Back to Me by Wanda B. Campbell Page A

traveling around the city, showing property. The church had the reputation of being a church for all people. According to her clients who attended the church, the senior pastors, Reginald and Julia Pennington, were practical teachers and were down to earth, teaching the gospel without imposing man-made regulations. The campus sat on two acres of land and housed a community center, which served Oakland’s down-and-out and up-and-comers.
    â€œJust what I thought,” Paige mumbled once she turned into the parking lot.
    The crowd walking into the building was wayward at best in her opinion. She didn’t necessarily believe one had to wear rhinestone-decorated suits and pinstripes to attend church, but jeans, sneakers, and flip-flops? The shoes were a common sight even in cold weather, but not at church. On a Sunday morning? And uncovered tattoos? Her church, Restoration Ministries, didn’t have an official dress code policy, but most congregants dressed conservatively of their own accord. These people couldn’t be serious about walking with the Lord.
    â€œNo wonder they have such a large membership,” she said to herself. “Anything and everything is allowed up in here. I bet the pastor wears jeans and a hoodie.” She shook her head in disgust before focusing on looking for a parking space.
    A waving fluorescent stick caught her attention and directed her to an empty space right next to Sergio-Xavier’s car. What are the odds of this happening? she wondered. Her hand had barely touched the door handle before Sergio-Xavier opened the car door for her.
    â€œI knew you would come with your saint-o-meter,” he told her. “That’s why I gave the attendants your car’s make and model and had them save you a space.”
    She didn’t bother asking why the attendants would honor his request. He was wearing not only a blue tailored suit, but also that cocky smile she hated, which was outlined by a neatly trimmed mustache. The woodsy scent emanating from him arrested her the second he opened the door. She caught herself just before she was about to yield to the urge to close her eyes and savor the fragrance. She was saved and sanctified. She couldn’t be seen lusting in the church’s parking lot with a client. She ignored his outstretched hand and stepped from the car.
    â€œLook, I received a great Word this morning from Pastor Drake, and I am not going to allow the devil to spoil my day.”
    â€œAre you calling me the devil?”
    â€œYou’re not the devil, but you could certainly get me into trouble.”
    He laughed in her face. “I doubt that,” he said, then once again extended his hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside. You need all the church you can get.”
    She sneered but accepted his hand. Paige was about to ask why his hands were so smooth, but then she remembered he was physician. As they neared the entrance, Paige slowed her pace. Compared to the casual attire most of the congregants wore, she was overdressed in a calf-length skirt and blazer. With her white-collared blouse buttoned to the top, the only skin Paige showed was her hands and face.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked with more concern than the situation warranted.
    â€œI’m fine, but I feel out of place,” she admitted.
    â€œWhy? Because you have on that ‘Take me to the water’ outfit?”
    Paige gasped.
    â€œDon’t worry. No one will mistake you for a saint, because it’s a known fact that a long skirt can come up just as fast as a miniskirt.”
    â€œHow dare you say that to me!” She struggled to free her hand, but it was useless. The soft hand she had admired moments earlier now felt like a metal bracelet.
    â€œWill you calm down?” he said, leaning into her ear. “You’re causing a scene. I said that only to prove a point.”
    â€œAnd your point would be?” she snarled through clenched