“Hmm, funny you should ask,” I said, feeling better just at the mention of his name. “A few days back on the elevator actually.”
“Is he fine for real? Does he get you hot and bothered?”
“Girl, he’ll make you sweat,” I said, rubbing my chest as I thought back on our encounter.
“Watch out now! I might need to join you.”
“Maybe you should so you can help me sell some of these books.” We laughed.
We were in Cleveland and Bryce had many fans here. Women came into the play wearing T-shirts with his face on them. He had to be the biggest gospel singer of our time. Crossing over to R&B would be easy for him, his fan base was mega.
During intermission, he surprised everybody when he came out and mingled for a brief moment. I was a little irritated because I was about to make a couple of sales to the T-shirt wearing crew. As soon as the women heard his voice, they practically threw the books down at me and rushed over to greet him.
Bryce happened to glance over and see where the ladies were coming from. When our eyes met, I made the biggest pout face I could. He had to understand his stunt to gain attention just screwed me over.
Mending the tension, he brought the twelve women over to my table. “Ladies, have you heard of Shari McCray? Well, she is the bomb. I read her novel three times. If you’re diggin’ the play so far, trust me, you’ll get a high from reading the book.”
I couldn’t believe he kept ranting about how if I hadn’t written the book, there would be no way they’d be enjoying the play. I didn’t just sell twelve books to those ladies, I sold forty. Melvin came and removed Bryce from my table to inform him it was time for the second act. As they walked away, I knew I was never going to forget his kind gesture.
Since things picked up, I decided to stay on the tour. The next couple of weeks, it was the same. The play was sold out night after night and during intermission the paying crowd was paying for my books. During the breaks, I tried to find the time to finish the novel I was working on. However, writer’s block had me held up and bound.
I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t concentrate. I probably felt bad for leaving my kids with my mom. And with my husband; I was still so confused and mixed-up. I felt that God had given me this opportunity so that I could seize the moment and find myself.
Going into the hotel, I saw Bryce in the lobby trying to get away from a lady. Their conversation didn’t seem too friendly. She was tugging at his shirt collar, practically wanting to choke him.
Melvin came over to me, and said, “Don’t worry. That’s his wife, Pamela. I’m sure you’ve read in the tabloids that they are estranged. He’s trying to get a divorce, and she’s trying to work with anyone to ruin him. It’s just a mess.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I uttered aloud, without even thinking I was alluding to my own ugly union.
“What, you’re having marital problems too? A cute little thing like you should be able to hold hers down. Marriage is hard enough, but being on the road can add even more tension to the relationship if your dude isn’t supportive,” he said to me.
“Speak the truth again,” I said, as I looked over at Bryce’s wife crying.
I could tell she was in pain, but yelling and screaming in the hall wasn’t helping her cause. I had no clue what caused Bryce to want out, but if I was a man she wouldn’t attract me.
“Melvin, can I speak with you for a second?” Lacy, the leading lady of the play, came up to him, ignoring me, and asked.
She didn’t give Melvin a chance to say bye to me. She rudely jumped between us, swung her weave in my face, and jerked him over to a secluded corner. As they walked a few steps away he held up one finger, motioning for me to wait. Standing there I overheard Lacy gripe.
“Look, Melvin, I don’t even understand why his wife is here. I mean, we’re together now,” she said, as I swallowed hard, wishing I hadn’t heard that information.
“Lacy, I can’t speak for Bryce, but it sounds like you’re thinking the two of you have more than is really there.”
“Ugh!” she screamed, before scampering away.
Melvin stepped back over to me. “Guess you didn’t know that being on tour can give you a lot to write about, huh?”
“I try to stay out of other people’s business,” I told him, giving him the politically correct answer. “My mind can think of enough warped things on its own.”
“Your agent said something about you having to report to a conference?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s great. We got a little down time before we head to the next city. Come back.”
“I don’t even know if I’m doing any good here. I’m just selling the books. You guys can do that.”
“Your presence is uplifting. You’re the writer of this amazing story. Knowing you’re around lifts the cast. Bryce has even talked about you many times in the preshow meetings. You’re wanted back.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
And just like the stars I saw the first night of the tour that blinked on and off, I had hope. That maybe there was a real purpose why God had me where I was. Maybe if I stuck it out, that reason would become clearer.
I was in Orlando, Florida, seated beside my agent at the big banquet that the Christian Bookseller’s Association hosted annually. Looking around the large ballroom I could see that there was nobody who looked like me. You know, no black folks were in the room. But they’d added a new category: Best African-American fiction.
“I think you’ve got a good shot at winning this thing,” Tina said to me as she looked at the other names in my category.
“Just being nominated is enough for me,” I quickly admitted to her.
She gave me a look of disappointment. Her tough demeanor was good for negotiating deals, but this time it was a little bit annoying. I didn’t show any kind of resentment. I just chalked up her overbearingness to her caring. Despite what she said, I was happy to simply be there. Winning and losing was in God’s hands. And as the evening went on and I got to be more up and personal with authors I’d admired, I’d forgotten all about why I was there.
Until Tina hit me in the arm and said, “Here’s your category. Here’s your category.”
“African-American fiction has been on the scene for over a decade now,” the presenter stated. “And I’m thrilled that the gold-medallion award this year will have representation from that genre. As Christians we all belong to the same race, but there is nothing wrong with us branching out as authors, publishers, and booksellers to reach all markets. So with the warmest regard, I present the first Christian Booksellers award for an African-American fiction title to Shari McCray!”
“Oh my God!” Tina shouted in the room.
It was a special moment for me. And the brightness of the lights and spotlight made me blink a few times. But I felt like a star, like this was my night. Like all my hard work had finally paid off.
Taking a deep breath I swallowed, stepped to the podium and said, “It took me seven years to get this book out there. I was rejected by so many companies I just wanted to quit. But the Holy Spirit living inside me told me to keep going. I realized God had me write this book to minister to the souls of the lost. The Lord has us here to bring people to Him. The title Luv Right or Git Left is a message to others letting them know that He doesn’t want them to leave Him behind. I accept this award today grateful that the book has done well. May we all keep leading people to Him. I thank all of you for doing your work.”
I was just a little black girl going into the Christian bookstores, seeing many sections but never seeing a place for African-American titles. Standing here with this award in my hand, I felt more than accepted. The overwhelming feeling felt fabulous.
“Thank you for recognizing all God’s people. Though we have different needs, we all need Him. So keep doing what you’re doing and live for Christ.” I got a standing ovation and the tears fell.
The next day I was on
the International Christian Retail Show floor signing copies of my book. I could see other booths where authors had their lines wrapped double for people to get signatures. My line was close to empty. But instead of sulking about it, I thought about sitting at the play and feeling ill about not selling a lot of books. I was there to uplift the Lord. Wanting to be the most popular author was not my purpose. The Lord just wanted me to be the best me I could, not put myself in competition with other authors. Though maybe my publisher wouldn’t see it that way, I knew God was in control. So with every person who stood to meet me I seized the opportunity to overly exuberate how excited I was about the title. And before I knew it my line had grown extensively.
I hadn’t had a chance to look up because I had to move faster with the growing line. My publicist said, “You have one more.”
“And who would you like me to sign this too?” I asked, looking down at the work.
“Bryce Maddox is fine,” the familiar husky voice said.
The pen trembled in my hand as I looked up to see none other than Mr. Maddox himself standing in front of me. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to come here to do some promotions with my new CD. I am a gospel singer you know. I heard all the buzz about this new Christian author. Had to come check her out for myself.”
“You have a copy of this book,” I whispered.
“I don’t have it signed,” he whispered back. “What are you doing after this?”
“Um . . .” I uttered, having a frog in my throat.
He completely caught me off guard. Was he asking for my time? Not a date for sure.
“I think I’m done. I did some interviews before this so I got a second. What’s up?” I asked, trying to act cavalier.
“Cool. Let’s hang out.”
After speaking with folks at the publishing company and wrapping up at the booth, Bryce and I walked the elaborate floor. It was like the biggest, prettiest Christian bookstore you would ever want to be in. The booths were fabulous. Publishers were well represented. I didn’t have enough focus to give to all the booths I was passing, because I was floored with the gentleman I was walking beside.
“So when do you leave?” I finally asked as any concerned friend would.
“Tomorrow. You free tonight?”
Hesitantly, I said, “Yeah.”
Sitting in my hotel room in Orlando, I saw I had three missed calls: one from my agent and two from my knucklehead husband. “I’m sorry, buddy. But I’m not calling you back,” I said, reflecting on Dillon. He’d made a bed with me and now he needed to lie in it; really understand how he’s pushed me away.
But I did need to call Tina. However, I wasn’t up for any lectures. Though she was married, she didn’t have children and, in my opinion, didn’t have a life outside of publishing. She was very opinionated and made the world think she had all the answers. Actually, she’d lost several great clients, which ended up working in my favor. She probably would’ve never picked me up, poor ole undiscovered me, had she not been a little more free with her client roster.
“Hey, lady,” I said, a little woozy inside.
Something about talking to her had me on edge. I was a grown woman. Around her, I felt like a child.
“So, I’ll be at your room in an hour for dinner. I was wondering when you were gonna call me back. There are so many other things I could be doing. Came down here to celebrate your achievements and I can’t find you anywhere, girl.”
Just tell her you got plans. Tell her you can’t be with her, I said to myself. That was my problem. I felt bullied by so many people in my life: my parents, my agent, my husband. I needed to take charge and seize the opportunity to chill her forcefulness. Just when I was about to let her have it, I thought about my words and chose carefully.
Gently, I said, “I have other plans.”
“What do you mean, you have other plans?” she gruffed back.
“Well, Bryce Maddox from the play is here. He wants to go over some strategies with me about how to keep the buzz going if I’m available.”
“Well, I can sit with you guys and go over that stuff. I’ve got tons of ideas,” Tina said, forcing herself on me.
I hated lying, but I came up with an excuse. Babbling, I quickly blurted, “I don’t know. He seems pretty weird about other people. What do you think, should I handle this on my own?”
I thought turning the tables would make Tina think it was her idea to bow out gracefully. I held my breath as she took a second to answer. Could I psyche her into not going?
“Well, if you put it that way it is a good opportunity. They are keeping you on the tour this long. There really was no guarantee that they would have this extended period of time. I got a call earlier today that you’re staying for a while longer. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up and keep this strictly business. I know that he’s a ladies man. But we have nothing to worry about, you’re married. Whatever he’s selling, Shari won’t be buying.” When I didn’t comment, she said, “Right?”
“Please, Tina. Only business,” I said as we hung up.
I was so self-conscious though. Bryce was incredibly handsome. His wife wasn’t gorgeous, but the ladies that clinged to him were. I was just a plain suburban mom. I hated my look.
As the time grew closer for Bryce and me to mingle, I got down on my knees and prayed, “Okay, Lord. I know this seems weird but I don’t know if this is completely wrong. I’m totally attracted to this man. I need You to be with me through this thing. And I know that’s crazy because I’m married. It should be clear You’re seeing all of this. But if marriages are broken, you should get out, right? Ugh. I’m so confused.”
And at that very moment the hotel phone rang. “Hello?” I answered.
“Are you ready to meet me downstairs, pretty lady?” Bryce’s sexy voice said to me.
“I’ll be right down. And what do you have planned for us this evening?”
“Ha. Surprise, surprise.”
He wasn’t kidding. Our day was filled with pampering, with us going to a day spa and me getting my nails done. Then he took me to a hairstylist, where I got a little color and new trim. I couldn’t believe all of this.
When I looked in the mirror and saw my new hairdo, I said, “So, what, I needed an upgrade to be by your side?”
“No. I just know when a woman could use the joy that only taking care of herself can bring. How are you feeling?”
“Great.”
“Good. There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“I wanna pick you out a beautiful dress. Every time I see you in nice suits I can only imagine you with a v-neck dress with no bra and no panties. Ooh, and some sexy pumps sashaying your body in front of me, gettin’ a brotha’ all hot and bothered.”
Okay, wait, I thought to myself. Cool down, mister. But then a stronger part of me wished he wouldn’t cool down at all. I wished we could quit talking and go back to my hotel room and have it out. Then I realized I didn’t know this joker. What was the harm in playing along and actually enjoying myself? So we headed to the mall and he found me five perfect dresses. I didn’t even have to choose. But I did wear underwear. When I came out of the dressing room, I didn’t disappoint as I let my hips move from left to right.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said as he stood up and gave me a big hug.
“I’m tired.”
“Oh, no. I’m taking you out on the town. You like sushi?”
“I think I like you,” I said, flirting.
“I think I like you back.” He chuckled. “I’m serious. How could a guy not catch feelings for a lady whose eyes twinkle?”
Chapter 5
Shining
As my body willingly eased into the back of the limo with Bryce, I was startled when my cell phone rang. The noise caught me so off guard I bumped my head. Bryce rubbed the top of it and I was even more fidgety. I couldn’t have him touching me. Hairs stood up on my back. I really wasn’t supposed to like him like that.
/> Looking down at the phone, I dropped it like a hot potato when I saw my home number. I hadn’t spoken to my husband in over a week. Scary chills now raced up and down my spine.
Immediately, I started sweating. Then I began contemplating whether I should let it go to voicemail or whether I should answer it. When it rang again, I picked it up. Last thing I wanted was Bryce to say, “Hello.”
Bryce quickly asked the question, “Aren’t you going to get it?” insinuating himself into my business. And though I admitted we had a connection, I wasn’t ready to divulge anything about my broken marriage.
I couldn’t say to Bryce, “Oh, no, this is my husband on the line. I’m not going to answer it, because surely he wouldn’t understand me having dinner at nine o’clock with a man he knew I’ve lusted over for years.” That’s when I knew no matter how I wanted to spin this friendship, encouragement, congratulations dinner, or whatever it was, this was wrong!
The phone rang loudly once more. Instinctively I picked it up. I smiled at Bryce, holding up one finger and said into the receiver, “Hello.”
“It’s me,” Dillon said roughly, sounding like he knew I knew it was him.
I could tell by his tone that he was a little irritated that I didn’t respond in my usual way. My standard greeting for him over the years had been a friendly, “Hey, honey, what’s up?” But he didn’t deserve that kind of greeting from me. Granted I hadn’t reached out to him, but he hadn’t reached out to me either. Then I had to ask myself, Had I even prayed about our relationship? Had I asked God to protect my husband and help him see his anger was against God’s will? Yeah, sort of, I guess. Right? I was all confused.
“What’s going on?”
It was really sorta hard to talk. I mean I was out, supposedly to have a nice evening on the town with a new beau. Only to have my time interrupted by my husband calling me before the night could begin. Maybe that was the Lord’s way of saying, Shari, what are you doing?
Bryce was so understanding. He acted like my friend by motioning with his hand for me to take my time. The door was still open and he got out and said, “I’ll be back. Handle your call in private.”