The Sunday Only Christian: Still Divas Series Book Three Read online

  The voice that had initially been kind and concerned suddenly changed to match the nasty tone in which Deborah was shooting off. “Look, lady, I said I’m sorry. And besides, who goes walking around barefoot anyway?” He looked at the words printed on the outside of the store’s door. “Besides, it says right here”—he pointed—“shoes and shirt must be worn. Looks like you need to learn to read, and I find it ironic that you can’t, seeing that you are at a bookstore.”

  Not only had this jerk just smashed her foot, but now he was insulting Deborah’s intellect. Oh she was not about to have that. Saved or not, she was not going to take any mess from anybody. “Look, you piece of work . . .” Deborah rose up and began before that same clerk talking to her in the store hurried outside to see what all the commotion was about. She immediately put her head back down. She definitely did not want that clerk seeing her in that condition. She probably looked like a raccoon from crying.

  “Is everything okay out here?” Deborah heard the clerk ask.

  Assuming the clerk would come running to her aid, Deborah shifted her focus directly to the ground, just knowing she’d see the clerk’s little feet come running over to check on her. Deborah instantly forgot all about the pain in her foot when her blood boiled over to realize that instead the clerk had gone running over to the perpetrator’s side.

  “I’m the one out here in pain and you’re running up next to him and asking him if everything is okay?” Deborah spat at the clerk. She looked up and was about to give the clerk a dirty look when, not thinking, she decided to add a cherry on top of her tantrum sundae by stomping her foot. “Ouch!” She howled out in pain as she once again hobbled over and grabbed her throbbing foot.

  “I . . . I was just coming back for my rolling briefcase when this woman came barreling out of the store barefoot,” the man said. “I accidentally stepped on her foot.”

  The clerk paused and looked down at Deborah’s disgusting-looking toe with the nail practically hanging off, then replied to the man, “I’m sure she’ll be okay. Let’s head back inside and locate your briefcase.”

  That’s it! Deborah was going to give both Mr. Foot Stepper On-er and that clerk a piece of her unsanctified mind. She didn’t care if she embarrassed and humiliated herself more than she ever had in her entire life put together. Deborah’s eyes went from her foot to the man’s feet, then drove from his feet up to his knees. Next her eyes went from his knees, to his midsection, to his chest, and then to his face.

  Deborah had managed to keep from falling inside the store when she tripped in those four-inch pumps. She’d managed to keep from falling as she hobbled around outside on one foot while holding the other in pain. But now, as she looked into those all–too-familiar eyes, she landed flat on her butt.

  “Deborah?”

  “Lynox?”

  Chapter Three

  “You really didn’t have to wait. I’m sure you had much better things to do than sit here in the urgent care lobby waiting for me.” Deborah gave her best shot at trying to sound undeserving and humble about Lynox having followed her to urgent care, and now two hours later, after she’d gotten her toe cleaned up, still waiting to make sure she was okay. In actuality, her insides wanted to burst she was so moved. She honestly had not expected him to still be waiting for her, especially after how nasty she’d been to him for stepping on her foot. Of course, that was before she realized it was him. And that all of this had been a divine encounter, perhaps. But then again, it could have been purely bad timing and a bad case of the klutz.

  Lynox stood. “I didn’t mind waiting. I’m accustomed to waiting.” He raised an eyebrow and Deborah thought about how long he’d waited for her to come around and show an interest in him. “I figured it was the least I could do after practically taking your big toe off.” He looked down at Deborah’s bandaged foot. “I didn’t recognize your feet were the ones I’d slammed down on. Heck, I didn’t recognize you.” He stared at Deborah’s hair.

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve had my sisterlocks out for a while now.” She ran her hands through her natural hair. After wearing it in sisterlocks for years, while in Chile she’d gotten them cut off. Finding someone to tighten her locks every four to six weeks had been next to impossible, so she had decided to cut them off and let her hair grow out natural. After coming back to the States, she found a wonder salon called Synergi Salon. It was in Whitehall, which was just a little over a half-hour drive from Malvonia. And the way those women up in that shop specialized and worked with natural hair, it was well worth the drive.

  “I guess you hadn’t recognized me either.” He rubbed his facial hair. “Decided to let my facial hair grow out.” His once clean-cut, brown-skinned face was now covered in waves of hair.

  “Well, actually, I was too busy focusing on my foot.” She watched his hands massage the hair down the sides of his face down to his chin. “But the facial hair; it’s becoming.” And Deborah was becoming a little hot just picturing her own hands running the course of his face. Feeling embarrassed that Lynox might be able to detect the flushing of her blood in her cheeks, she cleared her throat and said, “Anyway, like I said, thanks for waiting.”

  He shrugged. “Like I said, it was the least I could do.” He then looked over at the reception desk. “That and pay the bill that is. I sort of saw to it that your bill gets charged to my credit card.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Deborah replied, but she was glad he did. Being self-employed, in her case, meant no insurance. A doctor visit in her home meant payment arrangements with the provider in order to cover the bill. She’d thought about getting medical insurance, but it was just so expensive, and she rarely ever needed medical care. Her baby’s father had paid all her medical bills in relation to having his child, so that hadn’t been a financial burden she had to bear.

  “Oh, but I did,” Lynox stated. “And please, if you have to make any future visits as a result, please let me know what the bill is and I’ll reimburse you.”

  Deborah knew when to accept a blessing. “I’ll do that.” And she left it at that.

  There was silence as the two just stood there basically looking over each other’s shoulders as if they were afraid to look each other in the eyes. The tension was so thick, a regular knife could not have cut through it. Oh, no—a chainsaw was needed to cut through this type of tension.

  “Seeing you back at the bookstore . . .” Lynox swallowed. “I was shocked. The last I recall you were living over in Chile.” Lynox left it at that. He was going to add, “with your ex,” but tried to remain as cordial as possible, even though over the years the thought of how Deborah had dumped him for that LeBron James wannabe made his blood boil.

  “Yeah, well, I was, but now I’m back. As a matter of fact, I’ve been back for several months now.”

  “Is that so? I’m surprised I hadn’t run into you until now.” He smirked before adding, “Literally running into you.”

  “Ha-ha. Tell my big toe that joke,” Deborah snarled.

  “I’m sorry. I guess that was in poor taste.” He looked down at her foot, which was donned in those hospital booties with the rubber grips on the bottom. “Does it hurt much?” He’d managed to wipe the smile off of his face and become serious—very serious. He asked her those words as if it wasn’t her toe that he was questioning about, but her heart instead.

  “Ummm, so-so. The doc gave me a little something. Once the goodies wear off, though, no telling.”

  “Hmmm. I know how that can be; pain that is.” He looked into Deborah’s eyes. “Especially the kind that just won’t go away no matter what you do to try to get rid of it.”

  For some reason, Deborah felt as though Lynox was no longer talking about the kind of pain from jamming a big toe. And just when she thought he couldn’t look any deeper into her eyes . . .

  “Do you know what I mean? Huh, Mrs. Culvins or Culiver or whatever your name might be now?” He tried to recall the last name of the basketball superstar she’d run off to marry.
Not wanting to lose his cool, and feeling a wave of heat coming on, Lynox knew it was time to go. “So, like I said, you get any more bills, send them my way.” Lynox turned and walked away.

  The last time Deborah had seen Lynox, she was walking out of his life. Now was she going to just stand there and let him give her the ol’ eye for an eye? No. Heck no! “Lynox, where can I find you?”

  He stopped, but he didn’t turn around to face Deborah. He turned his head so that his chin was over his left shoulder. It was as if just seeing her silhouette in his peripheral vision was enough.

  Deborah worried that she’d sounded too desperate, so she quickly added, “Where can I find you just in case I do get any more bills?” Deborah wanted to shoot herself in her good foot. Was that the best she could come up with? What was keeping her from being real and just telling him that she wanted to see him again? She wanted him again, not that she ever really had him before. She’d had a nice grip on him though, before her ex had hit the scene. It was a nice enough grip for her to know that if she’d held on long enough, right now he’d have no trouble guessing her last name: Mrs. Deborah Chase.

  “LCfantasywriter.com,” Lynox shot over his shoulder.

  “Excuse me?” Deborah’s face twisted up. Was he really doing what she thought he was doing? He might as well have just told her to Google him.

  “LCfantasywriter.com,” he repeated, knowing darn well he’d said it clearly the first time. He didn’t mind repeating it, though, as a slight grin barely spread across his lips. Fearing Deborah might see it, he turned back forward and continued. “That’s my Web site. There’s a contact form. Hit me up there if you need to.” And then he strolled through the double doors, which automatically opened for him like they knew he was the mega national–bestselling author he was. And the doors closed right in Deborah’s face like she was that groupie chick who was trying desperately to get to him but couldn’t.

  “No, he didn’t just send me through the Web site route,” Deborah said softly to herself. She let out a “tsk” sound before she herself began marching out the door. “I wish I might give him the pleasure of having me stalk him virtually. He thinks it’s cute trying to turn the tables on me?” Deborah huffed, remembering how once upon a time it was Lynox who had tracked her down via Internet. “Well, I’m going to show him cute.”

  Deborah made it to her car, started it, and just as she threw it in reverse to back out, she looked up and saw Lynox. She was parked up front in the parking lot and he was parked a few rows back, getting into his larger-than-life Hummer, which fit his larger-than-life persona. Even before he was a bestselling author with a book that had held the number one spot on every bestsellers list since it had come out three months ago, he had this superstar quality about him. Now, who he was always meant to be and had always had the confidence to know that he would be had only been validated. But all Deborah wanted was to validate who he was meant to be with: her. And that hadn’t turned out so well. Just when Deborah was about to mentally throw in the towel she reminded herself that this was only round one. She’d been in longer bouts with the devil and had prevailed. Surely she could take on Lynox—a man of flesh and blood.

  With a fresh wind of confidence blowing upon Deborah, she smiled at herself in the mirror while backing out and saying to herself, “If Mr. Lynox Chase wants a chase, then that’s exactly what I’m going to give him.” Unbeknownst to Deborah, she wouldn’t have to chase him down too long. She’d run into him again soon—sooner than she thought.

  Bam!

  The sound—the jolt. “Oh my God!” Deborah’s car came to an almost violent halt. She turned around in her seat and looked behind her. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said upon seeing the rear end of her car smashed into the driver-side door of Lynox’s Hummer. “Jesus.” Deborah immediately pulled back into her space and got out of her car.

  Lynox didn’t get out of his; he simply said through his rolled-down window, “Your toe, my vehicle.” He leaned his head out to see Deborah’s white paint mixed in with his black paint. “Guess we’re even now.”

  Chapter Four

  “Lynox, I’m so sorry. So sorry.” With her hand over her mouth in shock, Deborah walked between the two vehicles to observe the damage. Besides her paint and a small ding on Lynox’s truck, his vehicle looked as if it would be okay. The back end of her car was another story. “Man, what is that tank you’re driving made out of? Look what it did to my car.”

  “Pardon me?” Lynox chuckled, now taking the liberty to exit the car. “Don’t you mean look what you did to your own car?”

  Remembering that this was all her fault, Deborah calmed down and now placed her hand on her forehead. She felt a headache coming on. “What were you doing behind me anyway?”

  “I was bringing you these. Thought you might need them.” He held up the infamous pair of four-inch red-bottom heels. “The clerk back at the bookstore gave them to me when she gave me my briefcase.”

  Deborah felt like a vampire and that those shoes were like looking at a cross or a string of garlic or something. Bad luck was all those shoes had been. She didn’t want them. She didn’t want to see them. She turned away from them.

  “And if you don’t mind me asking”—he held his hands up—“’cause I can see how I left my briefcase”—he laughed—“but do tell me, how does one leave a pair of shoes in a bookstore?”

  All of a sudden Deborah wanted the shoes back. She didn’t want him standing there, making a mockery out of this entire situation she’d tried to orchestrate like something out of a fantasy romance novel, only to have it turn out like a bad episode of the old sitcom Three’s Company. She snatched the shoes out of his hands with an attitude.

  “Hey. Shouldn’t I be the one who’s mad?”

  “Lynox, look at my car.” Deborah pointed to the huge dent in the rear of her car. “That tank of a truck you’re driving is barely damaged. My entire trunk is practically smashed in.”

  “Oh, calm down. It’s not as bad as it looks. I’m sure your insurance company will have it in and out of a shop and back to rolling in no time. Speaking of which, I think we better exchange insurance information. Perhaps call the police even.” Lynox looked at the dent in his door and brushed his hand across the white paint that now mixed with his vehicle’s black paint. “You dinged me up pretty bad.”

  “At least all you got was a ding.” Deborah ran her hand across her own bruised-up vehicle.

  “Yeah, well sometimes what looks like a little ding can go much deeper.” Lynox looked away from his vehicle and at her. “It can be far worse on the inside than what it appears to be on the outside.”

  There was a pause after Lynox said those words. Deborah could feel him staring at her, so she looked away from her vehicle and her eyes locked with his. His electric eyes; God were they intense to Deborah. They spoke volumes, volumes more than what his words could ever mean.

  Realizing that once again Lynox perhaps might not just have been referring to the ding in his door, but the ding Deborah might have left in his heart, she stood up erect, her eyes still locked with his. “I’m sorry, Lynox. Really, I’m sorry.” And it wasn’t just her backing into his vehicle that she was sorry about. Deborah was sorry that she’d made Lynox pursue her for so long. She was sorry that once she finally let him catch up with her she led him to believe that the two could really have a future together.

  She hadn’t deliberately led him on though. Deborah had really been feeling Lynox. What single woman in her right mind wouldn’t have been feeling this man with his tight fade and sculptured body? When Deborah had first encountered Lynox, she had way too many demons she had to be delivered from before she could involve him in her life. And, unfortunately, the two had a common denominator in their lives who went by the name of Helen.

  Helen was a member of Deborah’s church, New Day Temple of Faith, and she also just happened to be someone Lynox had gone out with on a date or two. But that wasn’t the biggest of Deborah’s issues. Not o
nly did Helen know Lynox, but she knew Deborah’s demons as well, up close and personal. After all, Helen had been that stranger sitting next to Deborah in the abortion clinic years ago when Deborah got a late-term abortion when she was well into her second trimester. Helen had been so taunting that day in the clinic and then years later when she visited New Day and then joined.

  Sure, Helen had had the procedure done too, but she’d tried to make herself feel better by making Deborah feel worse. Helen had only been a “little bit pregnant” while Deborah could feel her baby moving inside of her. Helen wasn’t showing at all while Deborah was visibly pregnant. Helen never let up on making the comparisons between the two, deeming Deborah far worse of a person than she was.

  Helen’s taunting had worked. By the time Helen got finished with her, Deborah had felt like a murderer who needed to be on death row. And it ate Deborah up inside that Helen might tell Lynox about the dirty deed. It was just too much. But thank God for knowing just how much His daughter could bear and for how long.

  Getting delivered from her past and receiving both self and God’s forgiveness hadn’t been easy for Deborah. But nothing was too hard for her Lord and Savior. She came through it all with no scars, ready to receive the joy of life. That joy had included a relationship with Lynox. And just when she’d allowed herself to let go of her past and live in the now, her first love and ex-fiancé came sniffing around.

  Elton resurfacing in her life was just confirmation that the devil may be defeated, but he certainly wasn’t destroyed. Satan had influenced Deborah’s mind to believe that if she and Elton got back together again, they could right their wrong. The baby she’d aborted at Elton’s urging and with Elton’s dime, she could recreate. So basically, the devil convinced her to repeat her past sin of fornication with Elton, even after she found out he was married. So when she turned up pregnant a second time, living in the fantasy that God was giving her back the baby she’d aborted, she kept this child. Not only did she keep the child, but she gave up her life in Malvonia to move to Chile as Elton’s mistress, on his promise to divorce his wife and marry her. Now only the devil could convince a college-educated, professional, Christian woman to do something so stupid. And only God could pull her through it. And once again, He had.