Divine Intervention by Lutishia Lovely Read Free Book Online Page A

that Princess had opted for bubbles instead of the traditional rice shower. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
    Bolstered by Brittany’s personal question, Chandra went next. “I still can’t believe you haven’t even seen what the man is working with. That’s like buying a dress without trying it on!”
    “Not quite,” was Princess’s dry reply.
    “Seriously, girl. What are you going to do if the man has an earthworm instead of a cobra? The worse question that you could ask on your wedding night is ‘is it in?’”
    The ladies howled. Princess stood. “Okay, now that I see what’s behind the final curtain I’m going to make this my final curtain call.”
    “Wait, Princess,” Joni asked, crossing the room to where Princess stood. “Don’t mind the horny singles. I have a question for you.” Princess shifted her weight from one leg to the other and crossed her arms. “It’s legit, I promise. We know he’s special since he took you off the market, but for you, what makes Rafael Stevens stand head and shoulders above all the other men in the world?”
    Princess plopped back on the bed, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her chin upon them as she pondered her answer. “So many things,” she said softly. “But simply put, Rafael is a good man, a nice guy. I know they say that nice guys finish last, but that’s only because women are too stupid to recognize a good thing when they see it. We often go for the bad boys, the brave men, the instant spark instead of the steady flame.”
    “Speak the truth, sistah!”
    “Shut up, Chandra.”
    “Girl, that sounded like it could go on a Mahogany greeting card.”
    “Whatever,” Princess said, laughing.
    “She is a best-selling published author,” Joni said, reminding a group that didn’t need to be reminded. Princess Brook’s memoir, Jesus Is My Boo , became a NYT bestseller. “So everybody knows she has a way with words.”
    “I’m going to go away in about sixty seconds. Y’all done?”
    “We don’t want our girl looking tore up from the floor up tomorrow, y’all,” Chandra said with exaggerated seriousness. “Let a sistah answer the questions and be done.”
    The questions from the remaining six ladies rained in, encased in plenty of jokes and laughter.
    “If Jesus is your boo, who is Rafael?”
    “My husband.”
    “Are you going to live in LA or KC?”
    “Ugh! I’ve already told y’all this. I’m going to move into Rafael’s downtown condo and schedule periodic trips to the West Coast.”
    “What’s the thing you’ll most miss about being single?”
    “That would be my sleeping attire of choice, oversized T-shirts and cotton pj’s, in favor of sexy negligees.”
    “Do you think you’ll ever learn to cook?”
    “Not as long as there are restaurants and takeout.”
    Laughter and zingers aimed at the bride-to-be abounded.
    Finally, as the clock on the wall neared 1 a.m., Sarah asked the last question. “If there was one collective prayer you’d have us say tonight, a prayer for you and Rafael . . . what would it be?”
    The atmosphere shifted as the room got quiet. Suddenly, the mood was all serious and reflective. “I’d have y’all pray that God will bless my marriage,” she answered, eyeing each woman. “And that His will be done.”

8
    Here Comes the Bride . . . Again
    A n expectant energy pulsed through the seven hundred and fifty well-wishers that packed the Mount Zion Progressive Baptist Church for the 3 p.m. nuptials. After personally inviting almost five hundred guests, a lottery had been held for the remaining seats and every single one was taken. The marriage of the church’s first daughter was in and of itself enough to garner such attention but the promise of both Christian and secular celebrities in the mix no doubt added to the hype.
    For a moment, King stood at the back of the church and took it all in. It was a vantage point that he rarely experienced, and one that he found interesting indeed.