A Preacher's Passion (12 page)

Passion sat in the Sheraton parking lot staring at the entrance. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure her decision to visit Lavon unannounced had been the right one. But she reasoned it wasn’t unannounced exactly: she’d left messages on both his cell and hotel phones that she had a gift to drop off. That she hadn’t heard from him was attributed to his understandably busy schedule. But a man had to come home sometime.

Passion felt an indescribable urge to see Lavon, to perhaps be with him intimately before he left. Dr. Lee had been talking about keys to victorious living, but Lavon had a whole different set of keys, the kind that had unlocked her pussy’s passion. That’s the area she most wanted victory in right now, being with him before he left LA. She knew her heart might get broken in the process, but being with Lavon was worth the risk.

Since admitting his heart was elsewhere, Passion and Lavon had only gone out once, for lunch, and rarely talked on the phone. Passion had nothing against his girlfriend in Kansas City. But Lavon was here; and if there was any chance at all that his heart could be relocated, and connected to hers, Passion was ready to try and help that happen.

Passion nervously fumbled with the package in her lap, a going-away gift she hoped Lavon would find appealing. She felt the sterling silver chain with cross pendant was an appropriate friendship present—something nice enough to remember her by yet casual enough to not make him uncomfortable. The more she thought about it, the more she felt that visiting Lavon was the right thing. He was the type of man she’d waited for, for five, long, celibate years. If she had to be a bit assertive to not let a gift like him slip through her fingers, then so be it.

Taking a last look in the rearview mirror and a deep breath, Passion opened the car door. While doing so, a black Mercedes pulled up to the valet stand. Passion turned toward her car to push her automatic lock. When she turned back, she stopped suddenly, and watched her pastor, Carla Lee, casually dressed in a warm-up suit, walk into the Sheraton lobby.

What is Pastor doing here?
Once the second of shock had passed, Passion chided herself for feeling uncomfortable at seeing Carla at Lavon’s hotel. They were working on a project together and this was Lavon’s last week in LA. It made perfect sense that there would be last minute details to go over and issues to discuss. But where was Dr. Lee? Why wasn’t he with them?
Ah, probably out of town,
Passion mused as she unlocked her car door and got back inside.

“Hmm, what are you going to do now, Ms. Perkins?” Passion asked herself as she placed the keys in the ignition. Her fingers beat a steady rhythm against the steering wheel as she pondered her options: whether to wait in the lobby, until Carla left, or maybe have a cup of coffee in the coffee shop.
They’re probably meeting in the coffee shop,
she reasoned.
But why wouldn’t they meet at the church?
She didn’t know, but she decided to find out. She’d tell the truth when she saw them—that she’d stopped by to give Lavon a gift. She’d interrupt them briefly if they were meeting, then wait in the lobby until their meeting was over. It was already eight-thirty; surely the meeting wouldn’t take too long.

Passion walked into the hotel lobby and looked around. It was a quiet Tuesday evening, with not much activity happening inside. A few people stood at the registration booth, a couple more at the concierge’s station. The light sounds of a piano coming from the atrium could be heard amid the mingling of soft voices. Passion looked around the strategically placed sitting areas for Carla and Lavon. She did a quick walk around before heading toward the coffee shop on the other side of the lobby. There were no familiar faces inside.

Of course, the restaurant.
Passion mounted the escalator for the restaurant located on the hotel’s second floor. She clutched Lavon’s gift against her chest, willing herself to remain calm. She couldn’t figure out why she was nervous anyway. It was just her friend and her pastor, after all.

Passion entered the restaurant and looked around. For as quiet as the lobby was, the restaurant was fairly crowded. She craned her neck this way and that, looking over the crowd of people.

The hostess came back to her station. “Table for one?” she asked with a smile.

“No thank you, I’m just looking for someone.”

“Please, come inside. Your party could be in one of the booths around the corner.”

“I’ll do that, thank you.” Passion passed the hostess station and walked into the restaurant. The room was L-shaped, a small portion of the seating hidden by a wall. If Lavon and Carla were back there, Passion knew she’d have to change the explanation she’d prepared of simply happening upon their meeting. The only way one could find someone this far back in the room was to deliberately look for them. “That’s what I’ll tell them,” she said to herself as she rounded the corner. “That I’m looking for Lavon.”

As it turned out, she didn’t have to say anything. Carla and Lavon were not in the restaurant. The last option, Passion decided, was that they were in a meeting room and in that case, she thought it better not to disturb them. She figured others might be at the meeting as well. To run into Carla with Lavon was one thing; to try and explain her actions to a group of Logos Word saints was another. She decided to return to her car, maybe deliver the gift another time.

That’s what she thought as she walked to the parking lot but once she reached her car, that isn’t what happened. Similar to when she’d waited for Robin to come out of the Chinese restaurant, something would not let Passion leave. Call it a hunch, an intuition, a sneaky suspicion, or just plain being nosy. But Passion wasn’t ready to go home yet.

She hadn’t been ready to leave then, but she was more than ready two hours later. Passion enjoyed a wide-open yawn as she stared at the hotel entrance. Had she missed Pastor Carla leaving? She was almost certain that wasn’t the case, but since it was almost eleven at night, she was beginning to wonder.

“Girl, what are you doing?” Passion asked herself aloud. Disgusted with the fact that she’d wasted two hours in a hotel parking lot, scoping out the lobby like some love-crazed fool, Passion turned the key abruptly and put the car in gear. As she put the car in drive and straightened the wheels, she looked over at the lobby doors one last time. There, at the valet booth, casually waiting for her car was Passion’s first lady talking to Passion’s desire. Passion watched as Carla took a compact out of her purse, patted her braids and reapplied lipstick. Lavon said something in Carla’s ear. Carla’s head reared back with laughter. While not touching, there seemed to be an intimacy to their conversation, a familiarity with which they engaged each other. Passion tried to once again employ the fact that the two worked together as reason for everything, but something about that explanation didn’t fit the situation. What would Lavon and Carla have to meet about, alone, this time of night?

Passion sat idling as a black Mercedes pulled up to the entrance, the door opened, and the valet motioned Carla over. Lavon tipped the driver as Carla got inside the vehicle. Lavon leaned his head into the car window briefly, and then watched Carla’s Mercedes until it exited onto the boulevard, before going back inside the hotel.

Passion slowly pulled her car back into the parking space, trying to figure out what she’d just witnessed. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lavon’s cell phone number. The call went straight to voice mail and the sexy sound of Lavon’s voice:
“Hello, Lavon Chapman here, owner of LC Production Company. I’m either on the other line or…”
Disconnecting the call without leaving a message, she then dialed the hotel number. Once again, she reached an answering service. Passion tried a couple more times to reach Lavon, both on his cell phone and his hotel room, without success. After a few minutes it became clear that for whatever reason, he was not available—at least not to her. She wasn’t going to hold her breath for Lavon to return her call. Her women’s intuition had kicked in full throttle. She believed she’d just discovered where Lavon’s heart was, and who else had been receiving his “key.”

Princess spewed cola across the freshly mopped kitchen floor. She hadn’t been prepared for Joni’s crazy comment about Fifty Cent looking like a quarter.

“You are a fool, Joni!” Princess said, laughing again as she reached for paper towels to clean up her mess.

“Or maybe even a dime,” Joni continued, as she added a jar of salsa to the pot of melting cheese. “No, his head’s too big to fit on a dime. Better bump it down to a nickel.”

“No, fool, Kanye’s the one with the big-ass head.”

Kanye was one of Joni’s favorite rappers. “That big-ass head can lay down on my pillow anytime! Girl, get a mop. The floor’s gonna be sticky.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Yes, it is, and I just mopped that shit.”

Princess rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She walked down the hall and came back with a damp towel.

“God, you’re lazy!” Joni teased while expertly cutting avocados for her guacamole dip. She prided herself in the fact her classmates raved about her cooking skills, skills she’d found were rare among her college classmates.

“Forget you, bitch.” Princess laughed as she put the towel on the floor and then used her feet to wipe it across the dirty spots.

“Yeah, you’re
my
bitch,” Joni countered, then changed the subject suddenly. “Brandon and Kel bettah not be out fuckin’ other girls. They’re taking a long-ass time to run a couple errands and get some chips.”

“True dat,” Princess agreed. “I don’t think so though. I think we finally got they asses trained!”

“Right!” Joni stirred the nacho sauce and nodded her head to the hip-hop music blasting from the living room. “Hey, make a batch of your margaritas.”

“Ooh, bet, that sounds good.” Princess walked to the pantry and pulled out the necessary ingredients. “We’re gonna have fun tonight, Joni girl.”

Anyone who knew the innocent preacher’s kid who’d left Kansas four short months ago wouldn’t recognize the young woman cursing, drinking, and swapping jokes with her best friend while mixing an expert batch of margaritas. But Princess felt she had never been happier, and that she knew exactly who she was—Kelvin Petersen’s woman.

Her anger at finding him humping a college classmate in their laundry room had lasted exactly seventy-two hours. That’s how long it was before Kelvin invited Princess to a private industry party for R & B crooner J. Holiday. Kelvin showered her with gifts: hooked her up in “hella Prada,” KLS stilettos, and a Tyra-like weave. Once at the party, he’d held onto Princess like she was gold, and when they saw Fawn, the female culprit of their recent romantic upheaval, Kelvin walked past her like she wasn’t even there. Princess’s heart had swelled in that moment, and all was forgiven.

“Where’s the smoke?” Princess asked.

“Go look in the room on Brandon’s dresser. I asked him to roll us a blunt before they left.”

Princess returned shortly with a lit marijuana cigarette. She inhaled deeply, inhaled again, and then passed the joint to Joni.

“Look at baby girl smoking like a pro.” Joni took a hit of the joint and continued. “I remember when you first started smoking, coughing and stuff. Girl, you were a mess.” Joni knew that before coming to UCLA, Princess had barely drunk alcohol, much less tried any illegal substance. She’d proven to be a fast learner though. Princess’s virginity had not been the only innocence lost since leaving home. Joni hit the joint again before passing it to Princess.

Princess took another long drag. “This shit is good; I’m buzzing already,” she gritted out while holding in the smoke. “You got this food situation under control? ’Cause I think I’m gonna shower and change for our little get together tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m cool,” Joni replied. “But hurry up ’cause you’re still gonna make the salad. Don’t think I forgot.”

“Damn,” Princess said, pouring a glass from the pitcher of margaritas and taking a sip. “I thought you would once you got high.” She giggled and started dancing toward the bathroom. “Don’t worry, girl, I’m good for it. One designer salad coming up as soon as I get my fine on.”

Kelvin was “getting his fine on” too, taking a long shower after spending a nice hour with insatiable campus twins Brandy and Sandy, sisters he’d been enjoying regularly for the past four weeks.

“Y’all sho’ know how to show a brothah a good time,” he said after he’d emerged from the shower and began to towel off.

“Hmm, you’re the good time,” Brandy said, sidling up to Kelvin and rubbing his naked body with her own. “Too bad you can’t stay longer. Looks like Princess has you on a leash.”

“I try,” Kelvin said modestly, responding to the compliment while ignoring the leash jab. Talk of his lovemaking skills was already common among the “KBs”—Kelvin’s Beauties—a group of about a half dozen sexual partners of which Brandy and Sandy were members. The club rules were simple: One: keep your mouth shut. Two: if you must talk (Kelvin knew that some things were just too good to keep to oneself), do so only with other club members. And three: don’t talk. In exchange, each girl received regular sex, preferred seating at UCLA basketball games, and occasional flings with Kelvin’s teammates. If Princess ever found out about any of them, for any reason, they were ejected from the club.

Kelvin hit the lock button on his key chain and climbed into the shiny, black SUV. He attached a Bluetooth to his ear and hit his cell phone’s speed dial button.

“About time,” Brandon said as he answered Kelvin’s call. “You’re about to get us in a whole heap of trouble, boy.”

“Never fear, the K-man’s here,” Kelvin answered. “We gots it all under control, son.”

“Yeah, right. Just don’t depend on me to keep covering you, dude. You’re my friend and all that, but I don’t like being a part of your cheating on Princess. It almost feels like I’m cheating on Joni just by helping you.”

“Aw, dog, don’t go getting all soft on me,” Kelvin said with a sigh. “I’m handling my business. Besides, it ain’t like I have a ring on my finger. Just stay with me, pad’na. Soon as I get this contract, everybody wins.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell me anything. You’re not even in the league yet and look at you. What are you gonna become once you get signed, K-ho?”

“More like, K-can’t-ho-no-mo,” Kelvin said with a laugh. “Once that multi-milly contract comes in, I gotta dock the dick. Can’t have the baby-mama-drama and what not.” Princess excluded, Kelvin prided himself on always using condoms.

He navigated his Jeep to the curb. “I’m here, dog, where you at?”

Brandon bounded out of the mall entrance and a short time later, he and Kelvin were back at the condo. The sounds of laughter greeted them as they opened the door.

“I see the party’s already started,” Brandon said as he leaned down and gave Joni a kiss. “Look at your eyes—you’re high.”

“Where’s the chips?” Princess asked Kelvin as he slouched down on the couch beside her.

“Aw, damn,” he replied. “Brandon forgot to stop by the store.”

Princess pushed Kelvin off her. “Uh, hello? That’s what y’all were supposedly going out to get. What happened?”

“Don’t out the pout, mamacita. We had to take care of priorities.” Kelvin nodded to Brandon, who pulled out a small packet of multicolored pills.

“You bad boys,” Joni said. She reached for the pills but Brandon pulled back. “Gimme!”

“Not yet. We’re gonna wait for the crew to arrive.” Brandon threw the packet to Kelvin, grabbed the keys from the coffee table, and headed for the door. “What kind of chips do you want again?”

While Joni answered Brandon’s question, Princess asked Kelvin, “What’s this?”

“You know what this is, girl. Stop trippin’.”

“Ecstasy?”

“Yeah, and that’s what you’re going to be experiencing later on tonight.”

“I don’t know, Kel. Blunts are cool and all, but I feel a little funny taking, you know, real drugs.”

“You’re gonna love the way they make you feel,” Joni said, coming back into the living room. “You think I’d take anything that was really going to hurt me?”

“Yeah,” Kelvin said. “And do you think I’d give my baby anything that would hurt her? This is just a little sumpin’ to help make the night right.” He rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. “Oh yeah, you got the ’ritas crackin’, fo’ sho’, fo’ sho’.” He poured a glass and walked into the dining room, where Princess and Joni had set up the food. “Man, hope Brandon hurries back with the chips. I’m hungry.”

“And the wings, y’all forgot the hot wings.” Princess came into the dining room. “It took all that time to find some drugs?”

“Girl, let your man handle his business. I’ll go back out and get the wings.”

“Never mind, I’ll have them delivered. We probably need to add some stuff anyway the way folks keep calling and inviting themselves to our spot.”

“That’s because your spot,” Kelvin said as he grabbed Princess from behind and placed a large hand on her cootchie, “is the right spot.”

“Stop it,” Princess cooed. But her actions reflected that she didn’t mean what she said.

As the night progressed, amid the food, dance, ecstasy, blunts, and margaritas that flowed like water, Princess felt a high she wished would last forever. She was having the time of her life. And just when she thought things couldn’t get better, her party became one for two and moved to her and Kelvin’s bedroom. That’s when her ecstasy went to another level, one of the Kelvin kind. For the first time, she experienced multiple orgasms, and thought Kelvin’s libido would last all night. It almost did, and as the fingers of night waved to the morning, Princess curled her satiated body next to his and thought with conviction:
I’m gonna be with this man for the rest of my life.