Fortune & Fame: A Novel (4 page)

The irony of all of this wasn’t lost on her: Her dreams were about to become a reality because of reality TV.

Natasia chuckled at that thought as she took slow steps toward her bedroom. All she had to do was figure out the right way to make her presence known. And once she did, she’d see Hosea Bush again.

This was truly an answer to her three months’ worth of prayers.

A
ir had never smelled so fresh.

Mary Richardson recalled an article that said Huntsville, Texas, had horrible pollution, ranking at the bottom of the list in air quality. But to Mary, the brisk wind sweeping across her face was Febreze fresh.

Fresh air. Something she’d known nothing about for the past four years.

Mary looked to her left, then her right. She wanted to cry when the realization set in that she could go in whichever direction she wanted. There was no CO telling her which way to turn. There was no warden dictating what she should do next. Every step she made from now on would be on her own terms.

Mary closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She only opened them when she heard someone say, “There she is! My baby!”

“Babyyyyy,” she said, running into his arms.

Nathan Frazier picked her up and swung her around, smothering her in kisses. He wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever dated, but he looked magnificent to her right now. Even though her friends used to tease her in high school, Mary
had never been able to shake her preference for black men. Men like Nathan were the reason why—tall, dark, and good looking without even trying.

Mary didn’t know how long they’d been lost in their embrace when Nathan finally pulled away and said, “Okay, babe, we have many more nights of holding each other. We need to get to the airport. Our plane leaves in three hours.”

She smiled and hugged him tightly one last time. He took her hand and said, “And the first thing we’re going to do when we get back to Atlanta is go and get this band replaced.” He fingered the small metal band on her ring finger.

The old Mary, the con artist always looking for a come up, the one that was out to get money by any means necessary, would’ve been all set and ready to go. But the new and improved Mary, the one who had found herself in prison, who had renewed her relationship with God, and who had vowed to become a law-abiding citizen, was happy with the ring that was on her finger. Nathan had given her that ring in a small, quaint ceremony in the prison chapel. It was more than enough.

“Honey, I told you. We don’t have to get another ring. This one means the world to me,” she told him.

Nathan took her hand and led her to the rental car. “And you can keep it in a box somewhere as a memento.” He turned to her. “But baby, I told you, things have been really good this past year. This church business is
the
business. Everyone is excited and ready to meet you.”

She’d been real nervous about that. “How are they going to feel about having a First Lady who’s been in prison?”

“Half the congregation has been in prison. That’s how we’ve been able to build Pleasant City up so. This is a no-judgment zone and the folks are eating it up!”

She hated when Nathan talked like he was in the ministry for the money. When she’d first met him as part of the prison ministry for a Houston church, he’d seemed genuine in his
desire to spread the gospel. Their relationship had quickly flourished and she’d fallen madly in love with him. He’d proposed in the prison chapel, promising her that he would do everything in his power to get her out. Then, just a month after they’d gotten married, he’d received an offer to lead a church in Atlanta. He’d taken it and each time he’d returned to visit, he was hungrier and hungrier for money and power.

“I told you, we’ve been doing big things,” Nathan said. “I hired a top-notch marketing team. We got a grant. And you know the actor, Laurence Hill?”

She smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm. “Yeah, he went to prison for tax evasion. Right?”

“Yeah, but he’s out and he’s bankrolling a whole new facility at Pleasant City. Once word started spreading about his support, everyone else started getting on board. I told you, moving to Atlanta was the smartest thing I’d ever done!”

She loved seeing her husband so excited. She snuggled closer to him as he pulled out of the parking lot and away from Huntsville Correctional facility for the last time.

Her husband.

Mary still couldn’t believe that she’d met and married her soul mate while in prison. She had a flash as she recalled the man she’d
thought
was her soul mate—Lester Adams. She’d gone to great lengths to get Lester, especially because his wife, Rachel, treated him like dirt. Seducing Lester had started out as just a job, something set up by Rachel’s enemy. Mary had pretended to be in need of counseling, and the more time she spent with the good pastor, the more she wanted him. For real. He’d been attentive, loving, caring. All things she’d never had from a man. Not even her absentee father.

She had seduced Lester, they had a brief affair, and Rachel and Mary both ended up pregnant at the same time. Confident that she was meant to be Mrs. Lester Adams, Mary had shown up at Rachel’s church, proclaimed her love for Lester on the altar,
and caused nothing but chaos after that. Mary told anyone who would listen that hers was Lester’s baby. Turns out he wasn’t, but by then, the whole church knew Lester had cheated on Rachel.

Mary had managed to get his body, but she could never get his heart, and at the end of the day, Lester and Rachel had overcome their problems and worked things out. Even Mary’s baby hadn’t been able to break them up.

Her heart dropped as she thought of her baby. Rachel had sent her pictures of Lester Jr. (they called him Lewis, but he would always be Lester Jr. to Mary). Her baby looked just like his no-good father, Craig, who was doing twenty to life for counterfeiting. She’d been sentenced to twenty-five years herself for all the cons and hustles she and Craig were involved in. It wasn’t until Nathan and his prison ministry started coming to Huntsville that she realized she could turn her life around.

Nathan had done that. Then, he indeed had pulled some strings and gotten her case overturned on appeal. Now, she was ready to start her life anew.

There was a part of Mary that wished Lester Jr. could be with her. But in order to keep her son out of the foster system that she herself had grown up in, Mary had signed away her parental rights to Rachel when she thought she’d be spending twenty-five years in prison.

“Hey, what are you over there deep in thought about?” Nathan asked, gently rubbing her thigh.

“I’m just thinking about everything,” she said, looking out the window. She ran her fingers over the plush seat of the rented Mercedes. “I’m just not used to all of this.”

“Sweetheart, you are now a First Lady, so get used to the finer things. I’ve got big plans for us. For you.” He looked over and grinned widely at her.

“For me? What kind of plans?”

“Can’t tell you yet.” He grinned like he had a major secret. “But if it pans out, it’s gonna be huge.”

Mary didn’t need anything else. She had Nathan, and his eleven-year-old son, Alvin, whom she’d met while she was in prison. Alvin’s mom had died of cancer and he’d taken a liking to Mary so she was looking forward to mothering him. Mary’s own mother, Margaret, was reportedly clean and sober and living in Atlanta, but Mary hadn’t talked to her in over a year. Margaret had been trying to make amends for being a horrible mother, but Mary had no interest in letting that woman back into her life. So Alvin and Nathan would really be the only family she had.

“Our church is about to blow up, baby!” Nathan said. “Just you wait and see. You’re not only about to be rich, you’re about to be famous, too!”

She just smiled, relishing in his excitement. Whatever Nathan’s big plans were, Mary knew they’d be good.

For now, she just wanted to get to the airport, get on that plane, head to Atlanta, and begin her new life.

J
asmine nodded toward the young woman who’d led her and Mae Frances into the conference room. “Thank you,” she said.

“No problem. Melinda will be right with you.”

The moment the young woman closed the door behind her, Mae Frances
humph
ed. “Fancy,” she grunted as she strolled past the artwork on the wood-paneled walls. Then, she turned to the conference table and pulled out one of the oversized chairs. She snuggled her hips into the leather as her fingertips caressed the polished grain of the mahogany table. “Isn’t this a black TV station?”

“Uh . . . this is Oprah, Mae Frances. Oprah’s not black, she’s green. That’s the only color people see when they look at her.” Jasmine took the seat across from her friend.

“Humph!” Mae Frances rolled her eyes. “Well, anyway, Jasmine Larson, you sure you really want to do this?”

Jasmine laid her palms flat on the table. “You can ask me that question a thousand times, and I promise you, a thousand times, I will give you the same answer.”

“I’m just trying to make sure ’cause I can’t see it.”

“Would I be in these offices if I wasn’t sure? Would I have asked you to call Stedman if I wasn’t sure?”

“Stedman,” Mae Frances whispered, then, her lips stretched into a wide smile. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes glazed as if she was suddenly in some kind of trance.

Jasmine frowned. “Mae Frances!”

Mae Frances blinked. Now, her shoulders squared. She sat straight, with her head up as if she was at attention. Clearing her throat, she said, “Well . . . uh . . . yeah. It was good talking to Stedman again. But . . . but this isn’t about me. This is about you. And this here reality show. I just can’t see it. You don’t even watch reality TV.”

“No, because I have respect for my brain cells. But I’m aware of the potential of these kinds of shows.” Jasmine zipped open her tote and grabbed the folder of Internet articles she’d been collecting since Mae Frances told her that Stedman was going to take care of it all. “Do you know how much money these reality people make?”

Mae Frances turned up her nose and waved her hand in the air. “I don’t know. I have brain cells that I respect, too. I don’t watch any of that foolishness.” She paused. “Well,
any
might be a strong word. Maybe I should say I don’t watch that foolishness all that much. Well, not too much, you know, every now and then . . . and then some.”

Jasmine frowned, dizzy from trying to figure out the circle of words that Mae Frances had just spoken. But she just shook her head and went back to making her point. Jasmine slid a paper across the conference table, “Well, both of our brains need to take a look at this.” She paused just long enough to give Mae Frances time to take a quick glance at the page. “One of those housewives is taking her foolishness straight to the bank. She’s making a million dollars.”

“I may be watching a few of those shows, but I didn’t know they had it like this. A million dollars?”

“A million dollars an episode.”

Slowly, Mae Frances’s eyes widened. “You mean to tell me that those women are earning one million dollars a week? Really?” Mae Frances turned toward the door as if she expected someone to walk in at any moment. “I wonder if somebody needs a new housewife. ’Cause I can be somebody’s housewife. I know somebody’s husband, so I can be somebody’s wife.”

Jasmine laughed as she leaned across the table and tucked the paper back into her folder. “According to what I’ve read, you don’t even have to be married to be a housewife.”

“Well, sign me up, ’cause I can use that kind of money.”

“I know that’s right.”

“So, that’s what they’re gonna pay you?” Mae Frances asked. “A million dollars a week?”

“I wish. They haven’t told me anything about pay yet, but I don’t expect that much. That housewife didn’t start off that way, but she’s building a fortune now, and that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m going to catapult this little venture into a financial windfall.”

“So, that’s why you’re doing this? For the money?” Mae Frances asked, surprised.

Jasmine raised her eyebrows. “Why else would I do this? For fame?” She waved her hand. “I don’t care who knows me or who knows my name. Just show me the money.”

“You don’t need any money,” Mae Frances huffed. “Preacher Man is doing just fine,” she said, referring to Jasmine’s husband, Hosea, by the name that she’d given him years before.

“Of course he is, but what does that have to do with me and this show?” Before Mae Frances could respond, Jasmine added, “You know the saying . . . you cannot be too rich or too thin. I’m working on the rich part. This is how I’m going to help Hosea build our fortune.”

“I don’t think Preacher Man needs your help. Between the church and his TV show, you guys are more than fine. Plus, he’s not the type to be thinking about building a fortune,” she said.

“That’s why he needs me. Because I will do the things that Hosea won’t do. I care about the things Hosea doesn’t care about. And with my forward thinking, our children’s futures will be solid and set.” When Mae Frances twisted her lips, Jasmine added, “How could it possibly hurt to add an extra million dollars a week to our bank account?”

Mae Frances’s eyes brightened once again at the mention of that kind of money. “Well, when you put it that way . . . you sure they won’t need me on this show?”

Jasmine grinned. “That’s why you’re here, Mae Frances! You got me in, now I’m gonna hook you up.”

“You talking like you got this all worked out. What about Atlanta?”

Now, Jasmine sighed. Atlanta was going to be a problem. Hosea and his father had decided to open a satellite church in Atlanta, and although one of the associate pastors would be the lead pastor of City of Lights—Atlanta, Hosea wanted to be there with him for the first few months. The church had already rented a house and they were supposed to be leaving New York in two weeks, as soon as the kids were out of school for summer break.

“I know. Hosea is not going to be happy about me staying behind. But I’ll convince him somehow.” She paused and cocked her head a little, hoping it made her look just a little innocent. “You’re gonna help me, right?”