Can I Get an Amen JANICE SIMS • KIM LOUISE • NATALIE DUNBAR • NATHASHA BROOKS-HARRIS CONTENTS A LOVE SUPREME Janice Sims Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine LOVE AND HAPPINESS Kim Louise Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve A LOVE LIKE THAT Natalie Dunbar Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine LOVE UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT Nathasha Brooks-Harris Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine COMING NEXT MONTH A Love Supreme Janice Sims Dedication This story is dedicated to the memory of J.Z. Sims, Isaac Hammond, Frank Long, and James Jones, all of my father figures whom I miss every day. Acknowledgments My sincerest thanks, and big hugs, to Leslie Esdaile and Nathasha Brooks-Harris who e-mailed me in December of 2003 and offered me an early Christmas gift, the chance to write a story for this anthology. Thanks also to my editor, Demetria Lucas, for signing me on. I’ve enjoyed working with you very much! You awakened desires that had lain dormant too long Made my heart sing a whole new song It became clear that, for you, I’d go to any extreme God had granted us a love supreme. The Book of Counted Joys One J ared Kyles opened the sliding-glass door and stepped onto the patio of his new home in Red Oaks, Georgia. It was a beautiful May morning, and the sweet smell of wild jasmine was in the air. The temperature was cool. The dogwood trees were in full bloom. Fallen pink and white petals covered the ground around them. He inhaled the heady fragrance of good, clean, fresh air as he stood there wondering which of the six burly black men presently removing huge squares of old sod from the lawn was Alex Cartwright. A big hand brought the coffee cup to his lips. He frowned as he sipped thoughtfully. The man was here, wasn’t he? He lowered his gaze to his watch. It was nine o’clock, and Cartwright, whom he’d hired over the phone, sight unseen, hadn’t come up and introduced himself yet. Cartwright’s secretary had promised he would show him the blueprints that had been drawn up for the final layout of the yard before the work progressed too far. Jared didn’t like to be kept waiting. Time was money. This was the last time he would hire someone based solely on the opinions of others. When he’d sent out feelers to various colleagues in the construction business in Macon, they’d all concurred: Alex Cartwright was the best to use when it came to landscaping, a consummate professional. Looking at the vigor with which Cartwright’s men performed their duties, Jared had to admit one thing: Cartwright knew how to pick dependable workers. He placed his cup on the only piece of furniture on the patio: a deep green, molded plastic chair which could be bought at any discount store. He made a mental note to buy patio furniture, and then he turned and walked up to the man closest to him. “Excuse me, would you tell me which of these fellas is Alex Cartwright?” The guy, who was at least six-four, over two-hundred pounds, with skin so dark it gleamed, ran a hand over his bald head before saying, “Good morning!” His grin was wide and white. The first image that flashed into Jared’s mind was that of a black Mr. Clean. All the guy needed was a single gold hoop earring in his left earlobe. “Good morning,” Jared said, smiling back. People in small towns rarely forgot their manners. His mother would be disappointed that he’d forgotten his. “Alex ain’t here yet,” the bald man told him. “She went to pick up her brother, Sam, at the airport. He plays basketball for the University of Florida.” She? Jared thought but didn’t voice his surprise. The guy saw it on his face. “Don’t worry, man,” he said with a short laugh. “She does the work of two men.” Jared laughed too, but it irked him that Alex Cartwright had misrepresented herself to him. Or had she? None of the men who’d recommended her had thought to mention her sex. They must be having a good laugh at his expense right about now! Then again, perhaps her gender had not mattered to them, just the fact that she was good at what she did for a living. He put his sexist tendencies in check and offered his hand to the guy. “Jared Kyles.” “Ruben Jackson,” the black Mr. Clean said, with a firm handshake. “I’m the foreman. Alex told us to get started on removing the old sod, and by the time that was done, she’d be here to supervise the landscaping.” Jared nodded. “All right, Mr. Jackson, you fellas seem to have everything under control. Tell Ms. Cartwright she can knock on the patio door when she arrives.” “Will do,” Ruben said, and promptly returned to his work.