Free Diary of a Mad First Lady by Dishan Washington

because he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “To my house,” I corrected quickly.
    “All right, Miss Daisy,” he teased, “to your house it is. That’s my horse and buggy over there.”
    The horse and buggy that he referred to was a shiny black Mercedes S500 parked a couple of spaces over. Some horse and buggy. I sashayed over to his car, and being the perfect gentleman, he opened the passenger’s door for me as I got in, and then he dipped to his side of the car.
    “This is a really nice car.” I admired the smooth gray leather interior.
    “Thanks. It’ll do,” he said, obviously trying to show his humbleness.
    He started the engine, and if I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t have known that the car was even on. The quiet purr of the luxury car was soothing, and the air that was blowing generously from the vents surrounded by cherry wood grain was like water in the desert. I leaned back to fully enjoy the comfort and allowed my body to sink into the plush leather.
    “So, which way?” he asked.
    I adjusted myself in the seat. “I live in Atlantic Station.”
    He jerked his head in my direction. “Atlantic Station?” he said in surprise. “No wonder you don’t have any money.”
    I glared at him. I knew that he would think that as soon as I told him where I lived. But I was always ready for a comeback. “It’s not like what you think. I’m subleasing from a friend who relocated to Texas. She’s allowing me to stay there until my house is finished. I bought a place over in South Atlanta.”
    “Really?” he said in even more surprise. “What a coincidence. I live in South Atlanta.”
    This must be fate. “Really?” I said in astonishment. “What part?”
    “Fayette County.”
    “Me too!” I said with a little too much excitement.
    Darvin looked at me as if I were growing a second head.
    “I’m just excited because at least I know one person in Atlanta,” I explained to help reduce his concern.
    “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about not knowing anybody,” he said as he drove onto the interstate. “Do you go to church?”
    Wow. Was he inviting me to his church already? This was going better than I could imagine. I couldn’t contain my excitement. “Of course I go to church.” I looked over to him. “Do I look like I need to be saved or something?” I said sheepishly.
    His laughter returned. “No, I was asking because I was going to invite you to my church tonight.” He paused. “Tonight is our midweek service.”
    Who would’ve known that my old beat-up Honda would prove to be a blessing in disguise? “Sure. I would love to go to your church. Only thing is,”—I bowed my head to my lap for added measure—“I don’t have transportation, remember?”
    “I’ll handle that. You just be ready at six-thirty.”
    This man was a godsend. My mother had always told me that God will give you the desires of your heart. Darvin Johnson was certainly becoming a desire of my heart, and my moving to Atlanta was starting to be one of the best decisions of my life.

Chapter Eight
    Daphne
     
     
    I got out of bed still thinking about that day. The smile on my face quickly faded as I remembered how the remainder of the evening had played out.
    I strolled into the bathroom and snatched a towel from the linen closet. That stunt Darvin pulled that night still had a way of upsetting me to this day.
    I sat on the edge of my oversized Jacuzzi and allowed my mind to once again drift back to that day.
    Finding an outfit for church had been like finding the perfect dress for the red carpet. That night was about more than just going to church; it was about making a statement. I’d already thought of the women that I would have to impress because I was sure that Darvin was a highly sought-after bachelor. My thoughts for the men included leaving a hint of jealousy behind, so that they would envy Darvin and the new woman-to-be in his life.
    Finally, I selected a black Chanel suit that my ex-boyfriend had