last month?”
What? Jasmine almost said aloud. Had she picked a real magazine who had talked to Reverend Bush already? “Ah…yes…in a way…this…is a follow-up,” she stuttered. “I didn’t do the interview last month, but my colleague has asked me to check a few details.”
“That’ll be fine,” Mrs. Whittingham said as if Jasmine was her best friend. “When do you want to come in?”
“Ah…I’m working under a deadline and I was wondering if Reverend Bush had any evenings available this week?”
“Evenings?”
“Yes,” Jasmine said quickly, hoping to erase the frown in Mrs. Whittingham’s voice. “I want to interview the reverend by telephone, but I want to do it at a time when he isn’t so likely to be interrupted.” For good measure, she added, “You know what I mean, sugah?”
“That makes sense.” Mrs. Whittingham’s smile was back.
“I know how important Reverend Bush is and I know it’s hard for him to make this kind of time during the day. So, when would be a good evening for me to call?”
“Can you hold?”
“Sure.” Jasmine held her breath, counting the seconds.
“Well, you are blessed today. If you can call him tonight, Reverend Bush will be here in the office. He has a meeting that should end around seven-thirty. But by eight, everyone should be gone.”
Jasmine had to force herself not to leap from her seat. “Do you think he’ll wait there in the office for me? I mean wait for me to call?”
“Definitely. I just told him and I’ll leave a reminder. Just call between eight and eight-thirty.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest thing. I don’t know how to thank you!”
“You’re more than welcome. We love your magazine and the way you bring news to the Christian community.”
“We certainly try. You know what I’m going to do for you, Mrs. Whittingham? I’m going to get you a subscription to our magazine, free, of course.”
“We get it here at the church, but I would love my own copy.” She gave Jasmine her home address and thanked her again. “By the way, one last thing…ah, I apologize, what’s your name again?”
Jasmine frowned. “Kyla.”
“And your number, Kyla?”
She only had a second to think before she rattled off her cell number.
Jasmine hung up feeling smarter than most people, but she didn’t spend too much time savoring this victory. She called the rental car company and arranged for the car to be driven to her.
The next hours were filled with shuffling papers and thoughts of tonight. It would only take this one time. She’d be charming, he’d be smitten. They’d be together.
Just after seven-thirty, Jasmine picked up her purse, and the envelope and folder she’d prepared, then turned off the light in her office. As she pressed the Lower Level button on the elevator, she thought about how someday she’d tell Reverend Bush just what she’d gone through for the two of them to be together.
Jasmine maneuvered into the church’s parking lot. As expected, the lot was empty—except for a green Land Rover and a white Impala. Jasmine grimaced. She’d only expected to see one car. But then she shook her concern away. Even if the car belonged to Mrs. Whittingham, there would be nothing she could do to mess up her plan.
Jasmine turned off the car, looked around the parking lot, then lifted the envelope from the passenger seat. She pulled the knife from the packet, and wondered for a moment if she’d need a larger one.
When she stepped out, her eyes scanned the lot once more before she knelt down and with a quick jab, stabbed the tire, then twisted the knife before she pulled it away. Within seconds, the air fizzled, and the tire began to shrink. She waited a few minutes more, then returned the knife to the envelope, reached into the car for the folder, and rushed to the church.
She was surprised when the door was locked; she rang the bell.
“Jasmine?” Reverend Bush said as he opened the door.
She was pleased—even in
What? Jasmine almost said aloud. Had she picked a real magazine who had talked to Reverend Bush already? “Ah…yes…in a way…this…is a follow-up,” she stuttered. “I didn’t do the interview last month, but my colleague has asked me to check a few details.”
“That’ll be fine,” Mrs. Whittingham said as if Jasmine was her best friend. “When do you want to come in?”
“Ah…I’m working under a deadline and I was wondering if Reverend Bush had any evenings available this week?”
“Evenings?”
“Yes,” Jasmine said quickly, hoping to erase the frown in Mrs. Whittingham’s voice. “I want to interview the reverend by telephone, but I want to do it at a time when he isn’t so likely to be interrupted.” For good measure, she added, “You know what I mean, sugah?”
“That makes sense.” Mrs. Whittingham’s smile was back.
“I know how important Reverend Bush is and I know it’s hard for him to make this kind of time during the day. So, when would be a good evening for me to call?”
“Can you hold?”
“Sure.” Jasmine held her breath, counting the seconds.
“Well, you are blessed today. If you can call him tonight, Reverend Bush will be here in the office. He has a meeting that should end around seven-thirty. But by eight, everyone should be gone.”
Jasmine had to force herself not to leap from her seat. “Do you think he’ll wait there in the office for me? I mean wait for me to call?”
“Definitely. I just told him and I’ll leave a reminder. Just call between eight and eight-thirty.”
“Aren’t you the sweetest thing. I don’t know how to thank you!”
“You’re more than welcome. We love your magazine and the way you bring news to the Christian community.”
“We certainly try. You know what I’m going to do for you, Mrs. Whittingham? I’m going to get you a subscription to our magazine, free, of course.”
“We get it here at the church, but I would love my own copy.” She gave Jasmine her home address and thanked her again. “By the way, one last thing…ah, I apologize, what’s your name again?”
Jasmine frowned. “Kyla.”
“And your number, Kyla?”
She only had a second to think before she rattled off her cell number.
Jasmine hung up feeling smarter than most people, but she didn’t spend too much time savoring this victory. She called the rental car company and arranged for the car to be driven to her.
The next hours were filled with shuffling papers and thoughts of tonight. It would only take this one time. She’d be charming, he’d be smitten. They’d be together.
Just after seven-thirty, Jasmine picked up her purse, and the envelope and folder she’d prepared, then turned off the light in her office. As she pressed the Lower Level button on the elevator, she thought about how someday she’d tell Reverend Bush just what she’d gone through for the two of them to be together.
Jasmine maneuvered into the church’s parking lot. As expected, the lot was empty—except for a green Land Rover and a white Impala. Jasmine grimaced. She’d only expected to see one car. But then she shook her concern away. Even if the car belonged to Mrs. Whittingham, there would be nothing she could do to mess up her plan.
Jasmine turned off the car, looked around the parking lot, then lifted the envelope from the passenger seat. She pulled the knife from the packet, and wondered for a moment if she’d need a larger one.
When she stepped out, her eyes scanned the lot once more before she knelt down and with a quick jab, stabbed the tire, then twisted the knife before she pulled it away. Within seconds, the air fizzled, and the tire began to shrink. She waited a few minutes more, then returned the knife to the envelope, reached into the car for the folder, and rushed to the church.
She was surprised when the door was locked; she rang the bell.
“Jasmine?” Reverend Bush said as he opened the door.
She was pleased—even in
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