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marketing. I can give you guys some ideas.”
    He glanced at his watch. “I’ve gotta get going.”
    “So, you’re really not going to help me?”
    He closed the calendar on his desk. “Have Gabriella make your reservations for L.A. Remember, the designers are presenting their final plans tomorrow, so Thursday would be a good time to go.”
    She remained in her chair, even when he moved around the desk and kissed her cheek. Still, she stayed in place, not looking at him.
    “Okay, you win.”
    She jumped up and smiled.
    He held up his hands. “Not today, but I promise I’ll figure out a way for you to get together with Reverend Bush soon.”
    She turned to stone.
    “Come on, don’t be mad.”
    She lifted the computer bag from the floor. “Only dogs get mad, Malik.”
    He shrugged. “Remember tomorrow’s meeting,” he said. “The entire staff will be there.”
    She didn’t acknowledge his words. Just stayed in her place as he said good-bye to Gabriella. When she heard the bing of the elevator signaling the closing doors, she stood. She walked past her new assistant, Tina, and into her own office.
    Like her apartment, this space was still filled with unpacked boxes. She sat at her desk, opened her compact, and checked her makeup. Then, she pulled an empty manila folder from the box of supplies Tina had given her. Finally, she tossed the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
    “Malik, how long have you known me?” she asked the empty office. “You know I don’t give up.” She clicked off the light in her office, then waved to Tina. “I’ve got a few errands to run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    It had been eight days since she’d first laid eyes on Reverend Bush. Not too much time in the scheme of life. But too much time for her and the reverend. It was time to get this party started.
     
    The pointed toe of Jasmine’s stiletto boot tapped an impatient beat.
    The plan had been to walk into the church, march into the meeting, present Malik with important papers he’d forgotten, and then accept Reverend Bush’s gracious invitation to stay.
    But once she arrived, she hadn’t counted on Mrs. Whittingham. The church’s secretary was a short, stout, gray-haired woman who made up in her tone what she lacked in stature. Mrs. Whittingham glared at Jasmine over gold-rimmed glasses that were set low on her nose.
    “I am not about to allow you to barge into that meeting,” she said in a voice that was barely a whisper after Jasmine made her request known. “You are not a member of that committee. Are you even a member of this church? I’ve never seen you before.” The woman rolled her eyes before she motioned for Jasmine to have a seat on the couch outside of the conference room.
    Now, Jasmine glanced at her watch. An hour passed—time wasted.
    The double-doors to the conference room finally opened and Jasmine jumped to her feet. Pairs of men and a few women strolled through the doors, still continuing their conversations. One man stopped when he saw her and Jasmine groaned inside. Her nemesis. The usher. Brother Hill. Even though his white suit was absent he still wore his welcoming smile, although Jasmine was no longer fooled.
    “Jasmine, what are you doing here?”
    She turned from the usher when she heard Malik’s voice. Her smile widened when she saw the one standing next to him. “Hey, Malik,” she said, as if she was supposed to be there. “You ran out of the office so fast you forgot these.” She handed the empty folder to him and then turned toward the reverend.
    “Reverend Bush, good to see you again.”
    “Yes.” He smiled back at her and Jasmine was glad that she’d worn the black knit dress today. Although it hugged her body’s curves, it was still more conservative than what she’d worn to church.
    The reverend said to Malik, “I had the pleasure of meeting your godsister yesterday.”
    “Did you?” Malik responded, although he kept his eyes on Jasmine.
    But her attention remained