Free A Sin and a Shame by Victoria Christopher Murray Page A

calls.” He peered at her for another moment. “I hope we understand each other.”
    “I don’t understand at all.”
    “I don’t know any other way to say I’m not interested.”
    Her face heated under his glare. Slowly, she rose and turned away, determined not to utter another word.
    “Hope to see you in church on Sunday, Sister Jasmine.”
    Without looking at him, she closed the reverend’s door. She wanted to run to her car, but first she had to pass Mrs. Whittingham’s desk. The woman sat, as Brother Hill leaned over her, and the two hovered in quiet conversation. Their talking stopped when she neared. She wasn’t going to give them any satisfaction—she looked them straight in their eyes before she turned to the exit.
    “Sister Jasmine, you have a nice day.”
    All she wanted to do was get away. From Reverend Bush and his cronies. If he didn’t want her, fine. This was New York. The city was filled with eligible men. Men who were more sophisticated, who had more money, who were much finer, and who had much more to offer than the reverend.
    Hope to see you in church on Sunday, Sister Jasmine.
    Oh, yes, he would see her. He would see her every Sunday.
    As she stomped to the corner, she made a vow. To make sure that the day would come when she would make Reverend Bush regret his rejection. One day Reverend Bush would be sorry that he had ever let her go.

Chapter 7
    S ome things were going to have to change.
    Jasmine zipped her suitcase, threw her mink over her shoulders, and then rolled her luggage into the hallway. As she rode in the elevator, she thought of the list she was going to give Malik once the club opened. First, she’d need a car service. Calling for cabs had been fine—until she noticed how many people in New York had drivers.
    At least I’m flying first class, she thought, although she wondered why Malik didn’t have his own plane. If he had, she wouldn’t be up so early.
    She yawned and pushed back thoughts of Reverend Bush that had kept her tossing much of the night. She refused to yield to the feelings his words had caused. She was above that. She was above him.
    “Good morning, Ms. Larson,” Henrikas said the moment she stepped off the elevator. It was barely six o’clock, but Jasmine was no longer surprised to see him at every hour. “Do you need a cab?” he asked with his ever-present cheer.
    Jasmine nodded. “I’m going to LaGuardia.”
    He nodded, but just as he opened the door, Mae Frances sauntered from the elevator.
    “Good morning, Jasmine Larson.” She eyed Jasmine’s bag. “Looks like you’re going on a trip.”
    Jasmine’s eyes roamed up and down her neighbor. Mae Frances was wrapped again in her mink.
    “Well?” Mae Frances said, exasperation in her tone as she waited for Jasmine’s response. A diamond glinted from her ring finger.
    “I’m going to Los Angeles on a business trip.”
    “That doesn’t sound like fun.” Mae Frances turned to Henrikas. “Put her bags in my car, please.”
    Jasmine frowned. “What?”
    Mae Frances raised one penciled eyebrow. “You’re going to the airport, aren’t you?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “But what? Don’t you need a ride? Or would you prefer to take one of those…cabs?”
    Jasmine wasn’t sure if she liked Mae Frances—not the way she talked, not the way she took control. But her curiosity about the woman was tying itself around her neck.
    “Well, are you coming?” Mae Frances asked with impatience.
    “Yes, thank you,” she said, thinking riding in a limo was better—even if she had to ride with her.
    “How are you on time?” Mae Frances asked once the car pulled from the curb. “Do you have a few minutes to spare?”
    Jasmine hoped this woman wasn’t about to take her on some drive through the city. “My plane leaves in about two hours, but I like to get there early.”
    “No problem.” Mae Frances said to the driver, “Starbucks, Gerald Davis.” When the car stopped, Mae Frances said, “I hope