Page 24 of Evan
“I won’t. I like him a lot. I have spent the entire four days looking forward to tonight. It’s not just the chance of meeting a man who has been my hero for a long time. It’s being with Evan, talking to him, arguing with him and his beliefs.” She shook her head. “Ishould be witnessing to him, telling him about the love of God, leading him to…”
“Or you should relax and go with the flow.”
Her eyes flared. “What does that mean? If he invites me to his fancy apartment, I should just go with him?”
“Honey, you happen to be the most responsible person I know.” Taking her hands, Marsha stared at her. “What’s really bothering you?”
“All my life, I have been determined to be good. When dad died and mom married that man, I was so unhappy, and I prayed that God would do something about it. When they died, I blamed myself and wondered if I had inadvertently caused the accident.
Did I wish for it too hard?” She shrugged. “I know that’s silly, and we have been told that things happen for a reason. When Pastor and his wife took me in, I swore to myself that I wouldnever do anything to disappoint them, that I was going to make them proud.”
“And you did. You made something of yourself despite the difficulties you had as a child. People admire you and want to be you. Nothing is wrong with you being attracted to someone who is not of the faith.”
“There are some very nice and unattached males in the church.”
“There are, but I always knew you were going to end up with someone extraordinary.” Marsha shook her slightly. “Go to this gallery opening, forget about everything else and just have fun. You obviously like the guy, and I am not saying you should let go of your Christian principles, but you deserve to have some fun.”
“I am scared.” She whispered.
“Of what?”
“I really like him, Marsh. From the very first day I met him, there has been this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I have tried praying and asking the Lord for direction, but I am not hearing back from him, in regard to this topic.”
“Which simply means that the Lord is not displeased. Who knows what He has planned for you and Evan Davenport.”
Chapter 7
Cassandra had seen glossy photos of the gallery both on the internet and in some gossip magazine she had leafing through while at the dentist just the other day. But nothing prepared her for the loftiness of the building. Nor had she fully recovered from her first sight of Evan when he picked her up from the cottage.
His silver eyes had wandered over her from head to the toes of her fashionable stilettoes, back to her face, his expression showing his appreciation of the effort she had put into her appearance.
“What is it called?” He had not commented on her appearance until they were inside his maroon BMW, the seat so soft, it molded itself to her body.
“Pardon?” Turning her head, she gave him a startled look, which he returned, his expression inscrutable.
“Your hair.” He nodded to the tumble of curls reaching her shoulders.
“Oh.” Her hand flew to her hair as if she had forgotten what she had done to it. “My hair is natural, so I used something to make it this curly. I hardly ever wear it loose because it takes time and effort.”
“I like it.’ His voice was gruff, earning him another speculative look. “It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
Afterwards, they spent the remainder of the journey in relative silence.
A valet had taken his keys as soon as he turned into the arched gateway of the private building that was in the middle of the uptown area.
They were met at the door by a waitstaff who handed them glasses of champagne. Cassandra always told herself that she would never allow herself to be dazzled by people or things of the world. She lived a simple life. S
he loved R&B music and was a fan of several artists, her favorite being Luther Vandross. She had been to several of his concerts and managed to contain herself and her reaction to seeing him in person, by not screaming his name as soon as he came on stage.
She had seen several artists, models, and actors when she and Marsha took a trip to LA and had to remind herself that they were people too, with real life problems.
But tonight, as she stepped into the large room with the soaring ceiling, the glittering chandeliers, with people from a society she had only read about with the avid interest of ‘an average person’, she could not help her automatic reaction.
Nor could she escape the looks of interest thrown their way as they entered the room. He hadn’t touched her at all, but she was so acutely aware of his presence, his lofty height, the scent of his cologne, that he might as well be holding her hand.
She was also aware that he was mostly silent, which meant what exactly? She wondered. Before she had time to dwell on it, she was swept up with the image of vibrant colors, not only from thepaintings, but also from the women wearing expensive gowns and dazzling jewelry.