Seasoned with Grace (2 page)

Grace crossed her legs and leaned back on the chocolate-brown leather couch next to the window in Ethan's downtown office. She stared down at the pedestrians hustling to and fro.

“You cannot sign these documents from all the way over there, and you certainly can't read the conditions of your probation, which include community service, through those sunglasses. Please take a seat over here, Ms. King.” Ethan pointed to the mini conference table located in the opposite corner of his office.

Grace gingerly slid off her oversize, wide-rimmed sunglasses, pushed herself up from the couch, and asked, “Where do you want me, Ethan?”

“Just take a seat near Ms. Johnson.” He pointed at the stenographer. “The court sent her over here to record these proceedings.”

“Well, let's just get this over with.” Grace plopped down on one of the aluminum and white leather, three-legged swivel chairs at the black matte conference table. “I don't care where I have to do my time at,” she announced.

“Then you'll have a great time at Mount Carmel Community Church.”

Grace drew her lips up so that they nearly met her pointed nose. “A church?”

“Yes, a church. They run a plethora of community outreach programs that you can assist with,” Ethan explained as he joined Ms. Johnson and Grace at the conference table.

“You couldn't find anywhere else for me to go?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Summerville. I'm sorry to interrupt,” said Ethan's secretary, Alice Wyatt, through a crack in the door. “Ms. King's latte is ready, and I brought a bottle of water for you.”

“Come on in.” He waved his two fingers back and forth, granting her permission to enter.

“Ethan, I'm not doing community service at a f—”

“Grace!” Ethan shouted, halting the onslaught of expletives she was prepared to release on him. “That potty mouth of yours is how you wound up in my office.”

Grace rolled her eyes. She wondered when he was going to stop throwing her situation with Pamela Di Blasio in her face. Three years had passed since she cursed out Pamela and got sent to Ethan's office on the third floor of Stars Unlimited, a one-stop shop featuring entertainment law, publicity, management, and a talent agency.

When Pamela started managing Grace nine years ago, Ethan was fresh out of law school. She was one of his first clients. Back then it was only paper and the lawyers with more seniority would handle her issues. Once she began racking up troubles and charges, everyone in the agency pushed her off on Ethan.

Pamela was the last to jump ship. When she did, the only thing she said between Grace's obscenity-laden monologues was, “Ethan will now be managing you. I'll take care of the contracts immediately, and if you don't leave my office now, I'll also be drawing up a lawsuit against you for harassment, which I will have sent right down to his office.”

“Spending some time in a church is precisely what you need,” Ethan said.

“Why?” Grace asked, smirking at him.

“The church would be the perfect place for you to do your time,” Alice said, shoving Grace's latte at her. Alice had never been a fan of Grace and her wild antics, and she was sure to demonstrate that whenever she had to deal with Grace. “What you need is an exorcism in your mouth. I hope they do that there.”

Slamming her latte on the table, Grace rose from her chair. “And you need to be punched in the face, Alice.”

Ethan clapped his hands. “All right now, let's break this up, ladies.”

“Did you get that, lady?” Alice shook her hand in the direction of the court reporter. “She just threatened to assault me.”

“I think that what we all need right now is a little prayer,” Ethan suggested.

“Don't you think you're taking this whole born-again thing a little too far?” Grace said, rolling her eyes. Although Ethan had given his life to Christ three years ago, he was still in what Grace called the “honeymoon phase.” It was her least favorite phase—that time when every new convert worked viciously to push his or her newfound salvation onto anyone within earshot, just like a new bride thinks all her friends should be married as well, that is, until the groom starts coming in late or, in Grace's case, when God stopped answering her prayers. The moment she felt that God wasn't listening, she stopped talking.

“Ms. Johnson, we're going to take a break from these proceedings to pray,” Ethan said to the court reporter.

“May I join you, Mr. Summerville?” Ms. Johnson asked hesitantly. “I'm an usher at Mount Moriah Baptist Church, and I'm a huge fan of Ms. King. I really hope to see her make it out of this all right.”

Another one? I am surrounded. What is this? A Holy Ghost ambush?
Grace could not recall the last time she'd been around this many Christians, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Ethan rose from his seat at the conference table, removed his tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses, and smiled at Ms. Johnson, revealing the dimple that decorated his square jawline. “Please join us,” he said, with his arm extended in her direction.

She slid from behind her stenotype and jumped to his side.

Ethan and Ms. Johnson joined hands like they had attended a few prayer vigils together in the past. The sight of Ethan holding hands with another woman made Grace cringe. Despite the fact that they'd shared nothing more than the occasional dinner, and the only dates they'd been on were all appointed by the courts, in Grace's eyes, Ethan was all hers. She snatched his right hand with her left and stretched out her right hand toward Alice, who folded her hands when she saw Grace's palm.

“Alice,” Ethan said with a raised eyebrow and in that fatherly tone he used that made every woman at the firm do whatever he said. “Let us look to heaven.”

Grace held back her groaning.
I am going to use this exercise in futility to work on my acting. Just imagine that there is a God and that He cares about you.

Grace turned up the corners of her mouth in an innocent smile, nodded her head at Ethan first, and then lifted it toward the ceiling to face God, who, she believed, had turned His back on her long ago.

“Lord, we come before you as humbly as we know how to seek your help. Lord, we don't know why, but everything in our lives has led us to this moment in time, to being together in this room. Please have your way and work this situation out to your honor and your glory. Guard our hearts from doing evil, and keep our mouths from speaking evil, in Jesus's name. Amen.”

Ethan released both Ms. Johnson's and Grace's hand from his firm grip. Ms. Johnson licked her lips and offered Ethan a wide grin.

“Mr. Summerville, this is not my place to say, but if you'd like me to . . .” Ms. Johnson delicately placed her hand on his shoulder and traced his sharp profile with her eyes before going on. “Would you like me to strike the exchange between your secretary and Ms. King from the record?”

Grace observed Ms. Johnson.

“Ms. Johnson—” Ethan began.

“Candace.” She blushed.

Alice and Grace exchanged looks of shock when they realized what was taking place in front of them.

“Uh . . . can we get on with this?” Grace asked loudly, trying to break up the love connection that was forming.

“Yes, let's move forward. Candace, if you would be so kind as to strike that exchange from the record, I'd—no, we'd—greatly appreciate it,” Ethan said, allowing his brown eyes to linger on Candace.

Grace's eyes widened as she took in this scene. She returned to her seat at the conference table. Reclining in her chair, with her hand resting on her throat, she deflected her gaze to the Romare Bearden print that hung on the wall. Candace didn't appear to be the brash, flashy type of woman Ethan was used to dealing with as an entertainment attorney. Maybe that was why her nude lipstick, her simple diamond studs, and the glow that had surrounded her since she walked in intrigued him.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Summerville?” Alice asked. Ethan shook his head, and Alice cut her eyes in Grace's direction. “What about you, Lindsay Lohan?” she asked with a slight smile and a jingle in her voice.

“Since we just finished praying, I'm not even going to entertain you.” Grace waved her hand at Alice. She crossed her legs and wrapped them around each other like twisted vines, then turned her attention back to Ethan. “Please, continue.”

Alice exited on cue, and Ethan sat back down at the conference table and returned to the particulars of her probation.

“You cannot consume any alcohol or take any drugs. Is that clear?” He removed his eyeglasses and stared hard at Grace. “Well, do you understand the conditions of your probation?”

“Yes. I just don't understand why I have to do my community service at a church.”

Ethan got up from his seat at the table, walked over to Grace, and perched on top of the table. He rested one of his hands on her hand and caressed it.

“What I am about to say is going to hurt you.”

“I can take it.” Grace swallowed hard, shoring herself up. “Whatever it is, I can take it.”

“Right now you're like tainted beef. No one wants to touch you.”

Sinking into the chair, with her eyes closed, Grace let her head fall limp.
How could a single slap turn into this?
she wondered. She replayed the night in her head to see if she had missed a
GO LEFT
sign.

“Grace . . . Grace? I thought you said you could handle this,” Ethan charged, disrupting her meditation on the past.

“I can.”

“I was able to get you a position at my church, Mount Carmel Community Church, so that I can monitor you.”

With the flick of her wrist, she waved her hand at Ethan and rose to a standing position. Grace peeked over her shoulder to make sure that Ms. Johnson was watching as she stood in front of Ethan and adjusted his tie. She scooped his bearded face into her hands. “You just want to be close to me.”

Ethan swatted her hands away from his face. “Please take a seat. This is a legal proceeding. Here are the terms of your probation. Please read over them and sign it. Then we can send Candace on her way, but not without lunch. Candace, would you like to join me for lunch? You've been so patient with us.”

“I'm sure that Candace has to hurry back to the courthouse. Don't you, Candace?” Grace asked forcefully, attempting to compel her to reject Ethan's offer.

“I am awfully hungry.”

“Enough said. Let's wrap this up so that we can eat,” Ethan said.

“Shouldn't we go over my itinerary for that new Tim Story film before breaking for lunch? What did you have in mind, anyway? I'm in the mood for some sushi,” Grace said.

“I really wanted to talk about that later.” He looked up at Grace, then over at Candace again.

Grace felt like a pot of seething water had spilled inside of her as Ethan turned from taking care of her to getting to know Candace. With every word he uttered, his eyes slowly shifted to Candace.

“Let's do it now. She already knows all my business, anyway.”

“You've been cut from the film. They're replacing you with Chanel Iman. You're too much of a liability,” Ethan revealed.

Grace sucked her teeth.

“Now, about lunch. Candace and I are taking a lunch break. There are no breaks for a star. I have an interview set up for you at the office of
MadameNoire
at twelve fifteen, and after that I need you to go home, get a good night's rest, and be ready in the a.m. for community service. Let's just deal with this and discuss the film situation when you've got it together.” He rubbed his palms together and smiled at Candace instead of Grace.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Grace sat down and sulked her way through the rest of the formalities, wondering what Ethan hoped to gain from dining with a mere stenographer, when Grace had been in front of him all this time.

Candace's eyes searched the menu at Bryant Park Grill for a dish she recognized, hoping to avoid making significant eye contact with Ethan. The more she looked into his eyes, which seemed to be filled with amber, like a lion's eyes, and studied his chiseled features, the more he began to resemble a bronze version of the statue of
David.

“The lamb kabobs are great for an appetizer,” Ethan said.

“I don't know,” Candace said, sliding the small cross pendant dangling from her neck back and forth.

“What's to know?” Ethan asked, waving his muscular arm in the air, signaling for a waiter. “Just try them.”

She marveled at his confidence.
He knows he's the head.

“May we have an order of lamb kabobs, the Caesar salad, and . . .” He peered at her. “Do you like seafood?”

She nodded her head.

Finishing off the order, he added, “Give us the Bryant Park Sea Grill as well. That should be good. Lobster, shrimps, and scallops.”

“This is a really nice restaurant, Mr. Summerville. I feel a tad bit underdressed,” Candace noted while pushing up the sleeves on her black and gray spotted cardigan.

“You look fine.” Ethan's fingertips grazed hers. He took a sip of his water and loosened the knot on his tie a bit. “Please, call me Ethan. How long have you been a stenographer?”

“For only about six months.”

“No wonder I've never seen you around,” he said, smiling like he'd just found buried treasure.

“I usually work with Judge Franklin on depositions and civil trials. When I saw my name on the board for this case, I was so excited. The other stenographers told me Ms. King was a real riot, but I just see a hurt little girl,” Candace said, summing up her first encounter with the infamous Grace King. “She seems to really love you, though,” she added to gauge what was really going on between them.

Ethan shook his head adamantly. “It's not love. It's more like codependency. Everyone at the firm says I enable her, and at the same token, now that she's not the same bright-eyed girl they rolled in fresh off the street, no one wants anything to do with her. I'm getting pretty tired of
The Grace King Show
myself.”

“While there's life in the body, there's still hope,” Candace said, smiling.

“Yeah.” Ethan shook his head in agreement. “That's why I sent her to do community service at my church . . . so that she could get saved and I can keep an eye on her. I don't have too much left in me. If she messes this up, that's it for me. There's a lot more I hope to accomplish in life besides chasing after Grace.”

Their appetizers arrived just as Candace was about to launch into a speech about the power and necessity of forgiveness. She noshed on her lamb kabob, savoring the peppery flavor of the tender shreds of lamb. And though she tried to hold back, the spirit demanded to be let out.

“Ethan, I know this is not my place, but may I add my two cents?”

Ethan placed his hand on hers and squeezed it. “Please feel free to share anything with me.” From the glimmer in his eyes, Candace understood that he was asking for more than her opinion. He was asking for her.

“Jesus never gave up on Judas. Knowing who Judas was and knowing the intent of his heart well in advance, Jesus still ministered to him. Jesus still accepted his kiss, even on the night of his betrayal.”

“Grace and Judas are totally different, and me and Jesus . . .” Ethan laughed a little. “Well, there just ain't no comparison there.”

Without restraint Candace jumped on Ethan's slight spiritual deficiency. “God's hope for us is that through this gift of faith and our ministry, we will live up to the fullness of Christ. Ephesians four, thirteen, more or less,” she said, shaking her hand. “Grace and Judas aren't different. Both of them have been oppressed by the enemy in need of salvation and had the opportunity to sit at the feet of the Son of God. They who are led by the spirit are the sons of God, brother. Let the spirit lead you so that you can lead her to salvation.”

Ethan scratched at his neck. He was definitely perplexed by what she'd just said, and from the looks of it, he was trying to grasp the magnitude of her words. Throughout the rest of their lunch, as they stuffed themselves with Caesar salad and the abundance of soft chunks of lobster, scallops, and jumbo shrimp, Ethan tried to digest Candace's wise words.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” the waiter asked, collecting their dishes.

Ethan glanced at his watch. “My lunch hour is almost up. Give the lady anything she'd like and charge it to this card.” Ethan withdrew his Amex from his back pocket and handed it to the waiter.

“I'm not impressed by things, Mr. Summerville.”

“Me either. I am really impressed by you, and I hope that you are at least mildly impressed by me. You have a fresh perspective on the scriptures, and you really helped me to see that right now I'm not meeting God's standards in this area of my life. Candace, is it all right with you if we exchange numbers? I'd like to spend more time with you.”

A current of heat coursed through Candace's body, a sure signal that her creamy cocoa-butter complexion was turning rosy. She patted her cheeks, then covered her mouth to mask her smile.

“I would like that too.” She clutched her forehead. None of this was like her. She didn't go out to lunch with strange men or exchange numbers with them after one conversation. She usually wasn't this bold, but that prayer changed things. The prayer that Ethan had led in his office had moved her and had opened her eyes to a treasure. She thought of a picture she'd seen this morning on one of her girlfriend's status update. A portrait of a man's hands folded, with the words “A real man knows how to talk to God” superimposed on top of it.

Candace had taken every word of his prayer to her heart and had asked the Lord why was she here, and when she'd opened her eyes, she'd seen something different about Ethan. He was a prime cut. Not just in the looks department. She'd checked her flesh at the door when she first spotted his six-foot-two frame strutting through the lobby before he escorted her upstairs.

After that prayer, she had thrown away the “Keep me, Lord” prayer she whispered in the lobby of Stars Unlimited and had determined in her heart to show him she was the helpmeet God had created for him.