One Way or Another (30 page)

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Authors: Rhonda Bowen

BOOK: One Way or Another
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“Miss, your things?”
Adam let her out of his embrace, but kept her hand firmly in his as she retrieved her purse, jacket, and the keys to her motorcycle.
They were about to leave when she remembered Beth. Pulling out of Adam's grasp, she dug into her purse for a business card.
“Can you give this to the woman in holding when she gets let out?” Toni asked. “She said her name was Beth.”
The officer nodded and looked over the card. “I'll put it with her things.”
“What was that about?” Adam asked, slipping an arm around her as they walked out of the precinct.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” she said, snuggling closer to him.
The night air felt cooler and fresher as she walked hand in hand with Adam across the parking lot back to his car.
“So you want to tell me the real reason you're here?” Toni asked, pulling herself up onto the hood of his car. “ 'Cause if you just kissed me like that only to take off to Baltimore again, I'm going to have to hurt you.”
He laughed. “You don't have to worry about that,” he said, leaning back on the neighboring car across from her. “I'm staying here.”
Toni cocked her head to the side. “What happened?”
He looked down for a moment. “Things didn't turn out the way I thought they would.”
Toni bit her lip. “I'm sorry. You know, even though I didn't agree with your decision, I would never wish anything bad for you or the project.”
“I know,” Adam said, nodding. “And the project was great. Things were going well. But I just ...”
Toni didn't speak, but let him find his own words.
“I guess I realized that it wasn't where I was supposed to be,” he said finally, with a sigh.
“How long did it take you to figure it out?” Toni asked gently.
Adam laughed. “About a week. And the rest of the time was just me being stubborn and fighting what I knew God was telling me.
“And then Pastor Reynolds called and told me they still hadn't found a replacement here, and that if I ever changed my mind, I could come back.”
“So was that the only reason?” Toni bit her lip and watched him watch her. “If Pastor Reynolds hadn't offered you your job back, would you still be in Baltimore?”
Adam looked at her for so long Toni felt like she would evaporate under his gaze. When he finally spoke, his eyes never left hers.
“I told them I was leaving before Pastor Reynolds even called.”
Toni felt her heart beat faster. “Why?”
“Well, there was this woman in Atlanta I couldn't get out of my head.” He took a step toward her. “And I realized that it would be pretty difficult for me to be useful if she was all I could think about.”
Her heart was pounding so hard now that she could feel the pulse in her throat and hear the beat echo in her chest.
“It was like I needed to be where she was, almost like we belonged together.” He was standing right in front of her now, his hands resting on the car, on either side of her.
“Must be some special woman.” She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Mercy, he was fine. She had almost forgotten.
“Really special.” He leaned in closer. “Amazing, actually. Beautiful inside and out. One in a million.”
Toni felt the tears brim her eyes and when he brushed his lips against hers gently, she let them roll down her cheeks.
“And I'm absolutely crazy about her.”
She slipped her palms up to cup his face and brushed light kisses over his lips before pulling him into a tight embrace. This man owned her heart and he didn't even know it.
She laughed and wiped the moistness from her face as she let him go.
“Well, I sure am glad Pastor Reynolds held out for you.”
He laughed. “You and me both. I guess he knew it would take me a little while to figure things out. He was right. Just like you and Trey. You can go ahead and say, I told you so.”
“No,” Toni said thoughtfully. “I like the other part better. The part where I'm right. Can you say it again?”
He laughed and let his hands rest on her waist. “You were right, beautiful.”
“You know I don't really care about being right, right?” she asked, resting her arms around his shoulders. “I just don't want you having any more regrets about the decisions you've made. I want you to be happy.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “That's one of the things I love about you.”
Toni beamed. He had said the L word. At least she knew she wasn't the only one thinking about it.
“You know, if a relationship between us is gonna work, you're gonna have to stop getting arrested,” Adam said after a moment. “I can't afford to be posting bond for you every week.”
“I wasn't even doing anything this time, babe, I promise,” Toni protested.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“Seriously, I got pulled over for not having my lights on, and then I find out that I have a bunch of fines from unpaid traffic stuff,” Toni explained to a laughing Adam. “Isn't that crazy? They're locking me up for traffic violations.”
“You gotta try and stay clean, beautiful,” he said, shaking his head. “I got enough to deal with handling the boys; I can't have the cops on my woman too.”
Toni cocked her head to the side. “When did I become your woman?”
“What, you have an objection?” he asked with a grin.
“Nope.” She shook her head. “Not as long as you promise not to run off to some other state and leave me.”
“Deal,” he said, shaking her hand in a mock agreement. Then he pulled her toward him and kissed her again, and Toni was sure that she had walked away with the better end of the bargain.
She knew in her heart she loved this man. She also knew he loved her. God had purposed for them to be together. Despite all their running away—from their pasts, their mistakes, and the pain of losing people they loved—God had still brought them home and there was no place like it.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
ONE WAY OR ANOTHER
 
 
Rhonda Bowen
 
 
About This Guide
 
The suggested questions that follow
are included to enhance your group's
reading of this book.
Discussion Questions
1.
At the start of the novel Toni gets arrested for suspected trespassing in her effort to gain information for her story. Do you think that if the motive is good enough, the ends will justify the means?
2.
Toni clashes with her sister-in-law, Jasmine, because she thinks Jasmine manipulates Trey to get what she wants. But do you think that Toni is sometimes guilty of manipulating her brother in the same way?
3.
Toni felt like no one understood what she went through during the deaths of her parents. This caused her to pull away from the people around her. How do you reach someone who goes through such extreme tragedy?
4.
Toni spent several years not dealing with the death of her parents, and it negatively affected her life. How can unhealed wounds from the past affect the people we are in the present?
5.
Adam kept his criminal past from the boys at Jacob's House, probably thinking it was best for them not to know. How much disclosure should there be between parents/guardians and children about mistakes in the past?
6.
Toni gets upset with Adam because he didn't tell her about his criminal history even though she had told him everything about her past. Do you think she was justified in being upset? What would have been an appropriate stage in their friendship for Adam to reveal his past?
7.
Adam goes back to Baltimore after ten years to serve time for his past crimes as a show of true remorse for what he had done. Do you think it was necessary for him to confess to his crimes and turn himself in to prove his remorse? Shouldn't it be enough that he has changed and no longer follows that pattern of living?
8.
The attraction between Toni and Adam is clear from the first time they meet. Why do you think it took so long for them to get together? Which of the two of them is more to blame for this?
9.
At the end of the novel, Adam tells Toni that she was a big part of the reason he came back to Atlanta. Do you think it was realistic of him to make such a major decision based on his feelings for her, even though they barely knew each other romantically?
Don't miss Rhonda Bowen's
Man Enough For Me
 
Available now from Dafina Books
 
 
Turn the page for an excerpt from
Man Enough For Me ...
Chapter
1
“M
iss, another drink for you.”
She should have known better than to stand by the bar. But it was the only spot in the house where she had a full view of the floor and all the entrances. That was especially important tonight when it was very possible that media might show up. It would be just like them to slip through a side entrance and try to sneak an interview with Truuth without checking with her. Those journalists—she couldn't live with them, but didn't have a career without them.
“You know the drill, Owen,” Jules said to the bartender. He smirked and sent back the drink to a dark guy lounging at the other end of the bar. Although it was just 10:30 p.m., Owen had already returned three unsolicited beverages for Jules, so they were now on a first name basis.
Jules sighed heavily. What was it with these brothers? Couldn't a girl stand alone at a bar in peace? She was used to the attention that her curvy, size eight figure, smooth, caramel-colored skin, and dark, wide eyes usually attracted. But that didn't make it any less annoying. She pushed a lock of her wild, curly, shoulder-length hair behind her ear, and wished for a moment that her five-foot, six-inch frame could be invisible just long enough for her to get her job done.
It was bad enough that these brothers kept shooting her greasy smiles, but if they were going to send her drinks, couldn't they at least find out what she was drinking and send that? Maybe then she could think about entertaining a conversation with one of them.
Then again, maybe not. She knew exactly how their weak game would go, because she had heard it a million times before. She couldn't help but grimace. What she wouldn't give for something new.
She glanced at her watch impatiently, wondering why the MC was taking so long to put Truuth on stage. From what she'd heard, new music night at the Sound Lounge usually wrapped up around midnight. That only gave them an hour to get Truuth up to do his set.
Scanning the room again, she noted that the reviewers from the free entertainment tabloid
EYE Weekly
and the city's monthly culture magazine
Toronto Life
hadn't left yet. In fact they looked pretty at ease as they sipped their drinks and chatted with a couple other patrons. While she was watching them, she saw Baron Levy and his girlfriend slip in through the side entrance.
Baron was a music reporter for
Urbanology,
one of Toronto's popular urban music magazines. When Jules had called him earlier in the week to pitch the event, she hadn't been certain he would show up.
Urbanology
had a habit of ignoring artists who weren't halfway to a Juno or Grammy award. But for some reason, he had turned out to see Truuth, who was still just the opening act for most opening acts. Maybe they were finally beginning to see in him what she had seen all along. Maybe this was a sign of things to come. A small shiver ran up her spine, and she downed the rest of her cranberry juice.
“Can I have another one of these?” Jules asked, shaking her empty glass at Owen.
Owen held up one finger, motioning for Jules to wait, as he finished talking to someone on the phone behind the bar. A few moments later he turned back to Jules and gave her an apologetic look.
“Sorry, Jules, I gotta cut you off,” he said, taking her empty glass and placing it under the counter.
Jules rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Owen. Hurry up already with that drink. It's the only thing keeping me sane right now.”
Owen shook his head.
“No can do, Jules. I have orders from management not to serve you any more beverages.”
Jules scanned Owen's face for a hint of his boyish grin. But the look in his eyes told Jules he was dead serious. Her own eyes widened in surprise.
“You've got to be kidding,” she said. “I am a paying customer. Why can't I order a drink from the bar?”
“Management reserves the right to refuse beverages to any patron if they have reason to believe that said patron is either below the legal drinking age or impaired to the extent that to do so would cause harm to the patron in question or other guests of the establishment,” Owen said in one breath.
“You don't even serve alcohol! I'd have a better chance of getting drunk off the tap water.”
Owen shrugged and began wiping down the bar. “Sorry, Jules. I'm just following orders.”
“From who? You know what, forget that. Let me talk to your manager, 'cause this is—”
“Hey, is everything okay?”
Jules glanced over at a tall, dark guy who had come up beside her at the bar. He wore a look of concern on his handsome features, but Jules was too upset to notice.
“
Someone
told the bartender to cut me off,” Jules said, glaring at Owen.
“Well, maybe they thought you were—” The guy stopped short when Jules turned her fiery eyes on him.
“Never mind,” he said quickly. “What were you drinking?”
Jules folded her arms and shot a nasty look at Owen, who was trying his best to avoid her by acting busy.
“Just cranberry juice.”
Without hesitation, the nameless stranger turned to Owen. “One just cranberry juice, please?”
Owen opened his mouth to protest, but one raised eyebrow from the guy seemed to shut him up fast.
“One cranberry juice coming up,” he said, reaching under the bar for a clean glass and pouring the drink.
A few moments later Jules stole a peek at her intervener out of the corner of her eye as she sipped on her drink. After handing her the glass, he had given her a small smile, and then had gone back to leaning against the bar with not so much as a second look in her direction. They had finally introduced Truuth, and Jules could hear him warming up the audience as he prepared to start his set. But even though she was excited to see him go on, she couldn't help but glance over at the attractive man who had stopped her from making a fool of herself.
“So I feel like I have to talk to you now,” Jules finally said.
He laughed, and Jules couldn't help but notice the dimple in his left cheek.
“You don't have to do anything.” His eyes were still on the stage.
Jules rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yeah, but I'll feel guilty if I don't. Hi, I'm Jules,” she said, turning toward him.
He grasped her outstretched hand, finally turning his gaze toward her. “I'm Germaine.”
Jules breathed in sharply. His eyes were beautiful. They were an intoxicating shade of hazel with tiny golden flecks that seemed to glow like the dim chandelier lights of the lounge. She had to blink several times just to stop herself from staring.
“Uh ... nice to meet you.” She swallowed hard. “Th-thanks again for ...” She motioned to her drink.
“No problem,” he said, smiling. “Are you sure that's only cranberry juice though?” he asked teasingly. “ 'Cause you seem to be stuttering a bit.”
Jules silently thanked God for making her too dark to blush.
“I assure you, it is nothing but cranberry juice,” she said when she recovered. “I don't usually let strangers buy me drinks; it tends to turn them into stalkers.”
Germaine chuckled. “I assure you, Jules, I have no intention of stalking you.”
“And yet you're still here,” Jules said sweetly.
“I am. But if I remember correctly, you were the one who started this conversation.”
“Only because I felt obligated.”
“Well, I can't be responsible for your conscience, now can I,” said Germaine. “But if it gets me a conversation with a beautiful woman, then I can't complain either.”
Jules looked back at the stage, trying in vain to hide the smile that was curling her lips.
Okay. This brother was good.
She glanced back at him, admiring his angular profile, cool, mocha chocolate skin, and six foot something frame.
. . .
and he's not too bad on the eyes either.
The crowd, which was pretty large for a Thursday night, was already on its feet and rocking to Truuth's up-tempo, hip-hop sounding groove. Even the guys from the media, who were always too cool to act like they liked something, were out of their seats. Jules couldn't help but grin in excitement. No matter how many times she watched Truuth perform at a show, she still got goose bumps when she saw how well he could move his audience. It made all the hard work she put into his career more than worth it.
“He's pretty good,” Germaine commented.
“His name is Truuth,” Jules replied. “And he's more than pretty good. He's amazing.”
“Sounds like you have a little crush.”
Jules glanced over at Germaine, who still had his eyes on the stage.
“Only the professional kind. He's my client.”
Now it was his turn to look at her. He was about to say something when Tanya appeared.
“Some guy from
Urbanology
is looking for you. He said he talked to you this week?”
Even though she was speaking to Jules, Tanya's eyes kept shifting across to Germaine. Jules could already see the wheels in her friend's head spinning.
“Thanks, Tanya.”
Jules glanced back at Germaine. He winked at her before turning back to his drink at the bar.
“Who's the eye candy?” Tanya hissed as Jules half dragged her friend across the room toward the table where Baron was sitting.
“That's Germaine.”
“Interesting,” Tanya said, glancing back at him. “Looks like he was feeling you.”
Jules glanced back at Germaine, who was chatting with Owen at the bar, and admitted to herself that this was one time she didn't mind.
 
It was 12:45 a.m. before Jules got the chance to sit down. When she finally sank into the corner booth near the back of the lounge, she immediately slipped off her heels and curled her legs up under her.
She was beat. After arranging and monitoring Truuth's interview with Baron, shuffling him around to the other reporters in the house, and taking requests for digital photos and follow-ups, she was completely drained. Not to mention starving, and craving a cold beverage like nobody's business. She glanced longingly over at the bar, but knew that her feet would never carry her that far.
“What's with you? You look barely alive,” 'Dre said, dropping into the chair across from Jules.
“You have no idea. I would give anything for something cold right now,” Jules said, smiling sweetly up at 'Dre.
“Well, there'll be time for that later.”
Jules tried her best not to roll her eyes. 'Dre was the CEO for Triad Entertainment, the small start-up company that managed Truuth along with a host of other emerging urban gospel music artists. He was sharp as a tack when it came to running the business and working with artists and record labels. But his one-track mind was sometimes too much for Jules to handle.
“I saw that
Urbanology
guy talking to Truuth. Good work on that. I might have to hook you up with some of our other artists.”
“Not for what you pay me,” Jules said, only half-jokingly.
The stipend that Triad paid her was nothing in comparison to the value of the work she did for Truuth. In fact, if it wasn't for her day job at Toronto Grace Hospital, she would have had more than her aching feet to worry about.
But the money didn't bother her. At the end of the day, all she cared about was using her skills to support an artist who was doing something for God. And if one person came to know Christ because he or she read Truuth's story in the paper, or heard him sing in some obscure music café on a Thursday night, then it would be worth it for her.
“Come on, Jules,” 'Dre cajoled. “You know it's all about the vision.”
“Maybe. But that vision of yours better quit booking Truuth for events in the middle of the week. Unlike some people, I gotta get up for work in the morning,” Jules said pointedly.
“I hear you,” 'Dre said, smirking.
“And next time, could you give me more than a couple days' notice on the gigs you set up for Truuth?” Jules continued. “I know you're the boss and all, but it's hard for me to do my job when I don't even know what's going on. I've never even heard of this place before, not to mention I don't even know who's in charge around here. For all I know we're going to get sued for taking photos without a release form.”
'Dre laughed. “Don't worry. No one's getting sued,” he replied. “We've got personal connections with the guy who runs the place. It was a last-minute, easy setup; that's why we didn't bother you with it.”

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