A Sin and a Shame Read online

  Praise for A Sin and a Shame

  “A Sin and a Shame is Victoria Christopher Murray at her best…. A page-turner that I couldn’t put down as I was too eager to see what scandalous thing Jasmine would do next. And to watch Jasmine’s spiritual growth was a testament to Victoria’s talents. An engrossing tale of how God’s grace covers us all. I absolutely loved this book!”

  —ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Essence bestselling

  author of I Know I’ve Been Changed

  Praise for Grown Folks Business

  “Grown Folks Business is a wonderful testament of love, faith, and forgiveness and readers will find themselves still thinking about the characters long after they’ve turned the last page.”

  —Kimberla Lawson Roby, author of the New York Times bestseller The Best-Kept Secret

  “Christopher Murray is known across genres for her ability to help the reader connect with the characters, offer compassion, and open one’s eyes to all facets of a situation. Because of its subject matter, it should be read by everyone, not just by those merely looking for entertainment as it offers so much more.”

  —RAWSISTAZ.com

  “Grown Folks Business is a worthy addition to this talented author’s body of work. Fans of Ms. Murray will enjoy this inspiring story of forgiveness, compassion, understanding, and love.”

  —Romance in Color.com

  “You know a book is good when you hate to see it come to an end. Grown Folks Business is a well-written novel about a faith-filled woman’s struggles to rebuild her shattered life—a novel that readers should widely embrace.”

  —Cydney Rax, Book-Remarks.com

  “Victoria Christopher Murray provides a richly detailed backdrop to a story of faith, hope, and love in the face of betrayal sure to delight and challenge readers.”

  —Jacquelin Thomas, author of

  Soul Journey and Saved in the City

  “Victoria Christopher Murray has written an explosive story about picking up the pieces when a longtime love goes really, really wrong. Grown Folks Business rattles the relationship cage and gets to the heart of what’s serious and painfully real.”

  —Lolita Files, author of Tastes Like Chicken

  “A moving and realistic portrayal of a woman’s journey from betrayal to triumph while never losing sight of God’s grace and mercy.”

  —Francis Ray, author of Like the First Time,

  I Know Who Holds Tomorrow, and Trouble Don’t Last Always

  “Hard-hitting. Thought provoking. Attention grabbing. Hands down, Ms. Murray’s finest writing.”

  —Patricia Haley, author of No Regrets and Still Waters

  Praise for Truth Be Told

  “Truth Be Told is exceptional and a must-read. Murray tackles topics such as AIDS, infidelity, God, drugs, atheism, and politics in such a way that when you close the book not only do you feel satisfied, but you feel like you can jump over any hurdle that may be in your life.”

  —Ericka P. Thompson, The Indianapolis Recorder

  “I found myself touched by the characters and know that there won’t be any dry eyes when readers come to the close of this very profound spiritual journey.”

  —Wayne Jordan, editor in chief of Romance in Color.com

  “Victoria Christopher Murray is back! Once again she’s given us a fast-paced novel about people of faith who must face real-life challenges.”

  —E. Lynn Harris, author of

  What Becomes of the Brokenhearted

  “Truth Be Told is a truly enjoyable story. The unforgettable characters lend an air of reality to this emotional and engaging read. Her latest is sure to please fans and resonate long after the last page is turned.”

  —Jacquelin Thomas, author of Soul Journey

  “Truth Be Told dishes a healthy dose of pure drama as it careens down a path plagued with infidelity, desperation, greed, and a series of consequences, which can only be overcome through grace.”

  —Patricia Haley, bestselling author of No Regrets and Blind Faith

  “With memorable characters, Truth Be Told is an entertaining, suspenseful, and page-turning read. I loved it!”

  —Kimberla Lawson Roby, author of

  Too Much of a Good Thing

  “Mystique and miracles converge in Victoria’s third and most absorbing work to date. My soul was enlightened and blessed all the while my heart jeered and cheered. Your breath will catch in your chest in the first chapter and you won’t be able to exhale until the last paragraph! Congratulations and welcome back Ms. Murray.”

  —Parry “EbonySatin” Brown, author of Sittin’ in the Front Pew

  Also by Victoria Christopher Murray

  Grown Folks Business

  Truth Be Told

  Temptation

  Joy

  Blessed Assurance (contributor)

  TOUCHSTONE

  Rockefeller Center

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2006 by Victoria Christopher Murray

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  TOUCHSTONE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Designed by Jamie Kerner-Scott

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7432-9335-8

  ISBN-10: 0-7432-9335-5

  Visit us on the World Wide Web:

  http://www.SimonSays.com

  A Tribute to My Father

  It happened again.

  During the middle of writing this novel, my father, Edwin Christopher, passed away suddenly. I didn’t think life could be this brutal. This is the second time, while trying to write a novel that exalts God, that I’ve lost someone so close to me. And like the last time, grief wrapped its arms around me and I knew that I would never survive. How could I? How could I survive—losing the first man I ever loved? The man I’ve loved longer than any man in my life? The first man to make me feel special, told me I was a queen, convinced me that I could do anything. My father had many successes and achievements in his life, but I know the most important to him were that he loved God without reservation, loved his wife for more than fifty years, and loved his daughters unconditionally. He gained the respect and admiration of all who knew him and the many who just happened to cross his path. My sister, Cecile, said it best—Edwin Christopher was a man of solid character and all of his daughters just wanted to be half the woman that he was a man. It seemed too cruel that God would take him away from us. After all, he hadn’t been sick. Just went for a walk one Monday morning…

  And then it happened again.

  God showed up. Well, that may not be the correct way to say it, because God was always there. He never left—even though there were more than a few moments when I questioned Him. My father’s passing had obviously been a mistake; the first mistake He’s made in all of eternity, and it had to be with my dad. For the first time since coming to know God, I was mad. At Him!

  But then I heard the voice of God. And I listened. There was no reason to look at this as a loss. I had gained so much just by having Edwin Christopher as my father.

  And then it happened again.

  I was comforted and I was healed.

  So, this is a tribute to my father—my earthly one and my heavenly one. Thank you, Daddy, for being such a tremendous father. I was always so proud to be your daughter—to look like you, walk like you, speak like you. I
will always love you and you will always be my daddy.

  And thank you, Heavenly Father, for your long-suffering love. In spite of myself, you keep on loving me, and keeping me, and holding me. I would have never been able to walk through these months without you. And I would have never completed this novel without your constant nudging that in spite of life, your will must continue to be done.

  Prologue

  JUNE 4, 2004

  This was not the way Jasmine had planned to spend the night before her wedding. Her fingers squeezed the toilet’s edge as she crouched over the commode, her knit dress hiked high around her hips.

  Celebratory sounds drifted into the bathroom from outside. The cheers continued, the toasts kept coming—all without her. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she had many friends or family there to celebrate with her. Tomorrow, her sister, Serena, godbrother Malik, and their two assistants, Gabriella and Tina, would be sitting alone on the left side of the church if they kept with tradition.

  At least her fiancé was loved and respected enough to fill the church with hundreds who would see her fantasy come true. Even now, she anticipated the “oohs” and “aahs” that would ring through the sanctuary when the oversized doors of City of Lights at Riverside Church opened and everyone saw her draped in the fifteen-hundred-dollar designer dress. Then there would be the horse-driven carriage that would carry her and her new husband to the reception at Tavern on the Green.

  Jasmine took another deep breath, and pushed herself up. But her stomach rumbled and she sank onto the toilet seat.

  “Jasmine?”

  She almost groaned at Gabriella’s Spanish accent. Jasmine didn’t like her. Just put up with her because Malik wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Jasmine?”

  “I’m in here, Gabriella.”

  “Are you all right? You’ve been gone for a while.”

  “I’m fine,” Jasmine said, not rising. “I’ll be right out.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jasmine closed her eyes. Leave me alone. “I need a moment.”

  She heard the door swing open then close, muffling the joy from the party and returning her to her silent sanctuary. All she wanted to do was rush home and collapse into bed, but that couldn’t happen. Any minute now, her fiancé was liable to start banging on the door, wondering where was his “darlin’.”

  She stepped outside the stall and wobbled across the Italian tiles. Grabbing a tissue from her purse, she dabbed at the perspiration on her forehead. She kept her glance away from the mirror. Didn’t want to look into her eyes. Didn’t want to see the question because she already knew the answer.

  Finally, she allowed herself to glimpse at her reflection.

  “Am I pregnant?” she whispered to her image. She had to fight to keep the tears away. Fight as hard as she did to keep the nausea away.

  “Oh, no,” she cried. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no!”

  Chapter 1

  JANUARY 2004

  Jasmine swung the designer dress in front of her as she gazed into the mirror. “Can you believe this is a size six?”

  Serena leaned against the silk pillows stacked against the bed’s headboard. “I can’t believe you bought all these things,” she said to her sister. “How are you going to pay for this?” Serena motioned toward the bags and boxes strewn across the room.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Jasmine said, fixing her eyes on her reflection.

  “You didn’t answer mine.”

  Jasmine faced her sister with raised eyebrows. “Why are you worried? Dad left us—”

  “Not enough for you to be going off like you’re Oprah.”

  Jasmine sighed. That was what was wrong with Serena. She lived life in the middle. She lived in a middle-class neighborhood, with a middle-class job, trudging through her middle-class life. But there was nothing “middle” about Jasmine. She lived outside of the box where she knew all the abundant blessings could be found.

  “Can you believe this is a size six?” Jasmine repeated, turning back to the mirror, this time with a silk pantsuit draped in front of her.

  A slight smile crossed Serena’s lips. “You do look good, girl.”

  Jasmine smiled too. She’d worked hard to lose twenty pounds and get in top shape for her mission.

  Serena sighed. “Wish I could do that.”

  “I thought you’d joined Curves.”

  Serena waved her hand in the air. “Girl, I’m a Curves dropout. The women there were looking at me like they wanted me to really exercise. I pretended I had to go to the bathroom, and snuck out the back door.”

  Jasmine laughed. “Well, you should take up running, like I did.” She didn’t mention that along with her almost-daily sixty-minute runs, she’d spent hundreds of dollars on laxatives in the last three months.

  Serena said, “I ain’t running nowhere. I’ve decided that I am perfectly fine in my size eighteen.” Serena squinted as her sister primped in front of the mirror. “Seriously, Jasmine. I’m worried about you.”

  “No need. I’m just preparing for my new life in New York. I plan on having much sex in the city and I’ve got to be ready.”

  “Girl, you need Jesus,” Serena said, holding a Bible above her head. “That’s why I bought you this.”

  “I’ve already got one of those.”

  “You can’t have too many,” Serena said, as she tucked the book inside the nightstand drawer. “With the way you’re acting, you need Jesus all around you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You, of all people, know how much I love God.”

  “And I would know this how?”

  “Like you never noticed who was sitting next to you every Sunday the last two years.”

  “Honey, there are plenty of unsaved folks parked in pews all across America.”

  “Well, I’m not one of them,” Jasmine said, thinking how she’d changed since she’d asked Jesus into her heart. Not only was she in church every Sunday, but she had even remained celibate her first year in Florida. Almost 365 days—and she had counted every one of them. “I gave up a lot for the Lord.”

  Serena laughed. “What did you give up?”

  Jasmine faced her sister. “I gave up married men. I may not be all holy like you, but I’m making progress.”

  Progress indeed, Jasmine thought. Two years ago, she’d made a list of promises: Besides swearing to never again have sex with a married man, she vowed to never miss a Sunday service. And, she pledged never to tell a lie—if she didn’t have to. She was living the Christian life and was pleased that she’d kept her commitments to God.

  Serena sighed. “I pray for you, girl. I pray every day.”

  “You don’t have to worry. All I’m doing is getting my groove back.”

  Serena shook her head. “That’s why you bought all these clothes? To have sex?”

  “No, silly. The clothes are an investment.”

  Serena glanced around the master bedroom of the condo her sister had just purchased. “I thought this apartment was an investment.”

  Jasmine shook her head as if she was tired of explaining this. “I’m investing in my life. These clothes are going to help me find my next husband.”

  Serena moaned.

  “You can groan if you want,” Jasmine said, now holding a black knit mini dress in front of her. “By this time next year, I’m going to be Mrs. Somebody Important.”

  “Why is getting married suddenly so important to you?”

  Jasmine had asked herself that question so many times. It wasn’t that getting married was important. It was that she’d been single long enough, and it wasn’t like she was getting younger. It was time to settle down—again.

  “I just want to be married. And you know how I get when I want something.”

  Serena peered at her sister and Jasmine could almost hear her thoughts.

  Jasmine said, “I’m fine.”

  Serena kept her stare on her sister for a bit longer. “I hope so
,” she said before she stood and, with her hands, pressed the wrinkles from her jeans. “Well, Big Sis…” Serena slipped into her down overcoat.

  Jasmine held up her hand. “I told you not to call me that anymore. I don’t want you making a mistake around anyone.” She returned to admiring herself in the mirror. “Remember, I’m thirty now.”

  “Oh, Lord.” Serena looked up at the ceiling. “Forgive me, Father, for calling on you like that, but this child needs some help.” She returned her glance to Jasmine. “How are you thirty, when I’m thirty-five, and you’re almost five years older than me?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Please.”

  “I mean it, Serena. I’m thirty now. Look at me,” Jasmine said, sweeping her hand down her side.

  “You need to look at your birth certificate.”

  Jasmine waved Serena’s words away. “Like anyone is going to ask to see that.”

  “What about your driver’s license?”

  “I’ll think of something. Your job is to just remember that I’m thirty.”

  Serena held her hands up. “Whatever. Listen, what time are we leaving for church tomorrow?”

  “Malik said he’d meet us at the hotel at ten-thirty. We’re going to take a cab uptown.”

  “Uptown?” Serena grinned. “You got the lingo down.”

  “Honey, I’m a New York City girl for real.”

  “Whatever you are, I’m outta here,” Serena said, sliding into a pair of gloves. “I want to pack tonight so I can make the three o’clock train. If I miss that one, I’ll have to wait until seven. And I want to get away from this cold, girl. A week in New York in January is enough for me.”

  Jasmine laughed at her sister, the Florida girl, wrapped snuggly in a white down coat, looking like the Michelin man. “You’re still going to take the train home?”

  “Yeah, I like the ride.”

  “You only like it because it’s free.”

  “Duh, who doesn’t like something free? Jerry didn’t work at Amtrak all those years for nothing,” she said, referring to her husband who had passed away six years earlier.