“When I sent you the invite, I thought you’d actually show up and get this word,” he said. “Not slide in after it’s over.”
“I didn’t want to intrude. This isn’t my church home. I don’t want to interrupt the normal flow of things,” she explained.
“Where do you call home these days? Spiritually, I mean?” He cleared up.
Lauren looked down at her Fendi boots, a bit ashamed because she spent most of her weekends working. It had been some time since she had sat through someone’s Sunday service.
“I’m a little embarrassed to admit I’m not worshipping anywhere these days.” She shrugged. “It’s been a rough six months for me. I don’t even know if God wants my energy right now. Faith is at an all-time low.”
“And He’ll take you just like that,” Nyair answered. “There’s something about a woman walking in the room low and leaving high that make a nigga feel real purposeful. Women build homes every day to fulfill their needs. You rest your head at night, knowing you can please yourself with what you’ve equipped your home with. Your home is pleasurable, irresistible, comfortable, and safe. I create that pleasure here. I’d sacrifice a whole lot to provide that spiritual pleasure to you here, Lauren. If you ever have the time.”
Lauren’s heart was in her throat. She had no business being in the house of the Lord because Nyair was offering spiritual counsel, and she was swooning, interpreting his words in the most ungodly of ways.
“No pressure. I normally don’t got to apply too much pressure to get my way.” He smiled, dimple sinking his cheeks before extending a hand to allow her to walk by him. “My office is this way.”
Lauren admired the church’s beauty as they made small talk while walking. She didn’t miss the devotion to him. Everyone from children, young boys, elders, and women in the church vied for a piece of his time.
“They love you,” she said.
“They need me,” he said. “But it’s not one-sided. I need them too. We’re a family here. I’m held accountable by the family. Otherwise, I’d be giving in to the shit in my head too often.”
Lauren was taken aback. “Like this mouthpiece you got on you in the Lord’s house?”
“Man assigns meaning. Words are just words, Lauren. Who says which ones are good or bad? We made that part up,” Nyair said. “I ain’t mastered the art of being unauthentic yet, but I try to keep it godly as often as I can. My words are less potent than my actions, though. If I act in accordance of the cloth, I’d think that’s what’s most important.”
She was stumped, staring at a paradox of a man who felt as down to earth as any man she had ever met.
Don’t even think about this man in that way.
He was off-limits, and she was married…well, not really…but she was used to that being her excuse not to indulge. She had carried those vows with her every time she left the house, each time a man flirted, every time she found someone attractive. Marriage and her loyalty to it had kept her from making a misstep. She had nothing to stop her this time, and it scared her. Dating or lack there of was terrifying. Even the possibility of having to deal with a new man was frightening. She had been off the market for so long she couldn’t fathom being with someone other than Demi. It seemed like loneliness was instore for her, and it saddened her. Demi’s infidelity had led him to a new woman and led her to a place of loneliness.
He escorted her to his office, and she marveled at the luxury behind the antique wood door.
“You can wait here. I’ve got to shake hands and kiss babies, but I shouldn’t be long. We can game plan about the banquet when I’m done. Fifteen minutes. I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long,” he said.
“It’s no biggie. I’m patient,” she answered.
“Bless the man that finds a patient woman.” Nyair’s smile was so subtle she wondered if she imagined it as he walked out.
She wasn’t used to having time on her hands, but DJ being with Demi for the weekend gave her a moment to take pause. Being married with a young child for so long, she hadn’t realized how little she catered to herself. She had always been the woman who wished for space and a little peace until her split made her understand that the chaos of family life was filled with purpose and love. She had loved all those moments, even when she felt like she didn’t have anything left to give, even when exhaustion pulled her eyes to sleep at night, she had relished those moments…the responsibility of loving a Black boy and a Black man. Now, she was reduced to empty weekends every other Friday.
Her heart was broken in a way that made her resentful, it made her bitter, and Lauren had never been that. Sunshine felt like burns, and rain felt like cleansing now. Demi had turned her world upside down and she was just fighting to make it through her day without crying. Today, she hadn’t felt the sting of betrayal visit her yet, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she was in the house of the Lord or if it was because of the company she was keeping today.
When Nyair returned, he wore a camel-colored pea coat. “You want to get out of here? I’m starving. A change of scenery would do me well. I been looking at Bibles and torn stockings all day.”
Lauren laughed. “Sure. I can follow you.”
“No need. I’ll drive. We can talk about the banquet on the way. Get the business out the way before we get to the pleasure part,” Nyair said.
She raised an eyebrow. The audacity and confidence of this man were at max capacity. He wore it in his mannerisms, in his stance, in his tone of voice. She liked it. “A little forward there, preacher man. Don’t you think?”
“A little presumptuous there, beautiful. The pleasure I’m talking about is edible and on the menu at the restaurant I’m taking you to,” he chuckled. “But if you need a different type of pleasing…”
“There’s no way you’re a real pastor.”
He snickered and then turned off the office light before leading the way to the parking lot.
Lauren had so many notions of what Nyair might be like, but when the sounds of Kendrick Lamar beat through the speakers as soon as he started the car, she knew she might as well dispel them all. Whatever she thought he was, he wasn’t. That much was clear. When he lifted his middle console and pulled out a bottle ofSauvage, spraying it on his wrists before pulling away, she rolled her eyes right out the window because he was moving more like a made man. There was something about a man that commanded a room, a man that yielded power and respect without trying. It didn’t matter if the power came from the pulpit or the streets. Power was power, and Lauren felt the familiar essence of inferiority in his presence. It was like she felt like she had to prove her worth…earn her spot…devote her loyalty. At least that’s what she had felt obliged to do with Demi. She had spent yearstrying to prove her worth to a man with power. The insecurity that sprouted within her, the anxiety that dug a hole in the center of her chest, making it hard to breathe in his space. All the signs were there. His aura was greater than hers. It intimidated her. No matter how successful she was, the power of a man was undeniably stronger.
