you get into this group, your whole life will change forever. You understand?”
He didn’t have to tell her that. She knew this must be crucial for him to miss work so he could take her to meet these people in Houston. Not exactly the Mecca for R&B talent, but now that Jermaine Dupri was putting Atlanta on the map, and some guys out of St. Louis, Missouri, of all places, were making a name for their town, reputable, well-connected studios were popping up all over the country.
Though only a few years older than his sister, Courtney had a severity about him that afforded him instant respect with adults. People even called him “little man” growing up because, in some ways, he was never a child. “He’s just got an old spirit,” Bobby Junior would say.
The day she auditioned was the day she met Alexis and Tonya for the first time, along with twelve other girls they beat out for the top slots. The fourth spot went to a girl named Janiah, who didn’t have the good sense to keep the fact that she was pregnant under wraps until she’d signed a contract.
An audition that was supposed to last a day or two turned into a week as the producer called back several of the girls he’d sent home crying. Kyra was one of those girls. Realizing she’d better sing like her life depended on it, Kyra nailed the song the second time around. Camille never really thought this was fair to the other girls, but, hey—she was in no position to speak her mind.
Courtney hadn’t expected to be in negotiations with T-Money’s business associates most of that week, but he was more than ready for the challenge. Camille left all the paperwork and money talk to her big brother while she and the rest of what would later be known as Sweet Treats sang their throats raw in the adjacent recording room.
When it was all said and done, Courtney’s bargaining skills landed him the job as the group’s manager and some kind of limited rights that Camille didn’t quite understand at the time. She trusted Courtney to handle the legal mumbo-jumbo. He said he’d bet on the group with T-Money, and he hoped that one day, he’d be a rich man. Camille hoped so, too, because staying in Houston had cost Courtney his management trainee job and put him in a rough spot, financially, since he had to pay for a hotel room for the week.
Bobby Junior wired them some money halfway through their stay, which came with thick ropes attached. Though she wasn’t actually on the phone, she’d heard her father’s words to Courtney, “This is coming from your momma’s insurance money. Y’all better make it count, ’cause it’s all we have left of her.”
Courtney’s skinny face never looked so heavy. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m gonna make it happen.”
And that’s exactly what Courtney did. Up until the day he got replaced.
Camille couldn’t think about that now. “Life is too short to look back,” she told herself.
CHAPTER 9
Now that Camille believed her days at Aquapoint Systems were numbered, she had a much better attitude about going to work. Bringing her lunch actually morphed into a pleasurable part of her plan to eat healthier and lose weight.
Even Fluffy seemed to benefit from her new attitude. “The doctor says she’s never seen such a remarkable recovery,” Camille remarked to Sheryl. Actually, she needed to do something to stop this woman after she’d inquired about the feline for two days in a row. The way Sheryl carried on, Camille wondered if her boss had lost sleep behind Fluffy.
“Oh, wow! You’ve got to give me your vet’s name!”
“Okay, I’ll have to remember to pick up a card the next time we’re there.” Camille nodded with a straight face.
Sheryl whipped out her cell phone. “Wait. Before you go back to your desk, let me show you the pictures I took of Lillie last weekend.”
Camille oohed and aahed over a shot of Sheryl’s purebred cocker spaniel, then quickly darted back to her office before Sheryl could ask to see a photo of the invisible Fluffy.
Good humor translated into a genuinely cheerful tone, which meant mega leads for Camille. Already, she was at twenty-nine appointments, and it was only Wednesday morning. All this, of course, meant she’d bought herself some time to handle church investigation while on the company’s clock. The more she accomplished at Aquapoint, the less stuff on her plate after hours. Good thing, too, because after her last two workouts on Medgar’s treadmills, Camille was too pooped to do much else.
She figured it would take a few days for the church secretary—or whoever input new members’ information—to put her name on the church roll. Since she’d already received a postcard from The King’s Table, she hoped Grace Temple wouldn’t be too far behind with processing.
Now for the real business. Camille skipped on over to her church’s homepage and found the link to church staff. She recognized the praise team leader’s photo. His name was Ronald Shepherd. According to his biography, he’d earned a bachelor of music degree from the University of North Texas and some kind of theological degree from a Dallas seminary. There were no graduation years posted, but Camille guessed he was probably a few years older than her.
His e-mail address and phone extension popped up when she hovered over his handsome face. She took note, glanced at her watch, and decided she’d better wait until a more casual hour, say ten o’clock, so she wouldn’t appear as though her entire existence depended on this call. Besides, she needed some time to get her verbiage together.
She struggled to find an appropriate angle on this one. How could she introduce herself and ask to be on the praise team in the same breath? She needed some history, a real reason for Ronald to thrust her into the limelight. She needed what saints at the old church would have called a “blazing-hot testimony,” one where God had picked her up, turned her around, and placed her feet on solid ground. Or did he take her feet out of the “miry clay” first? Was “miry” even a word?
Hmmm. What could she say that was maybe at least partially true. She didn’t mind lying about an animal, but she didn’t want to jinx herself. Think! Think!
Okay, there was one time, during her grade school days, when she got lost in J.C. Penney and a little old lady with almost transparent skin led her to the gift-wrapping department, where a lady paged Jerdine to claim Camille. When she and Jerdine searched for the good Samaritan in order to thank her, she was gone. Momma had remarked, “Must have been an angel in disguise.”
That story actually brought goose bumps to Camille’s arms every time she recalled the incident, but it had nothing to do with her singing. Other than maybe a song about lost souls, she couldn’t find an inroad.
What else?
Her mind blank, she opened up a Word file and brainstormed all the potentially life-threatening events in her life that God might have delivered her from:
1. Cut leg on Slip ’n’ Slide
2. Got whole bunch of water in mouth @ Wet ’n’ Wild water park
3. Swallowed penny
4. Walking pneumonia
Hold up. Pneumonia was serious. People died from it. She could have died from it or maybe lost a lung if her parents hadn’t taken her to see a doctor, which they did—but whatever. Point was, it could have happened, and that’s what mattered.
She thought through her testimony: As a child, she’d suffered from a bronchial problem. Clearly, the devil had been trying to steal her voice. But her mother, a prayer warrior, prayed her through so that God could use this instrument of praise for His glory. And once the Lord healed her from all those breathing-related issues that threatened to swipe her off the earth, she opened her mouth and the most beautiful sound on earth came through loud and clear. She’d been singing ever since!
By midmorning, Camille had rehearsed the narrative so many times she almost believed it. Confident of her ability to garner support, she dialed the church’s main number and waited for the prompt to enter