game on television. They were both basketball fanatics.
Inside the apartment, Pearl headed straight for the couch. She needed to get out of her boots, which had been clearly designed for fashion, not for comfort.
Her cousin sat down on the chair facing Pearl. “C’mon, what did you really say to Pastor?”
Pulling off the black leather boots with four-inch heels, Pearl related the conversation.
Paige merely stared, tongue-tied. “He really told you that you were distracting the boys?” she asked after a moment.
“Yeah. I don’t think he was comfortable with telling me though. I feel like such an idiot now after the way I behaved. I thought he was giving me a hard time because of what happened at the reunion.”
“You know what I think? I think Pastor finds you a distraction for himself.”
Pearl dismissed her cousin’s comment with the wave of her hand.
“I’m serious. I bet he’s not telling any of the other women at church to wear longer dresses.”
At Pearl’s protest, her cousin continued. “Don’t you think he’s handsome?”
“Yeah, he’s nice-looking,” she admitted. “But Pastor Kendrick is much too old-fashioned for me.”
“If he’s interested in you, you better go for it. Honey, if some of the women at church have their way, he won’t be single for long. Did you see how Clara was all up in his face a couple of weeks ago? I’m surprised she wasn’t at church this morning.”
“She’s definitely not the woman for him.”
Paige broke into a grin. “So who is the woman for him?”
Shrugging, Pearl responded, “I don’t know. Sister Barbara is always up in his face—”
Paige laughed. “You wrong, Pearl. She’s his secretary.”
“She’s always trying to get him to have dinner at her house. You should see her. It’s shameful.”
“Jealous?”
“Me? No way.”
Paige rose to her feet. “I’m going to go straighten out my room and get my clothes ready for tomorrow, so I won’t have to worry about it when we come home from the movies.”
Pearl lay down on the couch. “Wake me when you’re ready to go.” She’d worked three double shifts at the restaurant in the past five days and she was dead tired.
She had just closed her eyes when the phone rang. She heard Paige answer on the third ring, then call out for her to pick up.
Pearl grabbed the extension closest to her—it was her manager. She eased up into a sitting position. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you called me. I can use the extra money. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
When Paige walked back into the living room, Pearl announced, “I’ll have to take a rain check on the movies. I need to go in to work.”
“Pearl, you need to take some time off.”
“I need the money. You know I spent most of my savings on those demo tapes.”
“Your sisters and I offered to help you, but you refused.”
“Paige, I need to do this for myself. Besides, I’d feel bad if nothing ever comes out of this and I’d taken money from y’all.”
“Can you do me a favor and bring me home an order of linguine à la pescatore?”
Pearl nodded. “In fact, I’ll pick up a couple of orders. But I’m not getting off until nine.”
“That’s fine. I’ll just eat a late lunch.”
Foregoing her nap Pearl made her way to her bathroom. The apartment she and Paige shared came with dual master bedrooms, each with its own glamour bath. She washed her face and freshened up, the hot water being exactly what she needed to bring her tired senses back to life.
Pearl dressed in a pair of black tuxedo pants, a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie. She walked out of her bedroom just as her cousin was about to knock on the door.
“Here’s the money for my food,” Paige stated, holding out a twenty.
“I’ll call you if I get off early.”
“Thanks.”
Pearl grabbed a short, red leather coat out of the hall closet and headed to the front door. “See you later.”
Thirty-five minutes later, Pearl parked on the employee side of the restored Victorian house that had been converted into an upscale Italian restaurant located in the heart of downtown. Milton’s Ristorante was considered one of the finest places to dine in Detroit.
Pearl had been working there for almost four years. She enjoyed working on the waitstaff because the job allowed her the flexibility she needed for her music and the tips were good.
Still, she dreamed of the day she’d be able to focus full-time on her music. Pearl knew deep in her heart that she was destined to be a singer.
Her time would come.
Soon.
Hopefully.
Chapter 2
Wade didn’t feel like cooking. In fact, he had grown tired of the variations of Hamburger Helper. He’d eaten enough of it to last him a lifetime.
He reconsidered the invitations issued by a couple of ladies in church. Both Barbara Delany, the church secretary, and Carole Davis came up to him after morning service to invite him over for dinner.
Wade knew without a doubt that the invite from Carole came with strings attached. Shortly after his arrival at Lakeview, Sister Carole became adamant in her attempts to get him to date her daughter, Elizabeth. Wade had taken her to dinner a couple of times.
Liz was nice enough but she was very needy and had a lot of issues. Wade was barely dealing with his own demons, had been for the past ten years. He couldn’t take on any additional baggage in his personal life.
He made his way over to the refrigerator and looked inside, noting the bag of salad, a few pieces of fruit and some leftover Hamburger Helper. Wade checked the freezer. He had a steak and a couple of pieces of chicken but they were frozen solid. There was no telling how long they’d been in there and would take too long to thaw out.
The last time he tried to defrost a piece of meat in the microwave…Just the memory was enough to convince Wade not to relive that particular experience. Cooking skills were definitely not among his talents.
Maybe I should seriously consider looking for a wife.
A fleeting image of Pearl Lockhart drifted through his mind. Wade shook his head, trying to shut out all awareness of her.
She’s definitely not the woman for me.
His stomach growled loudly.
He briefly considered ordering Chinese food but didn’t really have a taste for it. Actually, he was in the mood for pasta. He recalled one of the deacons telling him about a pretty good Italian restaurant in the area.
What was it called? Wade searched his memory.
Milton’s, that was it.
He strolled into his office and looked it up on the Internet, searching for details and reviews on the restaurant.
Satisfied with what he’d read, he grabbed his coat, wallet and keys and headed to the door.
Inside his black Chrysler 300, Wade keyed the address into his GPS navigational system. He steered the car out of the driveway and onto the street. He was looking forward to enjoying a meal that hadn’t been prepared by his hands or come with somebody’s daughter as the dessert.