Promise of Forever Love Page 17
“No wine, thanks, but you can bring us some raspberry lemonade or iced tea, please,” Thomas replied.
“Certainly, sir.”
When their server had left the table, Thomas smiled at Yvonne. “So, are you enjoying yourself so far?”
“I am. You know that I am.” Yvonne giggled, then said, “When you take a girl out, you really cover all the bases, don’t you?”
“When I’ve got one shot to win a woman’s heart, you’d better believe I’m going to do my best to dazzle.”
Yvonne heard soft music begin to play, and she turned to see where the sound was coming from. She dropped her jaw when she saw four men stroll into the room playing violins. It was the most beautiful quartet she had ever heard. She turned back to Thomas and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you’re dazzling me, all right. I’m blown away by how wonderful everything has been.”
“The night is young, my sweet Yvonne. I have even more to show you.”
“More, Thomas? You’re going to be broke by the time this date is over.”
Thomas laughed. “I highly doubt that, Yvonne. The good Lord has provided for me both spiritually and financially, so I think we can afford several nights like this.”
Thomas was truly a special man. Any woman would be blessed to have him. And Yvonne was beginning to wonder if she could free herself to love again. Thomas clearly had, and he and Brenda had been married for almost as long as she and David. He had grieved over the loss of his wife, but now that two years had gone by, he had given himself permission to love again. And Yvonne was now starting to believe that she would be a fool not to give him a chance. But she couldn’t speak her thoughts out loud—not yet, anyway.
“What are you thinking about?” Thomas asked.
The man could read her like a book, but she wasn’t about to spill the secrets of her heart. “I just can’t wait to taste this food. I know it’s going to be delicious, and I haven’t eaten a thing since lunch. So, I plan to bash it as soon as it hits the table.”
“Well, you’ll get your chance in a few seconds, because here comes the food.”
Yvonne turned and watched the server as he expertly handled the tray of plates, balancing it above his head as he walked toward them. “They are quick,” she said to Thomas.
“We’re the only ones in here. They’d better be quick,” Thomas said as the server set their plates in front of them.
“It looks delicious,” Yvonne remarked. After Thomas had prayed over the food, Yvonne began to devour it. As expected, it was exquisite, and she enjoyed every bite. Even more enjoyable was the conversation she had with Thomas during the meal.
After dinner, the Rolls-Royce whisked them away, and their next stop, as Yvonne soon discovered, was Fox Theatre to see Dream Girls. They arrived at ten minutes till nine, and Yvonne assumed that they had tickets for a nine o’clock show. She had momentary apprehension about finding a seat—often, people would sit in the wrong seats because the view was better than where they’d been assigned, and she and David had often needed to find an usher to ask the occupants of their assigned seats to move—but it turned out that her worries were unfounded. She should have known that Thomas would have arranged a private loge for them. Still feeling like a queen, Yvonne practically floated to her seat, ascending the Grand Staircase to the Loge Level.
“Am I passing the test?” Thomas asked with a sly grin on his face.
She wasn’t about to give Thomas Reed a bigger head than he already had by telling him how much she was enjoying herself. “Let me see how I like this stage production, and then I’ll let you know,” she replied with a grin of her own.
“You’re a hard woman, Yvonne Milner. But that’s all right. I’m up for the challenge.”
Yvonne smiled at his comment, but as she looked into his eyes, she realized that she wasn’t hard or strong at all. As a matter of fact, her resolve was crumbling. She was weak and needed a way of escape made for her. Lord, help me, she prayed silently.
And then, as if the Lord was raining down blessings upon her, the lights turned off in the theatre and the curtains opened. Yvonne turned away from Thomas’s mesmerizing eyes, ready to watch the action on the stage.
Thomas was acting cool on the outside, but he was squirming on the inside. As the lights went down in the theatre, he sent up a silent prayer to God, asking Him to make a way out of “No way” and help Yvonne to see that she couldn’t live without him. He knew he was praying for a miracle—Yvonne was independent and self-sufficient, and he was up against the simple fact that she could live without him. She didn’t need him, or any man, for that matter, and she was more than able to take care of her own business.
Oh, she might have thought she needed him when the board was trying to vote her out of her position as senior pastor, but since that day, Yvonne had been regaining her strength steadily and walking forward into her destiny without David. And, Thomas realized, maybe even without him.
But if God was merciful—and Thomas knew his God to be full of mercy and grace—then He would help Yvonne come to terms with her feelings for him. Thomas knew full well that Yvonne cared for him. He saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him. But trying to get her to admit it to herself, let alone to him, was an entirely different matter. He leaned forward to whisper in Yvonne’s ear, but she had her eyes glued to the stage and seemed to be completely engrossed in the production, so he decided not to bother her.
Thomas had only a few more hours to make his case and win Yvonne’s heart once and for all, but he couldn’t afford to pressure her. No matter how desperately he wanted her to return his love, he just couldn’t push her into something that she might end up regretting. If they were going to be together, then she would have to come to him.
Hoping to calm his nerves, Thomas tried to focus on the show and not dwell on whether or not Yvonne would declare her love for him at the end of the evening.
At intermission, he nearly jumped out of his seat. “I’ll go get us something to drink,” he announced. “Do you want anything to snack on?”
“Are you kidding? I’m still stuffed from dinner. A Sprite will be fine, thanks.”
Yvonne beamed up at him, and Thomas almost fell to his knees right there and begged her to be his wife. But he restrained himself and then, as he made his way to the concession area, berated himself for being all kinds of foolish. He kept putting his heart out there, and Yvonne kept slapping it back. Not this time. Thomas was determined to do everything in his power to help Yvonne see just how much he cared for her, but the rest would be up to her. He’d promised her that he would leave her alone if she decided that she didn’t want anything more than friendship after their date tonight, and he was a man of his word.
He ordered their drinks and then carried them back to their loge.
“Thank you,” Yvonne said as he handed her the Sprite.
He sat down and took a sip of his cola, starting to feel calmer, more confident. Just then, Yvonne reached over and squeezed his knee. “This has been a wonderful evening, Thomas. The most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
Thomas took Yvonne’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm. “You don’t know how your words have blessed me, sweet Vonnie.”
Before he could release her hand, bright lights began flashing all around them. Thomas turned around to see a man dressed in black snapping pictures of them with a professional photographer’s camera.
“What are you doing?” Thomas yelled.
A microphone was pushed in his face by a well-dressed woman with a French manicure, who said, “Thomas Reed, can you confirm that you and Yvonne Milner are having an affair?”
Thomas heard the gasp that escaped Yvonne’s mouth and felt ill. “Let’s go,” he said, pulling her up by her hand.
They exited their loge and marched through the lounge with the cameraman and the woman reporter dogging their heels.
“Why won’t you talk to us, Pastor Yvonne?” the woman demanded. “What are you hiding?”
“Were you involved with Pastor Reed before your husband died?” the woman continued.
With tears in her eyes, Yvonne stopped and turned around to face the woman. “How can you be so cruel? Why would you say something like that?”
Enough was enough. Thomas pulled Yvonne away from the reporters. “You want to know what’s really going on?” he yelled.
Yvonne pulled at his sleeve. “Don’t do this, Thomas. Don’t tell them anything.”
“They’ll never leave us alone until we tell them, Vonnie. And I don’t care who knows how I feel about you.”
Thomas turned to the camera and said, “I will admit that I am in love with this woman. But under no circumstances have we ever been romantically involved. We are simply friends. Do I want us to be more?” He paused. “Yes,” he finished, then turned and, still holding Yvonne’s hand, walked downstairs and outside, where he called his driver to pick them up.
When they got into the car, Yvonne put her head in her lap and cried. Thomas wanted to comfort her, but when he gently touched her shoulder, she pushed him away. So, he sat in silence, waiting for her tears to stop.
When Yvonne finally lifted her head, her beautiful silk dress was blotched with wet spots from her tears and black smudges of mascara. “Why did you tell those people that you’re in love with me? Why couldn’t you just have left it alone?” she wailed.
“Baby, I’m sorry, but—”
“Don’t call me baby,” she said through gritted teeth. “I have been only one man’s baby, and I don’t want to be that for another. Not ever. Do you understand me, Thomas Reed?”
It was coming across loud and clear to him now. Yvonne wasn’t upset because they had been accosted by a nosy reporter and a cameraman. No, what had affected her to the point of hysteria was the fact that Thomas had declared his love for her. Well, he’d promised Yvonne that he would leave her alone from now on if, at the end of their date, she still couldn’t see them together. And if nothing else had shown him the truth, Yvonne’s words just now surely had. Thomas was done playing second to a ghost.
“I’m sorry that my words offended you, Yvonne. I’ll take you home, and I won’t bother you again.”
Chapter
Twenty-two
On Tuesday morning, Marvel Williams went to the correctional facility in Flint and set a captive free. Once Clarence Brown’s bond was paid, Marvel waited on the man to be released. He was in a foul mood already, what with Toya playing hide-and-seek with him all week, and having something go wrong with Clarence’s release wouldn’t help.
Marvel wanted the man as far away from Michigan as possible. He wouldn’t have put it past Yvonne Milner to pay the man’s bail so that he could attend tonight’s city council meeting and spill his guts. Marvel would spill the man’s guts himself before he allowed him anywhere near that meeting.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Clarence said when he was released. “I was going a little crazy behind bars.”
“Calm down, Clarence. You may be going back there after your trial,” Marvel reminded him.
“Still, those were not my kind of people.”
The man had just stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars from his church and now had the audacity to claim that he didn’t belong among murderers and thieves? Marvel would have laughed in his face, except for the fact that he wanted to convince Clarence that he was on his side. “You sure don’t belong with those dregs of society, but that’s where Yvonne Milner and Thomas Reed want to make sure you end up.”
“Thomas said that he would put in a good word for me at the trial if I agreed to pay back the money and tell them everything I know about your dirty dealings,” Clarence said smugly.
“And you believed him?” Marvel laughed out loud as he pulled a thick envelope from his jacket pocket. “I guess you won’t be needing this, then.” He stuffed the envelope back inside his pocket and started walking away. If Clarence knew what was good for him, he’d take the money and get out of Michigan. But if the man suddenly became afflicted with a do-gooder spirit, then Marvel would follow him and implement plan B.
“W-wait a minute,” Clarence stammered. “I didn’t say that I was going to help them; I just told you what Thomas said.”
Marvel stopped and smiled as he whirled back around to face Clarence. He took two steps toward him, then stopped, pulled out the envelope again, and extended it toward Clarence. “There’s a Greyhound bus leaving in less than fifteen minutes. Be on it, and you’ve got yourself two hundred grand.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Clarence asked, grasping for the envelope. “Get me to the bus station so I can get out of here!”
Marvel whisked the envelope out of reach. “I’ll give this to you after I drive you to the bus station.”
“I understand—you don’t trust me. Fine. Point the way to your car. I’m ready to go.”
When they reached Marvel’s BMW, Clarence said, “Hey, why don’t you give me the keys, let me drive this baby for old times’ sake?”
“You must be crazy. I’m not about to let you drive my car.”
“You didn’t mind me driving it when you wanted to pretend it was stolen,” Clarence pointed out as he opened the front passenger door and got inside.
Marvel slipped into the driver’s seat and started the car. “That was then, and this is now,” he said as he sped away.
“Oh, I see. I’ve done your dirty work, and now you just want me out of your face.”
Marvel didn’t respond.
“That’s all right,” Clarence said. “Pretty soon, you’ll see that I’m not the one you should have been worried about.”
“Oh, yeah? Who else should I be worried about?” Marvel asked, gripping the wheel. He was extremely tired of Clarence and just wanted to be done with him.
“How’s Toya?” Clarence asked.
The way he asked—as if he knew that things weren’t right between him and Toya—really ticked Marvel off. “What’s Toya got to do with this?” he demanded.
“Oh, I’m not saying another word until I get my money. Now, if you want to know what’s up, I suggest you hand over that envelope.” Clarence held out his hand expectantly.
But Marvel didn’t budge. He kept driving until they reached the bus station, then pulled his car into the parking lot and braked to a stop. Before Clarence could get out of the car, Marvel turned menacing eyes on him and grabbed his shirt collar. “Whether you know it or not, I spared your life today. Don’t tempt me to regret it,” he growled. “Now, I asked you a question. What do you know about Toya?”
Clarence wrenched out of Marvel’s grip and leaned against the door. “Look, don’t get mad at me because you can’t keep track of your woman,” he said, smoothing his shirt.
“You better start talking.”
“All right, all right. Toya came to see me last week. She told me that she read the e-mail I sent to you and that she wanted to know more about the undocumented workers you hired. I didn’t tell her anything. But Toya is a lawyer. I’m sure she can find things out on her own if she wants to.”
Marvel shook his head. It made sense to him now why Toya had suddenly distanced herself, claiming that she had so many meetings and deadlines that she couldn’t spend any time with him. All of that had started the day after he’d allowed her to use his computer. Marvel could have kicked himself. He’d forgotten that his e-mail account had been open, not that he ever would have guessed that Toya would snoop around in there. He’d been trying to figure out a way to destroy Yvonne but still keep his relationship with Toya intact, not wanting to lose her. But that didn’t matter to him
anymore. It seemed that Toya was just as low-down and conniving as her mother.
Marvel turned on Clarence again. “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t kept bothering me about that money, this never would have happened.”
“Maybe you should have just paid me in the first place, and then I wouldn’t have bothered you at all.”
Marvel rolled his eyes. “I wish I could take you back to jail and get a refund. You are really worthless, you know that?”
“Look, just give me my money, and I’ll get out of here. Isn’t that what you want? For me to be out of here before the city council meeting tonight?”
Marvel took the envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Clarence. “Yeah, get on out of here. I don’t care where you go, just don’t come back here unless it’s with a police escort.”
“You’re a funny man, Marvel,” Clarence said. As he got out of the car, he muttered something else that Marvel couldn’t quite make out.
As he sped away, though, it came to him: “But I think Toya’s going to have the last laugh on you tonight.” He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned an angry red. He was losing control of the situation. He had risked his entire plan just to have Toya.
Marvel’s father had been in the same situation years ago with his wife. The woman had been a total ingrate. All she’d ever done, in Marvel’s memory, had been to whine about how many times Carter Williams had hit her. And then, one day, she’d been determined to make the hitting stop—the day she’d finished reading Girl, Free Yourself. Yes, Jamica Williams had left her man and tried to start a new life without him, just as Toya was attempting to do. But Carter hadn’t let that happen, and neither would his son. Toya would regret the day she decided to turn against Marvel Williams.
He made it back to Detroit in fifty minutes flat and headed straight for the law firm where Toya worked. There was an empty spot two cars down from Toya’s. Perfect. It was three in the afternoon; he could stand to wait until she got off work. She would probably leave around five or five thirty if she was planning to rat him out at the city council meeting, which started at seven. Marvel checked his glove compartment for his Glock 17 semi-automatic pistol, which he had a license to carry, thank you very much.