Free The First Lady by Carl Weber Page A

quickly pointed to my office as if to say, “If we hurry, we can hide in there.” But Monique had seen us, and I was glad because she’d been on my mind a lot the past few days. We’d had several meetings about her bookstore proposal since our dinner two weeks ago. They were all very professional in the church conference room, with my secretary and/or James present at all times. But even in that setting, I couldn’t stop myself from reliving that moment at her front door when she tried to kiss me. There was no denying that I was curious about what might have happened had I let that moment continue.
    “Please, Bishop, this is not the time or the place to have Monique all up in your face.” James’s voice was low but stern. “Now, enough is enough. The women’s Bible study class is about to get out, and that girl is dressed like a slut. I’m sorry, but we have to protect your reputation.” I shot him an angry look, and he shook his head. “All right, I’ll be quiet, but it’s your funeral.”
    He put on a fake smile as Monique walked up and gave each of us a hug. “Hey, Trustee. Hey, Bishop.”
    When she released me, it took everything I had to concentrate on her face and not stare at the cleavage that was popping out of her dress. James, on the other hand, was staring at her chest so hard, it looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his head. For someone who just seconds ago was condemning her for the way she was dressed, he sure seemed to appreciate it now. I was just waiting for him to ask her something outlandish like, “Are those things real?” Thank the Lord, he remained quiet.
    “So, to what do we owe the pleasure, Sister Monique?” I asked.
    “We just finished up Bible study, and I wanted to know if you had some free time this week to talk some more about the bookstore, maybe over dinner?”
    As if on cue, James doubled over and began coughing violently. This wasn’t anything new for him, though. He’d used this ploy before when he didn’t want me to answer someone, and I absolutely hated it.
    Sister Monique fell for his little act and asked with genuine concern, “Oh, my goodness, Trustee. Are you all right?”
    “He’s all right. Aren’t you, Trustee Black?” I placed my arm around his back, and as Monique stared at his face, I mashed right down on his foot with my size twelve-and-a-half shoe.
    “Aaarrghh! Doggone it, Bishop, that’s my toe!” James immediately stopped coughing as he jumped up in the air, then started hobbling around.
    “Ah, I’m sorry, Trustee. My feet are so big, sometimes I don’t know where they’re gonna land. I sure am glad your cough is okay, though. Look, why don’t you grab a seat in my office? You might wanna elevate that foot.” James cut his eye at me as he limped into my office. When he was out of sight, I turned back toward Monique.
    “Is he gonna be all right?” She stepped close enough that I could smell her perfume, and I inhaled deeply.
    “Oh, he’s going to be just fine. I step on his toes all the time. So, where were we?” I gave her a reassuring smile.
    “I was asking if you wanted to get together tonight so we could talk more about … the bookstore, of course.”
    “I’ve got something planned tonight, but how about Saturday evening? I don’t think I have anything scheduled.” Even I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. She was asking me to discuss church business, and I was suggesting that we do it on a Saturday night. I could have suggested any afternoon this week, but I chose a weekend night, which most unmarried people reserve for dates. This was the first time I had come remotely close to asking a woman out since my wife’s death, and it took me by surprise. I guess that while my heart was still sorting out my feelings, my body had seen Monique in that red dress and decided it was ready to move on.
    If I had any doubts about how my invitation would be received, Monique reassured me quickly that she was feeling the