She just asked me to give him a job.”

  William began to shake his head slowly. “I don’t know about this, Lawrence. That’s playing with fire. This is your daughter we’re talking about, your married daughter. This is Paris.”

  “You mean my daughter who is determined to push full steam ahead on trying to take that child from Gabrielle Mercedes even though I specifically asked her to leave it alone? That daughter?”

  “It’s because she thinks that little girl is her half sister. You know how deep you’ve drilled the importance of family into your children’s heads. She’s doing what she thinks is the right thing to do.”

  “Since when did you become head cheerleader of Paris’s cheering squad?” Lawrence asked.

  “I’m not her head cheerleader. I’m just trying to see things from both perspectives. Listen, Lawrence, I got this gift for you to give to Paris that I believe just might make all of this go away. They’re bringing the gift here today before we leave. You can drop it off at Paris’s house. I promise with this, Paris will forget all about that little girl and Gabrielle. Then things can go back to being the normal abnormal we’re accustomed to around here.”

  Lawrence nodded. “I know one thing: I have too much going on to be dealing with Paris and her attention-getting antics and drama-queen drama.”

  “Well, I think this little surprise will be just the thing you’re looking for. You just wait and see. I’m telling you.” William snickered.

  Lawrence rang Paris’s doorbell. He’d called and told her he was stopping by. It was evident from her chilly reception over the phone that she wasn’t all that happy about his impending plans to visit.

  Paris slowly and nonchalantly opened the front door. “Hi, Daddy.”

  He gave her one quick nod. “Paris.”

  “If you’ve come here to fight with me again, then let’s just save us both the trouble—”

  “I come in peace.” He stepped over to the side, picked up the carrier purse he’d hidden from view, and held it out to her.

  “What’s this?” Paris asked, to which, almost on cue, a small head with white hair, black button eyes, and a black button nose poked forth. Paris let out a squeal and quickly, but carefully, took the puppy out of the carrier, essentially leaving her father holding the bag. “Oh, my goodness! Oh . . . my . . . goodness! It’s a Maltese! A girl?”

  “Yes, on both accounts.”

  Paris held the puppy up to her face, snuggling up to her. “Oh, Daddy! She’s beautiful! Oh, my goodness! Look at how beautiful she is.” Paris stepped into the house and went straight to the den.

  Lawrence followed after closing the front door. He laughed as he watched his daughter hugging the puppy.
“I take it you like the gift?”

  “Like?” Paris said, cradling the puppy. “I love her! Does she already have a name?”

  Lawrence shook his head. “No. She’s all yours to name as you please. She’s a purebred, complete with her papers.” He sat the pink carrier purse down on the floor.

  Paris held the puppy up in the air and looked into her eyes. “Ambrosia.”

  “Ambrosia?” Lawrence said with a frown. “You’re going to name her Ambrosia?” He laughed. “I thought for sure you’d go with a name like Snowball . . . Snowcap . . . Snowflake, maybe. I sure wasn’t expecting Ambrosia.”

  “A snow name would be much too easy . . . too predictable. My baby needs her own special name. One of my friends named her Maltese Gucci. When I saw her”—Paris held the puppy and looked into her eyes—“Ambrosia was the first thing that came to my mind. So I’m going with Ambrosia.” She lowered the puppy.

  “Well, she’s yours, so whatever name you give her is perfectly fine with me.”

  “Thank you, Daddy. You know I’ve always wanted a Maltese.” Paris got up and kissed her father on the cheek. “Give Granddaddy a kiss, Ambrosia.” Paris held the puppy up to Lawrence, pushing her toward his cheek.

  Lawrence pulled back quickly before the puppy’s mouth could touch him. “No, you don’t. And don’t be calling me Granddaddy, either.”

  “Well, you might as well get used to it,” Paris said. “One way or the other, you’re going to be a grandfather and soon.”

  “Listen, Paris. I’m the first person who’s hoping . . . praying actually, that you get pregnant soon. In fact, I pray that you’re already pregnant. More than you’ll ever know. Your mother and I make that part of our nightly prayers now. Maybe a baby of your own will take your mind off Gabrielle and that little girl.”

  “Well, so far your prayers haven’t worked because I’m not pregnant. And, Daddy, I don’t want to ruin this wonderful time we’re having now, so let’s not discuss my intentions of challenging Gabrielle for custody of Jasmine. I know you keep saying that Jasmine is not your child, but I don’t believe you.” She shrugged. “I just don’t.”

  “Paris, I’ve told you: I never had an affair with Jessica Noble. I never slept with that woman. I didn’t know that lady prior to that day we had that news conference. I don’t know what else I can do to convince you. I only met her when she was in need of a bone marrow transplant for her daughter. That was the first and only time I’ve ever lain eyes her. You’re making something out of nothing. And frankly, I have enough folks to battle without having to fight with my own flesh and blood. So can you please, please just drop all of this nonsense of you trying to take that child from Gabrielle? Just let it go. Leave the two of them alone. Please.”

  “Okay, Daddy. I’m going to say this one more time. Even if that child is not yours, she doesn’t need to be with someone like Gabrielle. I stand on that truth alone.”

  “And I’m going to tell you one more time: It’s none of your business nor is it your concern,” Lawrence said. “Why don’t you just concentrate on making your own baby while you get used to this new addition you now have before you. I was told that these little puppies require quite a bit of attention, especially at this stage.”

  Paris held the puppy up in the air as she looked into her eyes again. “She is so beautiful.”

  “Well, I’m going to get on down this road. Your mother is going to freak when she hears I got you this puppy. She’s been telling me forever how much you’ve wanted one.”

  “I have,” Paris said. “And I love you so much for getting Ambrosia for me. Thank you, Daddy. Andrew is out of town on business for the weekend. I can’t wait until he gets back on Monday and sees her. He’s going to be the one to freak.”

  Lawrence leaned down and kissed his daughter on the cheek. “Just think about what I’ve said. Okay? Work on making your own baby, and in the meantime, take care of Ambrosia.”

  Paris walked Lawrence to the door. He smiled, then left for home.

  Chapter 5

  Out of the south cometh the whirlwind: and cold out of the north.

  —Job 37:9

  “How are you, Gabrielle?” Darius asked when he saw her in the church’s vestibule following Sunday morning’s service.

  “Blessed,” Gabrielle said, holding tightly to little Jasmine’s nine-year-old hand.

  Darius bent down to Jasmine’s level. “Well, hello there, Jasmine.”

  Jasmine swiveled back and forth a few times. “Hi.”

  “My name is Darius Connors. I don’t think you and I have had the pleasure of meeting.”

  Jasmine merely smiled, then looked up at Gabrielle.

  Gabrielle moved Jasmine over to her other side away from Darius. “I’m sorry. We really need to be going.”

  Darius stood up. “Why the hurry, Gabrielle? I just wanted to show some love to the two of you. Just being a good Christian, you know?”

  Gabrielle forced a smile. “Yes, I’m sure. But I’m trying to catch up with Fatima.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. I mean, you must be blessed. She’s right over there.” He pointed toward Fatima, who began to wave near the staircase when Gabrielle looked her way.

  Gabrielle left and greeted Fatima with a hug. Darius watched as the two stepped away from the constant flow of foot traffic over to the side next to the glass bulletin case. At that moment, he wished he could read lips. From the look on Fatima’s face, it didn’t appear to be a fun conversation for either of them. He watched Gabrielle and Jasmine leave, then hurriedly made his way over to Fatima.

  “Fatima! Hold up!” he said, trotting slightly to catch up to her. The two of them hadn’t talked in a while.

  Fatima didn’t look too happy to see him. She made a loud sigh before she spoke. “What do you want, Darius?”

  “Wow, that’s certainly not a real Christian way to greet your brother in Christ. In fact, I think I’ve heard or read somewhere in the Bible that we’re supposed to greet one another with a holy kiss.”

  Fatima cocked her head to the side. “What do you want?”

  “I hear you and Trent Howard are tying the knot. Good old nerdy Trent Howard landed him a woman. I just wanted to give my heartfelt congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” Fatima said dryly.

  “I hope he knows what he’s getting and what a lucky man he is,” Darius said with a grin.

  “We don’t subscribe to luck.”

  Darius smirked. “Yeah, that’s right. I keep forgetting. I suppose old habits are hard to break.” He scanned from her face down to her neck and back up to her eyes in a purposely dramatic fashion, then smiled. “Pastor Landris and his teaching that we’re not lucky, we’re blessed. Okay, then allow me to correct myself. I hope Trent knows what a blessed man he is in snagging somebody like you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So when is the big day?”

  Fatima shifted her weight to her other side. “May fifteenth; two weeks from today.”

  “And one day after your birthday.” He smiled. “Yes.” He nodded. “I remember that May fourteenth is your birthday.”

  “Well, it’s going to be a small ceremony. Nothing big or fancy and mostly family and a fair number of friends.”

  “In other words you’re trying to politely relay to me that I’m not invited.”

  “I gave your wife an invitation. So I suppose if you’d like to come with her, nothing’s stopping you.”

  “That’s something isn’t it? How you and my wife have become such close friends the way that you have. I suppose life can be funny that way. Just one big barrel of laughs after the other, wouldn’t you say?”

  Fatima lifted up her arm and, with a certain flair, looked at her watch. “Oh, my! Look at the time. I’ve really got to be going.”

  “Of course. Well, it was great seeing you. Maybe you and I could get together for a celebratory dinner or something . . . maybe coffee before you become an old married woman. You know: One more time for old times’ sa
ke. It could end up being a double celebration. I think I’m about to land a new job any day now. I’m sure you’ve heard I got caught in this economic downturn and my job was shipped overseas.”

  Fatima shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not unless you’re planning on inviting your whole family.” She tilted her head and smiled.

  He laughed. “Now why would I want to go and do something like that?”

  Fatima straightened her head back right. “Then I guess the answer is a definite no.”

  He reached out and grabbed Fatima’s hand as though he was merely trying to shake it. “I miss you.” He took his index finger and rubbed the inside of her palm, an unspoken signal men used to let a woman know he was interested in getting with her.

  Fatima snatched her hand out of his, then leaned in close to his ear. “Well, I don’t miss you. And don’t you ever . . . ever put your hand on me again. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

  He chortled. “Wow, getting touchy in our old age, huh? I remember when you used to melt just hearing my voice. Now you’re so cold. You don’t have to worry, Miss Adams; I’m a happily married man now. Yes, that Tiffany of mine is something special, something special indeed.”

  “I hope so, because whether you realize it or not, you really have a wonderful wife. And she deserves an equally wonderful husband.”

  He smiled wide. “Will you just look at how much things have changed? Oh, and you’re doing a great job with the dance ministry. How much longer are you going to be in charge now?”

  “As long as I’m needed,” Fatima said. “I’ve got to go now.” She turned and started walking away.

  “See you later,” Darius said mostly to her back since she was gone as soon as the last word left her mouth. Darius quickly turned to leave and bumped smack into a woman. “Oh, excuse me.” He grabbed her and helped her maintain her footing.