there when Matthew wrote that book of the Bible?”
Before Rachel was even finished, Jasmine’s smile was gone.
Rachel kept on, “How old are you anyway?” Before Jasmine could answer, Rachel continued, “Never mind. No one should ever ask an old woman her age.” She chuckled just as bit as Jasmine fumed. “Just tell me this. If I were to add my age and Mary’s age together, would we come close to how old you are?”
Not a beat passed before Jasmine said, “I don’t know, Rachel . . . do you know how to add?”
Now, Rachel was the one without a smile. “Yes, I can add,” she said with major attitude.
“I’m just askin’ ’cause I know you didn’t graduate from the sixth grade.”
“Yes, I did,” Rachel shouted.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I know you had your first baby when you were ten or eleven . . . or were you twelve?”
Rachel put her palms on the table, pushed herself up, and leaned across it. “You’d better take that back,” she threatened.
But Jasmine did not back down. She moved closer to Rachel so that their faces were just inches apart. “What? You don’t want people to know that you started having sex when you were eight?”
“Oh, my God,” Rachel screamed, looking at the camera. “Cut! Cut! I don’t want her lies on TV!”
“That wasn’t a lie. I was only telling the truth. ’Cause that’s what divas do . . . and I’m done!” Jasmine stood, pirouetted, and then glided out of the restaurant.
Natasia sighed and told Chauncey to turn off the camera.
It didn’t get any better on Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday. After a week on this show, all Natasia could say was that she’d finally found something positive about Jasmine—Jasmine Cox Larson Bush wasn’t nearly as ghetto as Rachel Jackson Adams.
But even with the pettiness and the bickering and the close-call beat downs, it was worth it because of her plan.
It was clear that God was all up in her life the way this had worked out. She’d been so worried about how she would get to see Hosea, and he was in Atlanta with his new church all along. Once she put this in place, Hosea would have to see her, and once she was in his presence, she’d be able to steal a little bit of his time.
But just like with the last plan, Jasmine had torpedoed thisone, even though she had waited until the very last minute to tell her.
“My husband is not part of the deal,” Jasmine had said two days ago when Natasia had finally shared the plan with her.
Natasia had been prepared for that response because while she didn’t like Jasmine, there was one thing she couldn’t deny. They were very much alike, which was probably why Hosea had loved them both. And if Hosea had been her husband, she wouldn’t let any ex-fiancées anywhere near him.
Natasia knew that she’d stand a better chance of seeing Hosea by just walking into his services on Sunday. But she couldn’t do it that way. Her production team needed preparation time. Plus, whether she liked it or not, she needed the approval of the pastor. So, the door to Hosea had to be opened by Jasmine.
But Natasia’s plan was multilayered. Anticipating Jasmine’s reaction, she’d drawn out the big guns.
First, after Friday’s filming, she’d had one of the production assistants ask Jasmine to stay behind, which had almost turned into an ordeal because of Rachel.
“Nobody asked me to stay,” Rachel had pouted. “What do you want with Jasmine? What’re y’all trying to pull here?”
Jasmine had shaken her head, rolled her eyes, and watched as the production assistant had pulled Rachel to the side. Then, the assistant told Rachel the words that Natasia had given her. The assistant whispered, “All I know is that Natasia isn’t happy. That’s why she wants to speak to Jasmine alone.”
From across the room, Natasia had watched a grin fill half of Rachel’s face. She’d jumped up and before she rushed out, Rachel said, “Bye, bye, Jasmine,” with a laugh that let Natasia
Before Rachel was even finished, Jasmine’s smile was gone.
Rachel kept on, “How old are you anyway?” Before Jasmine could answer, Rachel continued, “Never mind. No one should ever ask an old woman her age.” She chuckled just as bit as Jasmine fumed. “Just tell me this. If I were to add my age and Mary’s age together, would we come close to how old you are?”
Not a beat passed before Jasmine said, “I don’t know, Rachel . . . do you know how to add?”
Now, Rachel was the one without a smile. “Yes, I can add,” she said with major attitude.
“I’m just askin’ ’cause I know you didn’t graduate from the sixth grade.”
“Yes, I did,” Rachel shouted.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I know you had your first baby when you were ten or eleven . . . or were you twelve?”
Rachel put her palms on the table, pushed herself up, and leaned across it. “You’d better take that back,” she threatened.
But Jasmine did not back down. She moved closer to Rachel so that their faces were just inches apart. “What? You don’t want people to know that you started having sex when you were eight?”
“Oh, my God,” Rachel screamed, looking at the camera. “Cut! Cut! I don’t want her lies on TV!”
“That wasn’t a lie. I was only telling the truth. ’Cause that’s what divas do . . . and I’m done!” Jasmine stood, pirouetted, and then glided out of the restaurant.
Natasia sighed and told Chauncey to turn off the camera.
It didn’t get any better on Wednesday, Thursday, or Friday. After a week on this show, all Natasia could say was that she’d finally found something positive about Jasmine—Jasmine Cox Larson Bush wasn’t nearly as ghetto as Rachel Jackson Adams.
But even with the pettiness and the bickering and the close-call beat downs, it was worth it because of her plan.
It was clear that God was all up in her life the way this had worked out. She’d been so worried about how she would get to see Hosea, and he was in Atlanta with his new church all along. Once she put this in place, Hosea would have to see her, and once she was in his presence, she’d be able to steal a little bit of his time.
But just like with the last plan, Jasmine had torpedoed thisone, even though she had waited until the very last minute to tell her.
“My husband is not part of the deal,” Jasmine had said two days ago when Natasia had finally shared the plan with her.
Natasia had been prepared for that response because while she didn’t like Jasmine, there was one thing she couldn’t deny. They were very much alike, which was probably why Hosea had loved them both. And if Hosea had been her husband, she wouldn’t let any ex-fiancées anywhere near him.
Natasia knew that she’d stand a better chance of seeing Hosea by just walking into his services on Sunday. But she couldn’t do it that way. Her production team needed preparation time. Plus, whether she liked it or not, she needed the approval of the pastor. So, the door to Hosea had to be opened by Jasmine.
But Natasia’s plan was multilayered. Anticipating Jasmine’s reaction, she’d drawn out the big guns.
First, after Friday’s filming, she’d had one of the production assistants ask Jasmine to stay behind, which had almost turned into an ordeal because of Rachel.
“Nobody asked me to stay,” Rachel had pouted. “What do you want with Jasmine? What’re y’all trying to pull here?”
Jasmine had shaken her head, rolled her eyes, and watched as the production assistant had pulled Rachel to the side. Then, the assistant told Rachel the words that Natasia had given her. The assistant whispered, “All I know is that Natasia isn’t happy. That’s why she wants to speak to Jasmine alone.”
From across the room, Natasia had watched a grin fill half of Rachel’s face. She’d jumped up and before she rushed out, Rachel said, “Bye, bye, Jasmine,” with a laugh that let Natasia
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