A Sin and a Shame by Victoria Christopher Murray Read Free Book Online

Bush to Jefferson Blake. Reverend Bush was not married. And there was a big difference between obsession and determination.
    “Jasmine, I thought you were happy here.”
    “I am,” she said looking directly at him. “Why is my wanting to get to know your pastor such a problem? I just want to spend some time with him because I like him.”
    “You don’t know him.”
    “That’s why I’ve been asking you to help me.”
    “Jasmine, you’re chasing the wind. Reverend Bush is not interested in you.”
    “And you know this…how?”
    He sighed. “Jasmine, you’re almost forty years old, way too old to be going through this. I would think you’d want to spend your time learning about the city, getting set up in your apartment, and most importantly, getting settled in your job. I need you one hundred percent at Rio.”
    “And I’m not going to give you any less,” Jasmine said. “My social life won’t interfere with my work. But just remember, Malik, it’s my social life. And it’s none of your business.”
    He softened his voice. “I’m worried about you. It’s like you’re obsessed…again.”
    There it was. She tried to contain her rising rage. “Let me break this down for you. I met someone whom I’d like to get to know better,” she said, speaking slowly. “It happens every day between men and women, Malik.”
    “It happens when two people are interested in each other, Jasmine. And, Reverend Bush is not interested in you.”
    What was he talking about? Twice, she’d seen how Reverend Bush looked at her. Yesterday it had been a look of disapproval, but still, his glance had wandered. And today, she saw the glimmer in his eyes. She knew she could have the reverend any time and in any way she wanted him. “It doesn’t matter what you think,” she said to Malik. “I’m going to spend some time with Reverend Bush. One on one. Man to woman. Not. A. Big. Deal.”
    They stood toe-to-toe. Then Malik backed away and raised his hand, motioning for a cab. When the car eased over, he opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said as she slid into the backseat.
    That was the extent of their good-bye. Jasmine gave her address to the driver and then leaned back against the cracked vinyl seat.
    That was ridiculous, she thought. The way Malik had spoken to her. All because of one minor mistake she’d made in the past. She didn’t know why everyone still made such a big deal over Jefferson Blake. It wasn’t like she’d had an affair with her best friend’s husband. It was just sex, just once. And Kyla and Jefferson were still together, living happily in that nirvana they’d created. So if they were able to move on, why was she being defined by her past?
    Reverend Bush was nothing like Jefferson Blake. Reverend Bush was a free man. Grown and free. And so was she.
    I’m worried about you. It’s like you’re obsessed again. Her sigh was filled with anger at the memory of Malik’s words. As if he were some kind of doctor. As if he were qualified to give her a diagnosis.
    Actually, she’d felt this way when she had seen a doctor. To appease her father, Jasmine had visited a psychologist when she first moved to Pensacola. It had been a surprise to her when her father had insisted. All her life she’d thought black people didn’t go to shrinks—black folks went to church. God took care of anything that ailed anyone.
    But her father thought it best if Jasmine turned to God—and Dr. Reade. She’d made the promise to do both. Although she went to church every Sunday, she’d seen Dr. Reade twice. Stopped right after he told her that she suffered from autophobia.
    When she’d searched the Internet for the definition, she’d spent twenty minutes laughing at how that psychologist had lost his mind—and needed to lose his license.
    “I don’t have any fear of being alone.”
    “You say something?” the driver shouted over the strange fusion of sounds that screamed from the car’s speakers.
    She