AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Just that. I’m up for review and this, landing you, would be a help.”
“I don’t know what an interview with me would do with ad sales for the station.”
“Oh, come on. More interest, more viewers, more sales. Look, I loathe having to call you, but . . . if you could help me out, I’d like love you forever and I know Renee-Claire would love it.”
Renee-Claire Morgan being the host ofBonjour, New Orleans!
Kristi saw a sign for her exit and again switched lanes. “Okay, fine. I know I’m going to regret this. But I’ll do it.” She was already mentally kicking herself as she drove off the freeway.
“Thanks!” Bella breathed. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I don’t know about that. So when is the interview?”
“Tomorrow.”
“What? Wait. No. I need some time.”
“Oh, Kristi, please. All you have to do is show up. The producer’s assistant has already been in touch with your publisher. She’s dealt with the publicity department before and they’ve already sent materials.”
That didn’t sound right. Usually the department contacted herbeforeany appearances were scheduled. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, something about your agent, I think.”
Zera.
Of course.
“She was supposed to contact you. Anyway, Kristi, we’re all set to go! So if you could be at the station at eight tomorrow morning . . . ?”
Kristi’s anger burned through her. Her fingers clenched over the steering wheel and she wanted to tell her friend what she could do with the proposed interview. But then she thought about all the times Bella had been supportive, how, especially since Jay’s death, her friend had tried to help, to be a sounding board, to try and get Kristi out of the house, and Kristi had rebuffed her, been a lousy friend in return.
“If I agree, then never again, okay? You won’t pressure me.”
“Right. Right. I know. I know. I swear.”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” she said, and didn’t add “under duress” or “but you’ll owe me” as Bella had already paid it forward. “I’ll see you then.” And she disconnected, already regretting her decision. She hit speed dial for Zera’s number, but it was after hours in New York and her agent didn’t pick up. Kristi left a blistering message and then disconnected.
The sun was sinking low, dusk approaching, as she located the church and pulled into a spot near a streetlamp two blocks down.
“You can do this,” she said, giving herself a pep talk as she turned on the recording app on her phone, making sure it could take down everything from her light purse. Then she crossed the lot, clicked the remote to lock her car, and walked into a white brick building fronted with a long, covered porch. On one side a square tower rose to a blocky steeple topped with a spire and cross.
Kristi stepped inside to a wood-paneled vestibule and a sign that read: WELCOME TONEWFAITH ANDGLORYCHURCH OFPRAISE. An elderly woman with dark wrinkled skin, thick glasses, and gray curls handed her a pamphlet. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you a newcomer? I don’t think I know you.”
“Just checking things out.”
“Well here,” she said, and handed Kristi a thick packet of papers. “This is information on the church and a short form that we ask you to fill out.” She smiled, her top teeth edged in gold. “The reverend, he likes to know who comes in.”
Does he? I’ll just bet,Kristi thought, but said instead, “Thank you.”
“Now you go on in,” the old lady whispered. “Take a seat anywhere. The service has just begun.” Then she turned her attention to another latecomer and Kristi slipped through a second set of double doors. Silently, she slid into a pew near the rear of the nave. The church was nearly full with parishioners packed onto the smooth wooden pews. Up front the preacher was welcoming everyone, “newcomers and members who have been with us since the beginning.”
She watched and felt that the service was as much a show as a religious observance.
Mandel Jarvis was in his element. Still tall and striking, his physique not much changed from his days as a college athlete, his smile just as wide, he wore a light gray suit, black shirt, and lavender tie, and as the doors to the nave closed he led the congregation in a prayer asking the Lord to accept “new and old alike, bless us all.” Then upon sending up the prayer in Jesus’s name, he looked up and asked the choir to sing. The musicians took their cue, started playing, and after a short intro the choir, in golden robes with white glittering stoles, joined in, filling the church with music as they swayed, nearly dancing on their risers.
People around her started singing and Kristi took up a hymnal and found the right page, though she only pretended to sing as she observed the congregation. Old, young, from all walks of life, it seemed, a diverse group who appeared to adore their leader. He spoke and they listened, raptly, even children, and his voice boomed over the choir when he sang, his hands uplifted to the rafters, his smile seemingly genuine and truly touched by God.
He had everyone in the palm of his hand and he knew it.
