Truth Be Told (4 page)

Before, she'd seen just the gray that sprinkled his thinning hair, the weathered skin on his hands, and the fact that he would see five-feet five-inches only if he stood on his toes. He was seventy—sixty, at least, and looking as if he'd see ninety in just a few years. But now, he was Denzel with Wesley's body. Nathan Carr was a man with money.

“Well, thank you for your kind words.” He shook the woman's hand and turned back to Mabel. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, wondering if it was his soft voice, gentle manner, or the dollar signs that now appeared in his eyes that made her want to follow him.

As they stood at her car, he said, “Mabel, give me a call tomorrow. Our timing just happens to be right. I'm looking for an assistant, and you might fit the position.”

It had taken all that was within her to stop herself from throwing her arms around that man in the middle of the Ralph's Foods parking lot. But as she drove home, she began to wonder what Dr. Carr really wanted. After all, how could he offer her a job without knowing anything about her?

Well, whatever he wanted, it didn't matter. She had checks that would hit her bank today and bounce all the way to New Jersey. If he wanted sex, fine. She'd done that before and for much less than a regular paycheck.

But when she met Dr. Carr two days later, she realized only business was on his mind. Although she'd worn her tightest red wrap dress (one size too small, to flaunt her assets), all he looked at were her eyes.

“I see something in you, Mabel, that makes me want to help you become the best you can be. And I always listen to the spirit. I'm going to take you to the top.”

The next weeks moved at space shuttle speed. Dr. Carr's office was in his home, in the Wilshire district. That had surprised Mabel—she'd expected a sprawling expanse in Beverly Hills. Within days, she learned one factor of his success: “It's not how much you make, it's how much you keep,” he said.

For the next year, she watched. She became his right hand, doing everything from running errands, to attending his seminars and selling his books in the back of the room, to typing and editing his manuscripts. But it was the trips to the bank that she loved. Dr. Carr's personal banker cleared his calendar whenever she walked in. And it was not just the banker who rolled out the royal carpet. From the publisher to the attendees at Dr. Carr's events, everyone wanted to do her bidding. Mabel knew it was so they could get close to Dr. Carr, but that didn't matter. The way the Carr entourage was treated amazed and pleased her.

The Carr retinue was small—just Mabel and a man, Lexington Jackson, whom Dr. Carr called his valet. Besides the two of them, he used outside contractors for everything from typing to sales at the seminars. It lowered expenses and kept his dealings private.

Working for Dr. Carr was the first time Mabel stayed with one employer for more than nine months. But almost eighteen months into her career, it ended. The nation was shocked when Nathan Carr collapsed on stage at his Living Your Best Life seminar.

Mabel mourned with the rest of Dr. Carr's disciples, though her distress came from having to face the question: What am I going to do now? Her despair changed to hope as she sat in the wooden pew in the third row of Unity Baptist Church at Dr. Carr's funeral. As speaker after speaker exalted praises to the man who changed their life, Mabel realized she could do the same thing. She had the knowledge, she had some experience, and she had what she believed to be the sole copy of an unfinished Dr. Carr manuscript. She would use his outline, fill in the blanks, and complete the book.

For weeks after the funeral, Mabel laid low, watching and waiting to see if any of Dr. Carr's family came forth. When three months had passed, she exhaled. But she knew she couldn't do it alone. That was when she approached Lexington. He wasn't her first choice, but Dr. Carr had taught her that it was important to have someone watching your back—and your front. If Lexington was good enough for the doctor, Maybe he would work for her.

She planned her presentation and called Lexington.

“Great idea!” he exclaimed as if she had answered his prayer too.

When she thought about it, she had. Lexington was just twenty-one years old and had worked for Dr. Carr from the moment he had graduated from high school. Where was he going to go?

Six months later, she emerged as Starlight. Dr. Carr's publisher, New Vision Publications, rushed her first book to the market. Starlight suspected her editor, Susan, was aware that Dr. Carr had written much of the book, but she asked no questions. New Vision was eager to continue to capitalize on Dr. Carr's market. It didn't take long to build a following: she was promoted as Dr. Nathan Carr's protégée, the one designated to sustain the self-esteem flame for African Americans.

Now, seven years later, she had taken her business to levels beyond even what Dr. Carr could have imagined.

Starlight stood and stepped onto the terrace. The April morning breeze swept across the balcony, and she tightened her robe. There's only one way to describe this, she thought as she looked onto the beach. I have come a long way.

She saw it best in her mother's eyes. Gone was the look of hopelessness that Lily had carried for having given birth to a child she thought would never amount to anything. Now Lily wore a gleam when she looked at her elder daughter or when she stepped inside her two-bedroom Ladera Heights condo and remembered that it was Starlight who lapped her in luxury. Starlight wanted to give her mother everything—to repay Lily for standing with her through her years of searching and to keep Lily as proud of her as she was of Grace.

Starlight shook her head. With Grace's latest accomplishment, she didn't know where she'd end up on the familial food chain. “This is silly.” She stepped back into her bedroom. “We're not kids vying for Mama's affections.”

But even as she spoke, she didn't feel foolish. She was in a competition—one that had been rigged from the beginning from when she'd grown up with her mother, her sister, Grace, and Neil, Grace's father. It was more than she could take when she was six and realized that her last name was different from everyone else in the house. She'd cried nightly tears after Neil told her, “You're not my daughter, Mabel, but I love you as if you were.”

His words weren't good enough. The baby, Grace, had a father. All she had was an unanswered question when she asked, “Where is my daddy?”

For Starlight, that was where the race began. But even then, Grace was just inches from the finish, while she felt as if she was well behind the starting gate. From Grace's top grades to her discussions (when she was only eight) of which college she would attend, Grace was the shining light in the Hobbs family. Mabel's sole hope was to wear the banner of the bad seed. At least that garnered attention.

But everything had changed. Mabel had emerged as the star, and she had at last caught up with her sister on the track of life. There was no way that she was going to lose ground.

Starlight moved to the eighteenth-century desk that she'd purchased with her first royalty check. She turned on the light and looked at her notes. It wasn't quite noon, but she was going to spend the afternoon preparing. After tonight, she'd be far ahead in the race.

T
he moment Conner opened the door, the applause began. He sauntered into the office, his smile wide.

Kym, the receptionist, was the first to hug him. “Congratulations.” The others followed—assistants, law clerks, and attorneys alike.

Conner strolled past the cubicles and outer offices, nodding his head, smiling as if he had won the election. When he got to his office, Marilyn stood, smiling.

“Why the fuss?” Conner chuckled.

“We're happy because we know the man who's married to the new councilwoman,” Marilyn gushed.

Conner sat behind his desk. He tapped the tips of his fingers together and looked at the photo of Grace, Jayde, and Amber that sat in the center of his desk.

“We didn't expect you today.” Chandler leaned against the door post. “Was sure you'd be home celebrating.”

“I'm here for just a minute. I want to get home real quick.”

Chandler chuckled and settled in a chair across from his twin. “So did you guys have a big night?”

Conner thought back to the plans that had been deterred, but the night had still been special to him. “Yeah, but I still want to get out of here. Grace won't be having too many early nights.”

Chandler nodded. “Why did you come in?”

“Marilyn told me that I got a call.”

“Man, you should have passed that to me.”

Conner leaned forward onto his desk. His smile faded. “A woman's been calling saying she has an emergency, but that I was the only one who could help.”

Chandler matched his brother's posture. “Who is it?”

Conner shrugged. “I don't know. That's why I'm here. I want to take her call and then …” He leaned back in his chair and his smile returned. “I'm going home.”

Chandler stood. “Well, you're the one who has the day off. Let me get back to work.”

“How're things with the Empire suit?”

“We're going to file the papers on Monday. This is going to be a long battle.”

Conner nodded. “Don't worry. I'll be back in the morning.”

“Bro, I'm not worried. Fourteen years is no accident. I know you're not about to let me down.” Chandler playfully saluted his brother before he walked through the door.

Once alone, Conner swiveled in his chair and faced the wall behind his desk—his wall of fame, he called it. His eyes scanned his degrees from Stanford and Yale and photos of Chandler and him with the mayor and other city dignitaries. But there was nothing on the wall that made him prouder than what his wife had accomplished.

When Grace told him that she wanted to run for the council seat, he'd been surprised, then ecstatic. It was different than when she told him she wanted to get involved with community affairs. At that time, all those years ago, he knew she was searching for anything that would keep her busy and away from Drew, her high school boyfriend.

There was still a little ache in his heart when he allowed that name to enter his thoughts. Drew had been a force in their marriage since the beginning. Most men would have walked away, and even he was surprised that he had remained through the heartache and humiliation. But he loved Grace and was determined to stand.

There was a quick knock on the door before Marilyn walked in. “That woman is on the phone.”

Good,
he thought.
I'll take this, make an appointment, and get home to my wife
. He lifted the phone and waited for Marilyn to close the door. “This is Conner Monroe.” His professional voice was deep, a tone above James Earl Jones's.

“Conner …”

He frowned. Although he couldn't readily identify the familiar voice, his heart pounded. “This is Conner Monroe,” he repeated.

“This is Pilar Cruise.”

Her introduction made him bounce back in his chair. “Pilar,” he said, recovering. “How are you?” His professionalism was all that allowed him to ask that question rather than the ones that galloped through his mind.
What do you want? Why all the mystery?

“I'm fine.”

In the silence that followed, he calculated how many years had passed since he'd seen her. Twelve … no, thirteen, although it wasn't clear. He couldn't even draw a mental picture. All he remembered was her long blue-black hair.

Conner coughed. “I understand you've been calling.”

“Yes.”

Why?
he screamed inside. “You have a legal problem?”

More seconds of silence before she said, “Yes … and something more.”

Dread began to invade his body. He cleared his throat. “I have time tomorrow.”

“No.”

He didn't know why that single word swelled the lump in his throat.

Pilar continued, “I'm not going to be in town….”

“You don't live in Los Angeles?”

“Not anymore.”

He shifted in his seat.

“I came from New York to see you.”

He knew for sure—this was trouble. No one flew three thousand miles to see an attorney. He took a deep breath. “Okay.” He opened his calendar, though he knew it was clear. “How soon can you get here?”

“Not there.” Her demand was quick.

He nodded, as if he understood.

She asked, “Can we do lunch?” She paused. “Encounters, if it's still there.”

“Fine,” he said, although he wasn't fine at all. “I can meet you in an hour.”

He could hear her exhale. “Good.”

He was filled with the urge to get away. “I'll see you then.” He hung up without waiting for her response. Conner stared at the phone as if it was a poisonous snake. The knock on the door broke his gaze.

Marilyn stepped inside, then stopped with she saw his expression. “Is everything all right?”

He swallowed the lump that had been lodged since Pilar had said her name. “Sure.”

Marilyn frowned. “Was that call a problem?”

“No,” he said quickly. “It turned out to be an old friend … acquaintance. Do you remember Pilar Cruise?”

She frowned. Then her eyes brightened with recognition. “Your assistant, the one I replaced.” She exhaled, as if she'd been holding her breath. “Well, it makes sense that she would call you if she had a legal problem.”

Her statement made him want to respond as if she'd asked a question. “I'm probably the only attorney she knows.” He stood. “I'm going to meet her now.”

“Are you going straight home after that?”

Grace's face flashed through his mind. Ten minutes ago, his answer would have been a resounding affirmative. “I think so,” he said, lowering his gaze.

Marilyn stared at him for a long moment before she walked out of the office.

He looked at his watch, surprised that only five minutes had passed since he'd hung up. This was going to be the longest sixty minutes he ever lived.

“This April election delivered a surprise when Grace Monroe defeated the incumbent, Samuel Douglas, for the council position in the Eighteenth District. Ms. Monroe is a former member of the Beachside School Board. Monroe, part of the religious right, surprised pundits winning on a Christian platform …”

Grace clicked off the car radio. Where did reporters get their information? She wasn't part of any religious right. First, she wasn't religious, although she'd tell anyone who'd listen that she was a Christian, serious in her love for Jesus.

Her ringing cell phone turned her frown into a smile. “Hey, Devry.”

“Hey, girl. I called the office, and your people said you were missing.”

“I took the day off. I needed to recover—away from the cameras and other probing eyes. Plus, Conner and I plan to celebrate, since things got mixed up when my mother brought the girls home last night….”

“They weren't supposed to come back until today.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh.” Devry laughed.

“Anyway, we thought we'd have all day, but Conner got called into the office.”

“So now that your husband is buried under his law books, what're you going to do?”

“I don't have anything set,” she said, turning onto Pacific Coast Highway. “Conner's plan is to escape at two.”

“Yeah, right,” Devry said. “I can't imagine Conner making it home in the middle of the day.”

“Don't be a pessimist.”

“Can't help it. My husband works with yours. Chandler always promises to come home early, but he's yet to make it.”

“Well, you weren't there this morning when I almost had my husband quoting scripture from the Song of Solomon.” They laughed together. “Nothing will keep Conner away from me today,” Grace said.

“Okay, I'm convinced. But can we get together for a quick lunch before then?”

“Business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both, dear. It's always a pleasure to be in your company.” Devry chuckled. “But I have a proposal, and since I'm related to the new councilwoman, I should be first in the handout line. I won't keep you long. You'll be home in time for your afternoon sexcapade.”

Grace laughed. “Okay, where should we meet?” She swung into the curve of her driveway and turned the ignition off.

“Encounters,” Devry suggested. “They love you. We might get a free lunch.”

“Encounters is fine, but I'm paying. I don't want anyone from Sara Spears's group accusing me of getting any free lunches.”

“Have you heard anything from those crazies?”

Grace shook her head, thinking how much of a blessing that was. Sara Spears was the self-appointed leader of the ACC—the Anti-Christian Coalition. She was a proud atheist who claimed that she wasn't against Christians, just against Christians holding offices where they could force their beliefs on the public. In the past, Sara and the ACC would have dragged Grace's candidacy through mounds of mud. But Grace had been spared since the ACC's focus was on getting two of its candidates elected to the city council. Grace knew her reprieve wouldn't last long.

“I wouldn't call Sara Spears crazy,” Grace said, finally responding. “Not that Harvard-educated fox.”

“Well, don't think about her. Just think about how your marvelous sister-in-law is going to present you with something that will make even the ACC shut their mouths. I'll see you a little after noon, Councilwoman.”

Grace clicked off the phone and jumped from the car. As she trotted to her door, she heard Devry's words—“see you … Councilwoman.” It was still hard to believe. She dropped her keys on the foyer's table, then ran up the stairs. She disrobed as soon as she entered the bedroom, throwing her clothes onto the bed before she went into the bathroom. For a moment, she eyed the tub. The Jacuzzi's jets beckoned her, tempting her to call Devry and cancel. Instead, she turned on the shower.

She posed in front of the mirror as she waited for the water to warm. She'd heard an Oprah guest once say that if you could look at yourself naked, you could do anything. She did that every morning. Some days were easier than others. Today was a good day.

Not bad, she thought, for a woman approaching forty, who had carried and then pushed two children from her body. And Amber had been a difficult birth. At that time, she'd thought about having every tube inside her tied. She'd decided against it, because although Conner never admitted it, she knew he still hoped for a son. But as the years passed and their days grew happier with their girls, they'd agreed there was no need—and no room—for another child.

And now that Devry was pregnant, the family hope was that she'd give birth to a son to carry the Monroe name.

She twisted, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “What would Sara Spears think of me now?” She laughed, feeling as if she was drowning in a sea of blessedness.

She stepped into the shower and allowed herself to think about all that God had done. Even when she'd turned her back on Him, He'd taken care of her. Carried her through everything from law school, to motherhood, through an adulterous marriage that He salvaged when He revealed Himself to her and Conner. Grace sighed as the dual shower heads sent pulsating water beads against her skin. She turned the knob, increasing the pressure, and once again scolded herself for making the date with Devry.

She wanted this time alone to bask—not just in the awesomeness of winning an election that she didn't dare dream about. But to also revel in the wonderment of just how far her life had come.

“Thank you, Lord.”

It had been a wandering road, with potholes that should have swallowed her. But her life was divided into two parts—what she called pre-Lord and post-Lord. Some would say that she'd been lucky during her pre-Lord days. When she'd traveled across the country to attend Hampton University, then on to Yale Law School, where she fell in love with an ambitious classmate. People would say that she was lucky after becoming pregnant at the end of her second year and being with a man who was committed to her—enough to marry her just four months before their baby, Jayde, was born.