Delilah (2 page)

“Julia's been trying to reach you all night,” Kelly Judges, Samson's mom, said to her son over the phone.

Samson could hardly get a word in. At times, he would hold the phone away from his ear. When he tried to say something, he was cut off again. He finally said to his mother, “I'll call her.”

“You do that. I hope you weren't unavailable because of Delilah. I told you there's something about that woman I just don't like.”

Samson wondered how his mom seemed to always know what was going on in his life. He assured her, “Mom, nothing is wrong. I'll call Julia and all will be well. Trust me.”

“In God I trust only,” she responded. “Just make sure you straighten it out. Your wedding is two weeks away. There's still a lot to do.”

He listened to his mom go on and on about his upcoming nuptials. One would think she was the one getting married instead of him. “I've waited all my life to see my only child get married. Now whatever is going on with you, deal with it before you say the words ‘I do,'” Kelly said.

“Yes, ma'am,” he responded. At least she cut off her usually long lecture before she got to the part about how long she had prayed for a child and after twenty years of marriage, the Lord blessed her and his dad with a son. His mom informed him at an early age that she had given him to God the moment she found out she was pregnant.

Because of the constant reminder of his obligations, Samson, at thirty years old, did his best to stay on the straight and narrow. Even in his teen years, when some pastors' kids, or PKs as most people called them, were being rebellious, he did the opposite. He avoided trouble and didn't mind spending most of his time in church right under his dad's coattail as he learned more and more about God's Word.

As soon as Samson hung up the phone with his mom, he reminisced about the night before. It had been obvious to him from the moment he met Delilah that she was different. He was used to putting off women's advances, but there was something about Delilah and her model height that caused him to throw caution to the wind and give in to the desires she stirred up in him.

He knew he shouldn't be having the carnal thoughts that crept in his mind every time she came into view. Delilah changed her hairstyle like most women changed clothes. He never knew what to expect. One thing that didn't change was her curvaceous figure and sweet, alluring perfume. His father had warned him about what to expect as a pastor when it came to women. That was one reason why his father insisted he get married. He said a single man over a church would cause many to sin, and he was right about that. He had only been the pastor for a year, and although Peaceful Rest had seen an increase in membership, it was obvious many of the new female members were there only in hopes of snagging a husband, and not just any man—him as their golden prize.

The phone rang again. Elaine Benjamin, his secretary, would answer and let him know if he needed to pick up the call. He was lucky Elaine decided to stay and work for him when his father, Regis Judges, decided to retire at the age of seventy-six. He knew stepping into his father's shoes as pastor would be a challenge.

Elaine, five feet even with heels on, walked into Samson's office handing him a pink slip of paper. “William Trusts says he'll be waiting on your call,” she said.

Samson took the paper and balled it up before aiming for the trash can as if he was shooting basketball. “I hope he's not holding his breath.”

“Would it really hurt you to meet with him? At least one more time?” she asked as she stood in front of his mahogany wooden desk.

“It's only a waste of time. Unless the Lord places it on my heart to give up the land that Trusts wants, I will not, nor will Peaceful Rest, have anything to do with him,” Samson said sternly. Samson and the church had agreed to use the land they had purchased on the south side of the neighborhood to build a community action center, something that in Samson's opinion would be more beneficial than a shopping center.

“It would be something good for the community. It'll bring jobs,” Elaine added.

“I refuse to make a deal with the devil. And Trusts should be wearing a red suit instead of those black pin-striped ones he likes to wear,” Samson said.

“Pray about it again. I have to finish up the programs for Sunday, so I'll let you do what you do.” Elaine turned around before walking out the door. “I forgot to tell you, Julia will be here any minute.”

Before Samson could take in what Elaine had said, Julia stormed into the room almost running Elaine over. “I'll be out here if you need anything,” Elaine said with a raised eyebrow before shutting his office door.

“Samson Judges, I've been calling you all night,” Julia said, sounding agitated.

“I—” he stuttered.

Julia stood in her cream-colored designer suit with her hands on her hips. Her arched eyebrows were coming together due to the frown on her face. She used her freshly manicured nails to illustrate her frustrations as she talked.

“Don't even think about lying to me because I sat outside of your house until two in the morning and you, mister, didn't return home.”

“What had happened was…someone called and needed prayer. It took longer than I had expected, so I just spent the night.”

Julia walked closer and stood over Samson. “Who was the person? You could have prayed for them over the phone.”

“You know I like to be sitting face-to-face with people when I can,” Samson responded.

Julia folded her arms and tapped her feet. “I'm waiting. Who was this person in desperate need of prayer?”

Samson mumbled, “Delilah,” but it sounded like he said, “David.”

“Oh, now you act like you can barely talk,” Julia said.

“It doesn't matter. It's done and over with. I'm here. You're here,” Samson said as he stood up and tried to wrap his arms around Julia.

Julia resisted at first. Samson touched her chin. “Come on. Let me see those dimples. Pleeeease,” he cooed.

Julia pouted. “Samson, I don't know if I'll be able to deal with this as first lady—the midnight calls and not knowing when you'll be home. I just don't know.”

Julia turned away from Samson and walked near the large bookshelf located on the opposite side of his office. Samson went and stood beside her. He reached for her hand. “Julia, you'll be a perfect first lady. You are my Proverbs thirty-one woman. Peaceful Rest will be blessed to have you as its first lady. Not to mention me.”

Julia's frown turned to a smile. “I guess the wedding is stressing me out.”

“It's going to be all right. In two weeks, we'll both look back on this time and laugh.” Samson rubbed her hand and then pulled Julia in for a hug. He got a strange feeling that between now and their wedding, the drama was just beginning, and it'd be no laughing matter.

Delilah sat in the church parking lot listening to her favorite morning show as she attempted to calm her nerves. She could slap Elaine for not putting her call through to Samson. She knew why her calls were being filtered when she pulled up on the lot and saw Julia's green Mercedes parked next to Samson's SUV. Delilah watched from a distance as Samson walked Julia to her car.

He's such a gentleman,
Delilah thought as she watched him hold Julia's door open.

She waited until she was sure Julia was off the church grounds before zooming in to the parking spot Julia had just abandoned. Before Samson could re-enter the church, Delilah was on his heels. “Just the man I wanted to see,” Delilah said as she touched his shoulder.

Startled, Samson jumped before turning around. “Whew, Delilah. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Pretending to be shy, Delilah apologized. “I hated the way you left this morning.”

Samson interrupted her. “Let's stay outside. I don't want anyone to hear our conversation.”

“But, Pastor, it's eighty degrees out here, and you know brown sugar melts,” Delilah teased with her eyes.

“It is hot for April. Follow me to my office. I'll just tell Elaine to hold all of my calls.”

Delilah smiled as she followed him to his office. She didn't bother to speak to Elaine as they passed by her. In the past, Elaine had made it obvious that she didn't like Delilah, and as far as Delilah was concerned the feelings were mutual.

As soon as Delilah closed and locked Samson's office door, she pounced on him. Samson didn't resist her as she stuck her tongue down his throat. He moaned, giving her the desired effect she wanted, and that's when she pulled away from him. She straightened her skirt and took a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk.

It took Samson a minute to recover from the French kiss. “Delilah, we can't keep doing this,” he said as he took a seat behind his desk.

Delilah made sure the short skirt she wore eased up even more as she crossed her legs, giving Samson a view of what he would be missing if he didn't continue their liaison. “You still have time to call off your wedding,” she said.

“Why would I do that?” Samson asked, looking puzzled.

Delilah leaned in closer, showing her cleavage. “You could have this every night if you would tell Ms. Prissy to take a hike.”

“I love Julia,” he responded.

Delilah laughed. “Yeah, right. If you loved her so much, there's no way you would have been in my bed.”

“That was an accident. I had too much to drink.”

Delilah enjoyed watching Samson squirm. He didn't think she would let him get off the hook that easily, did he? She was not a piece of old clothing he could just throw away. No, she was human. She was flesh, and she was in love with him.

“Is that the excuse you're going to give her when she finds out about us?” Delilah asked.

“There's no need for either one of us to say anything to Julia. It happened one time, and it won't happen again,” Samson said in a low voice.

Delilah stood up and eased her skirt up over her hips. She walked around the desk and swirled Samson's chair around.

“What are you doing?” Samson asked, stuttering.

She sat her naked bottom on his lap. “Oh, you might be a man of God, but you know exactly what I'm doing. And if you don't, he sure does,” Delilah said, pointing between his legs.

Samson panted, “The door. Anybody could walk in.”

“The door is locked. The only way anyone will know what we're doing is if you make noise.”

“We can't,” Samson said unsuccessfully as Delilah unbuttoned her shirt.

Samson's resistance turned into participation as he played with Delilah's chest, and they both went at it as if they were at a buffet and hadn't eaten in months.

Less than thirty minutes later, Delilah viewed herself in the mirror and fixed her hair. She put on more lipstick so she wouldn't raise any suspicion with Elaine. “Now what was that you were saying about us?” Delilah asked as she turned around to face Samson.

Samson scared her when he fell down on his knees and started praying. “Father God, please forgive me. Lord, I'm weak. Temptation keeps knocking at my door, and I keep answering. Please remove the desires of my loins so that I can remain faithful to you, Lord. Lord, please forgive Delilah, as she is only a pawn of the enemy. Change her heart so she too can resist the temptations of evil. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.”

Delilah didn't know if she should be mad or throw in an amen herself. There was some truth in his prayer. She was being used by his enemy to get him to do something he didn't want to do. Now, the fact that he was a willing participant in sleeping with her not once, but now twice, didn't have anything to do with William Trusts or the devil. He slept with Delilah of his own accord. Delilah knew it, and Samson did too. Delilah wanted to tell him while he was down praying to ask God to forgive him for lying—lying about not wanting her the way she knew he did, or the way she wanted him.

“Pastor, I'm leaving you for now. This thing between us”—Delilah pointed her finger at him and then back at herself—“is just getting started.”

Delilah left Samson staring at her as she walked out of his office. Elaine rolled her eyes at her when she walked by her desk. Delilah put more bounce in her step and slung her shoulder-length hair weave as she walked toward the bathroom.

While Delilah was washing her hands, Elaine entered the bathroom. “I know what you're doing, but it's not going to work,” Elaine said with clenched teeth.

Delilah viewed herself and Elaine in the mirror. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Elaine stepped closer. “Look. I can see through the games. Pastor can't, but I can. There are plenty of single men in this church. Go try to snag one of them.”

“It sounds like someone is a little jealous,” Delilah said. “What is it about me that you wish you had?”

Elaine didn't bother to respond. She left Delilah in the bathroom with a huge grin on her face. “I don't know who she thinks I am,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “I don't care if you're short or tall, big or small, I come from the Grove, and in the Grove we'll snatch anyone up who steps to us the wrong way.”

Elaine had Delilah reminiscing about her earlier years when she had to fight just to survive the streets. That was an era in her life she was really trying to forget, but folks like Elaine and William just wouldn't let her.

Samson did his best to concentrate on his upcoming nuptials, but thoughts of Delilah in his office a few days ago seemed to be on the forefront of his mind. He prided himself on walking in the Spirit of the Lord, but lately lust for Delilah had taken center stage. He stared out the window at the open space in his backyard. Thoughts of Delilah were soon replaced with thoughts of the family he would have with Julia—the woman he loved.

“Lord, why now? I've been able to control my carnal nature for years. Now that you've sent me the woman I've prayed for, why now?”

He walked away from the window and took a seat behind the desk in his study. He picked up the black leather Bible his father had given him the day he dropped Samson off on the campus of Grambling University his freshman year. He could recall the speech he'd given him also. “Son, I've tried to protect you as much as I could. You're going to be faced with many temptations. Don't try to fight them on your own. I'm giving you a new Bible to start a new stage of your life. Use it. Let God fight your battles.”

During his time at Grambling, Samson was able to resist drugs and alcohol, but he wasn't prepared for the onset of girls who constantly hounded him. His innocence and Creole good looks, combined with his Southern charm, was an automatic attraction. He spent many nights going from one young woman to another. He barely passed his freshman year. He gave his parents the lame excuse of trying to adjust to being away from home for his lackluster grades.

The cell phone ringing brought him out of his thoughts. He hadn't bothered to look at the caller ID. The voice of the one person he had been trying to avoid for the last few days squealed from the other end. “Why aren't you returning any of my calls?” Delilah asked.

Samson leaned his head back in his chair and swiveled it around. “I've been busy.”

“We need to talk.”

“There's nothing else we need to talk about. What happened in my office the other day was a mistake.”

Delilah seemed to purr her words. “We both know you wanted it as much as I did.”

Samson couldn't argue with her. Delilah told the truth. He hated himself for succumbing to her, so his only recourse was to keep his distance—by any means necessary. “Let's pretend like none of this happened. We can go back to being just friends.”

“Friends? You have got to be kidding.” Delilah laughed.

Samson's doorbell rang. He held the phone, listening to Delilah go on and on. He was grateful for the interruption. He would thank whoever it was responsible for getting him off the phone. He opened the door, and to his surprise Delilah stood on his front porch. She closed her flip phone. “Surprise,” she said, with an evil grin, moving past him into his house without waiting for an invitation to enter.

She turned and looked around. “You have a nice home, Samson. I've wondered why you never invited me over before.”

Samson stood by the door, never taking his hand off the door knob. “Delilah, what are you doing here?”

She removed the dress jacket from her shoulders and threw it on the chair. “Like you don't know.” She began to unbutton her shirt.

Samson rushed from the door and grabbed her jacket. “This has to stop.”

Delilah swayed her body from side to side. “It doesn't have to.” She continued to unbutton her blouse.

Samson's reflex automatically threw the jacket at Delilah, throwing her off guard. She bent down to get it, but while stooped she moved closer to Samson.

“What is going on here?” Julia asked, as she whisked through the opened door.

Samson, stunned and lost for words, couldn't talk. Julia asked again, “Samson?”

Delilah winked at Samson as she stood up. “I lost one of my contacts on the floor, so Samson, I mean Pastor Judges, stood still until I could locate it.” Delilah plastered a fake smile on her face as she faced Julia. “And I did, so I'll be going.” She turned around and with her back toward Julia winked at Samson again. “Pastor, thank you for the advice. I feel better now.”

Delilah held her jacket in front of her, and Samson hoped and prayed she wasn't showing too much cleavage when she whisked past Julia. Julia slammed the door behind Delilah, missing her back by inches. “Good riddance.”

“You could have tripped her,” Samson said.

“Humph. Like I care.” Julia moved closer to him. “When we get married, these home visits by your parishioners—that's going to stop.”

Samson didn't know if he liked this side of Julia. “Dear, you can't dictate how I run my ministry.”

She crossed her arms in front of her. “If you think for a minute that I'm fooled by the likes of Delilah and other women like her who come to Peaceful Rest, you have another thing coming.”

“There's nothing going on between me and those women. I'm their pastor.”

“Uh-huh.” Julia never did uncross her arms.

Samson attempted to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her head so fast his lips landed on her cheek. She pulled away. “Samson, I'm going to give you the opportunity to change your mind if you want to. Are you sure you're ready to marry me?”

“Yes, I'm ready to marry you,” Samson didn't hesitate to respond. “You're the woman I've prayed for. I love you, Julia.”

She sulked. “It's hard to tell.”

Samson rubbed her back. “We're both stressed, so just chill out, okay?”

Julia faced him. “I love you so much, Samson, but I'm not going to be like some of these first ladies in the city. I refuse to share you with anyone.”

“You're not going to have to share me. I'm a one-woman man.” Samson hoped God wouldn't strike him down. In his heart, he was a one-woman man. He just had to figure out a way to get Delilah out of his system. He would keep his distance from her—he had to.

He embraced Julia and blinked a few times when he glanced at one of the living room windows and saw Delilah blowing him kisses. Before he could react, she walked away. He squeezed Julia without once taking his eyes off the window. He had to think of a way to deal with Delilah or risk losing Julia—and that's one thing he wasn't ready to do.