I could make love to this man forever. Ever since I was with Vince back in tenth grade, ten years ago, I'd been searching for an experience like this. It's almost as if he can read my mind. And when he can't, he asks what I want. At first, I was embarrassed by how addicted I was to him. Once I learned the feeling was mutual, I relaxed and let him take my body to paradise.

I've been in and out of relationships, in and out of love. I've had more than my share of men. But Reginald Patten is something special. He really is. Whenever we're together, it's like magic...

"I think I'm in love with you," I said softly after we were done and we were just holding each other in the afterglow.

"I hope you are," he muttered. "If this isn't love, I don't know what is."

"But haven't you been here before? You thought it was the real thing, but you ended up being real disappointed?"

"Well, baby, as in everything love has risks. That's why sometimes you've got to gamble. Putting your heart on the line is never easy. Believe me, I know. I spent three long years trying hard not to fall in love with you."

That was true for me, too. We'd dated for a while back in `93 when we met at a Black Enterpreneurs convention. We were both in the same workshop, "How To Start Your Own Publication", and ended up sharing materials. By the end of the conference, we were sharing a bed. When he went to Kansas to complete his master's in health administration, I broke it off. Long distance relationships are not my style. He was special, though.

We met up again when Roderick and Keya got married last August. The rest, as they say, is history.

He had propped himself up on one elbow and was looking down at me. "Come back, baby. You're drifting away…again."

I shook myself from my train of thought. "I'm still here," I said, leaning up to kiss him. "I was just imagining what it would be like if you were the hero of a romance novel."

"A romance novel?" He laughed.

"I'm thinking about writing one. Not about our relationship, but... I've always wanted to be a writer, and this will be a chance for me to break into it. The market for ethnic romances is growing."

"So what is this? Research?"

"Not really. I'm in love, and that's what I want to write about. Every author writes from experience, but we can also be creative."

He had lowered himself over me. I loved it when he wrapped me up in his arms with nothing between us but our love. "So you're gonna put our business out in the street?"

As he licked the base of my throat, I whimpered. "Ooh... no, I'll at least, ah, use a sss..."

"Use `s'? What is a `s'?"

"Pseu... pseudonym." I wanted all conversation to stop.

"What's that?" he teased.

"I... don't know. I... don't care..."

"Then let's get busy. We got to give you something to write about."

It wasn't until Reg had dropped me off at home the next morning on his way to work that I realized I hadn't asked him for the loan. Damn. After counting all the gift money I'd gotten, I was still a good three hundred dollars short. There was no way I'd be able to get the money so soon, even if I did get a job. I needed to do something, though. Rochelle would probably cuss me out if I asked her to pay the entire rent. She was already paying all of the bills this month.

Before I could think, the phone rang. It was Cherie, calling from her office at In One A Chord Productions in Decatur.

"Hey, girl! You still in town?"

"For the time being. I'm not going on anything but a couple of brief weekend trips until early June. That will give me a chance to catch up on some things that have gotten behind here. You should see my "in" box. Times like this, I miss the old days so much. I can't wait until Sunday... excuse me, could you hold on for a moment?"

An old A Chord song, "Imani", sounded over the speaker. I tapped my fingernails on the fiberglass cover of my desk impatiently, looking out of my bedroom window. None of our flowers had bloomed yet. It was too chilly to be March.

Cherie clicked back on. "Tyler Grisolm from Testimony Records' here an hour early again. I should make him wait. He always does this." She sighed. "This seems to happen every time I want to talk with you. Well, bless the Lord anyway. Why don't we do lunch?"

Do lunch? "Cher, I am not one of your clients. Get rid of that Tyler guy. I'll shoot over there. I made a seafood salad and I'll check to see if my pitas are still good. There's grapes, too. I'll bring it over there. This way you can kick back, relax, and chill. Best of all, it's on me."

"Sounds heavenly. I should be ready about eleven."

When I arrived at eleven, she was still in her meeting with Tyler. Her assistant, Janae Hill, asked me to have a seat and disappeared down the hall. I did, looking around Cherie's outer office. It was done in shades of cream, indigo, and royal purple, first New Philadelphia's Baptist Church's colors and later adopted by the artists that came out of the ministry.

Cherie's office door opened, and I heard her voice.

"...just have to arrange another meeting. We didn't get much accomplished, unfortunately."

A light-skinned, bulky brother in a royal blue silk suit came out of the door first, followed by Cherie. This morning, she was wearing a light gray suit with a pale pink shell. At first, neither of them noticed me.

"Of course. I was under the assumption that Claude would be in attendance."

"He was, but New Philly's Brotherly Love Convention is supposed to be in a week. He called in this morning to let me know he wouldn't be able to make it."

Tyler's mustache twisted with consternation. "When Billy was spearheading the A Chord cartel, he always made Testimony his first priority. I think you don't understand that just like Mr. Mathis agreed verbally to gamble on your Testimony Live!, he can just as easily change his mind without a contract."

"I understand that, Tyler. But there is no way that I am going to sign that contract without prayer, Claude Jackson's tacit agreement and a glance through by my lawyers at Fuller Mitchell Price. In my layman's opinion, I think that Maritime's legal department needs to be ashamed for coming up with something that shoddy."

"You're not in a position to negotiate, Josephine. Do you know how risky this project could be? It could cost my boss in the tens of millions if it fails."

"It's not going to fail," Cherie said sternly. "Good-bye, Tyler. Janae'll be calling Perrin next week to schedule another meeting when Claude is available."

Tyler walked away briskly, clutching his suitcase. Cherie shook her head, then smiled at me.

"I'm ready. Tell you what. Why don't we head downtown to eat? I could use some fresh air."

I wanted to see what Cherie's new ride was like, so we took her brand-new cranberry Mercedes downtown. The minute we popped into the car, she turned on the ignition, then with a slight grin switched on her CD changer.

A man's voice filled the speakers. "For those of you that think that gospel music has gone too far, you think we've gotten too radical with our message, well I got news for ya!" The bass vibrated against our eardrums. "You ain't heard nothing yet! And if you don't know, now you know, glory glory!"

I had to start snapping my fingers. "Who is this?" I asked curiously. "I've never heard it."

"Kirk Franklin and a youth choir called God's Property. He's the brother who did `Why We Sing' and `Melodies from Heaven'. He’s talented, anointed, and probably the bestselling cotemporary gospel artist in history. This is hot off the presses. Like it?"

"Never thought I'd ever say it about a gospel song, but it's the bomb."

I bopped my head to the beat as we pulled out of the garage. The chorus was easy to catch on to. "Makes me clap my hands, makes me wanna dance... stomp! My brother can't you see, I've got the victory... stomp!"

Cherie was singing and cruising down Candler Road, but I was trying my best not to get up out of my seat belt dancing. "G.P. are you with me?" Kirk Franklin and Cherie asked. God's Property and I answered back, "Oh yeah, we having church, we ain't going nowhere!"

"Ooh! That was too fly, girl!" I said as the song was ending and the next came up. "Wait a minute. `My Life Is In Your Hands'... I remember this from the end of Spike Lee's Get On The Bus. That movie was about the Million Man March. I thought you said the church doesn't agree with what the Nation of Islam teaches."

"The movie really didn't have a lot about the Nation in it. It was more about what black men have to go through," Cherie pointed out. "And I thought Spike did an excellent job.

"There's a big controversy in the gospel world about the kind of music some of us do, and the listeners that are being attracted to us. There were some pastors that talked about A Chord for doing Free Indeed, people had a fit when I sang cuts from The Rose and The Lily on a Christian night at a jazz club.

"I already know Kirk is gonna get some flack for this new album. The old guard say we're compromising. But a lot of us younger Christians think that we have to spread the gospel to our generation `by any means necessary'. Jesus told us to go into all the world, because not everybody's going to come into a church. It's time for us to go on the offensive. That's why I'm so passionate about keeping Billy's vision alive for Testimony Live! Contemporary gospel and gospel rap needs an outlet that it doesn't always get in churches and barely ever gets in the secular world. With God’s help, we're going to be that outlet."

"Sounds cool," I said distantly. What did it matter what the song said, as long as the beat was kickin'?

"That brings me to the real reason I called you this morning, Nikki. We're going to be shooting our first live episode on Sunday, June 29th at 4 p.m. in Detroit. We're going to have Fred Hammond and Radical for Christ as our first featured guests. Janae just told me that she won't be able to travel with us... would you like to come in her place? The ministry'll pay all your expenses, and you'll be able to see Mama Ferguson. So what do you say?"

I knew that Cherie was trying her best to get me saved, but at the prospect of a free trip home, I agreed to go. I missed Michigan and it wasn't like I could afford to go often.

All the rest of the way to Centennial Park, I enjoyed the Kirk Franklin CD. They were tremendous! At least, for a gospel group.

We found a spot in Centennial Park, the beautiful ex-Olympic venue and the infamous spot of the bombing. We spread an afghan Cherie kept in her car (the Michigander coming out in her), and chilled. Cherie teased me about my seafood salad.

"I never thought you'd learn how to cook, Nikki. That was delicious. Was it an accident?"

"Very funny. No, when you moved out it was either fend for myself or starve. Rochelle can throw down, but she's stingy. Only person she'll cook for is Q..." I broke off. "Sorry, girlfriend."

"Girl, you’re straight," she shrugged. "How is he doing?"

"According to Rochelle, pretty good. He'll be getting his master's degree in art education next month, but he's still working at Nocturne for his father."

"I didn’t know that. Mr. Mathis still owns our record label, though."

That was a surprise to me. Q's father didn't seem like the type that would invest in gospel music. "You're kidding. He's a Christian?"

"He's a businessman. Testimony is making most of his money. His other labels specialize in blues, jazz, and new jack swing R&B. He has some pretty successful artists on Heartstrings Records, like Dalonda, Easy Street, and Xstasy, and jazz fans love what Nocturne has to offer.

"But Tyler and Senghor Grisolm have turned Testimony into a powerhouse. By itself, In One A Chord Productions have given them a slew of succesful Christian artists: A Chord, Kevin Jarreau and the Love Everlasting Orchestra, David Battle, Joel & Dominique Battle, Higher Inspiration, Selah, and myself. We all came out of one ministry, and together we've sold eight million records worldwide in less than five years." She clucked the statistics off her tongue as if it were second nature. "That's why he's willing to invest in Testimony Live! He thinks it’s a gamble. But we’re standing on Romans 8. `If God be for us, who can be against us?’"

Cherie was really excited about the work she did, and her enthusiasm for it showed in her voice. It was all so foreign to me that it was interesting. "What is the show going to be like?"

"An hour-long praise and testimony service, nineties style. Claude and I were selected to host it. A Chord will provide backup for the praise and worship segments, and we’ll put captions on the screen so that the viewer’ll have the words just like they do in church. Then we’ll cut to an another studio, where either Claude or I will be interviewing someone who will be sharing their testimony of how they came to Christ. And I’m trying to set up something with Hallel, which is a praise dance troupe…"

"What about Kirk?"

She looked at me, then laughed. "I’ll see what I can do. Anyway, BCN was happy to sell the time to us, because usually they show infomercials then. They purchased twenty shows from us, and they'll decide if they want more at the end of the year. Although Tyler was trying to get me to sign some shady contract that was only for six weeks this morning..."

She got quiet as a woman pushing a stroller hurried towards us. "Excuse me, miss, but aren't you Josephine Petion?"

Cherie smiled and removed her sunglasses. "Yes, ma'am. How are you doing today?"

"Oh, I'm blessed. I can't believe I'm meeting you in person! I've bought all of A Chord's records... and I thought The Rose and the Lily was excellent. You are truly anointed."

"Well, bless God. I'm glad that our music ministers to you," Cherie said quietly.

"Oh, it does, it does. Just keep on glorifying the Lord! Our choir director told us about the show on BCN, and we're looking forward to watching it. When is your next album coming out?"

Her baby started crying. She was a beautiful little girl, no more than six months, with a soft cloud of jet black hair and gentle brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," the woman said, lifting the infant from the stroller to pick her up. The child instantly calmed down as the woman kissed her, asking her `whatsa matter'?

Never minding that I was being ignored, I looked at Cherie. Her eyes were filled with longing as she asked, "Is that your baby?"

"Yes. My little Jewel. Do you have any children, Miss Petion?"

Cherie closed her eyes briefly. "No."

"That's right, I remember reading in Gospel Today that you were single. I hope God will bless you with a husband soon."

"In due season," she replied quietly. "Right now, I'm young, and delighting myself in the Lord."

"There is no greater love than His," the woman agreed, strapping the now-sleeping Jewel back into her seat and pulling a CD booklet out of her baby's bag. It was Cherie's album. "May I please have your autograph?"

This happened almost every time Cherie and I went out. I tamped down a quick pang of envy. Although I admire what she does, I wouldn't want to do it.

Cherie turned to her picture. She was standing in a garden full of scarlet red roses and pristine white lilies. She scribbled her initials, the date and "Revelation 22:9" under it and handed it back to the woman.

"Thank you so much. You have a blessed day, and I will be praying for you."

Cherie nodded. "God bless you, my sister." Her eyes followed the baby's stroller as the woman left. "The name would have to be Jewel," she muttered.

"What was that stuff about Revelation?" I asked curiously.

"Oh, it's a Scripture that basically lets people know that God alone deserves worship. I don't mind signing autographs, but Jesus alone deserves all praise." She got very quiet.

"Jewel... that was what he was going to call the baby, wasn't it?" Hey, maybe it was a tactless thing to say. But I speak my mind. That's the only way you'll ever learn anything.

She nodded, then quickly changed the subject. "So, how's everything been going with you? I didn't mean to take over the conversation."

"Oh, nothing much. Still looking for a job."

"I've been keeping my eyes and ears open. If anything turns up, I'll let you know." She took off the Scunci clip and let her straight, thick black hair fall. "I think I want to cut it again. When would be a good time for you?"

At first I started to tell her I had something else to do. Cherie’s still cool and all, but if you talk to her for a long period of time God will definitely comes up as a topic of conversation. I didn't want to hear a sermon. But I wanted to spend more time with her. It was so rare that we just got a chance to talk these days...

"How about this evening? Reg has to work late, so he won't be over until after nine. Come over after work."

"I will," she promised.

Continued...

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