Guilt Trip Read online

  ENDORSEMENTS FOR PAT SIMMONS

  Simmons shines in this godly romance. This avid reader was overwhelmed by the compassionate writing and Scriptures that spoke to my soul. There were points that I identified with each character that led me to further investigate other Scriptures. She uses family history, murder, prison, and postpartum depression along with Scriptures to show God’s ultimate sacrifice and constant forgiveness of sins. The character development and storyline pace will have you mesmerized as two families face their demons. Crowning Glory is a masterpiece of Christian romance which is definitely a MUST read.

  —MONIQUE “DELTAREVIEWER” BRUNER

  Talk to Me is a great book! I am an avid reader and Talk to Me is one of the best I’ve ever read. I found myself laughing out loud—sign of a good book—grinning from ear to ear, and then saying “no she did not”! Once I started reading, I couldn’t put the book down. The storyline was intriguing and the characters were well developed. I finished it in two days! You definitely will not be disappointed. Pat Simmons is certainly gifted to write a good story! Thanks, Pat, for sharing your talent with the world!

  —LESLIE HUDSON, BALTIMORE, MD

  Guilty of Love by Pat Simmons was my first experience with Christian fiction and I must admit that I truly enjoyed reading this novel. I thought that Ms. Simmons did an excellent job of inserting the character’s spirituality into the dialog in such a natural manner that didn’t come across as being preachy and she was also able to interlace a multitude of rich African American history in the process. I felt each and every emotion of the heroine and it touched me deeply within. This story centered on a very difficult, heartbreaking issue, and how Cheney dealt with it came across so incredibly real to me. It was astonishing to find such strong characters in a novel, even with the weaknesses evolved from their past experiences. I advise the reader to keep a big box of tissues handy because you will need them on numerous occasions. Thanks go to Ms. Simmons for a truly inspirational story.

  —NIKITA, REVIEWED FOR JOYFULLY REVIEWED

  The author provides great lessons for someone going through any aspect of their life in terms of health, relationships, bearing children, and family values. She truly deserves an encore for Not Guilty of Love as she distinctively uses faith as her theme for the book. I look forward to the continuation she has in store!

  —EKG LITERARY MAGAZINE

  Still Guilty was a really good and powerful story. Pat Simmons brought it to the line. As I read this book, it was just what I needed. I was going through my own personal struggles and all of the Scriptures that Cheney and Parke recited I jotted down for my own personal use. I have told SO many readers about this series and I’m looking forward to reading more books by Pat Simmons!

  —CARMEN FOR OOSA ONLINE BOOK CLUB

  I felt as if I was part of this story. I found my self wanting to help the characters. I loved Still Guilty. I want to read other books by this author. She is a talented author. LOVED IT!

  —READERS’ FAVORITE “BOOK REVIEWS AND AWARD CONTEST”

  PAT SIMMONS

  the

  guilt trip

  THE JAMIESON LEGACY

  MOODY PUBLISHERS

  CHICAGO

  © 2012 by

  PAT SIMMONS

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.

  Edited by Kathryn Hall

  Interior design: Ragont Design

  Cover design: Faceout Studio

  Cover image: iStock (3978395, 8114650, and 17790482) and Shutterstock (60166576)

  Author photo: Naum Furman

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Simmons, Pat.

  The guilt trip / Pat Simmons.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-0-8024-0380-3 (alk. paper)

  1. Man-woman relationships—Fiction. 2. African Americans--Fiction. 3. Guilt—Fiction. 4. Domestic fiction. I. Title.

  PS3619.I56125G84 2012

  813’.6—dc23

  2012010381

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Printed in the United States of America.

  In memory of Lorna “Mom” Robnett for seeing my gifts before I knew I possessed them.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Epilogue

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Twenty-eight-year-old Aaron “Ace” Jamieson wasn’t married and never had been married. In fact, he wasn’t planning to pick out a tuxedo and meet a woman at the altar any time soon. To maintain that resolve, Ace displayed the highest level of professionalism when it came to playing the dating game. Early on, his buddies taught him that it’s around the three-month mark when a woman begins to fantasize about permanent residency. Therefore, he set a personal benchmark for seventy-two days or less. To maintain his integrity while enjoying the ride, Ace was always upfront with the ladies. He was careful to let them know that he wasn’t looking for anything serious.

  Standing in the mirror, he snickered while shaving, as he recalled some of the tactics women used to trap him into marriage: lavish gifts, on-demand intimacy, or claiming to carry his love child.

  He shook his head in disgust, rinsed off his razor, and methodically massaged aftershave on his face and throat. Women’s bluffs didn’t make him blink. He would not be lured into any baby mama drama.

  But something had happened to his determination several months ago. Lois, a friend of his cousin Cameron, introduced him to the one and only, alluring, Ms. Talise Rogers. She swept him off his feet on the first date. Immediately, Ace was fascinated by her independence and self-confidence. He was mesmerized by her exotic dark features, which were gently caressed by her flawless brown-sugar skin.

  “Humph!” Ace l
et out an affirming expression. If that were not enough, he had to admit their connection was far more than the usual explosive physical attraction. If there was ever a soul mate, Talise was it.

  To Ace, she’s his Tay. He was convinced she had an invisible grip on him that was about to bring him down—and he wasn’t complaining. It took some back-and-forth battling between his mind and his heart, but Ace thought Talise just might be the one he couldn’t let get away.

  Genuine, honest, and gorgeous is how he would describe her. When she surpassed the one-hundred-day mark, Ace stopped counting. “I’m actually losing my mind over this woman,” he mumbled to himself and continued dressing. It was Friday and he was about to pick her up for a night out on the town.

  Bobbing his head, Ace slipped his feet into his shoes. Yep, he thought. A man would be a fool to let her go. He grinned when he thought about their intimacy. It was so full of fire, Ace couldn’t even comment about it.

  As a matter of fact, before the night ended, he was going to have an out-of-body experience and do something he had never before contemplated: profess that his feelings for her were beyond a mere physical appeal.

  Talise was the sole reason why Ace had repeatedly turned down his brother’s offer to relocate to St. Louis. Of course, he couldn’t tell Kevin, or Kidd, as he was called, that his decision was based on a woman. Despite Kidd’s company having two openings in the local area, if his big brother had seen Talise, he would understand Ace’s reluctance to be uprooted.

  Ace swiped his car keys off the nightstand and jogged down the stairs to the first floor of the condo he shared with his mother in the Hyde Parke neighborhood of Boston.

  Sandra Nicholson paused from watching her favorite television show. She glanced over her shoulder and lifted a brow. As youthful and attractive as she was, in Ace’s eyes, his mother might as well be eighty years old. All she ever did was go to work, go to church, and return home from either destination.

  “Hmm. You look exceptionally handsome tonight. Are you still going out with that Tanya, Tia, Tor—young lady?”

  “Ma, just call her Tay.”

  “I knew it began with a ‘T.’” Pointing the remote at the flat screen TV, Sandra muted the sound. She smiled, showing off the same left cheek dimple that Ace inherited.

  “Five months with the same woman. When am I going to meet her?” His mother’s eyes danced with mischief. “All I can get out of you is her name.”

  “Which you can’t remember. I guess that’s why they sent you an AARP card,” he teased. Her playful eyes squinted to instill fear. It didn’t work. “And it’s been four months,” he corrected.

  “I would like to meet Tay.”

  That’s not happening any time soon. I need to figure out how to define our relationship first. He chuckled. “Good night, Momma Nosy.”

  Stepping to the sofa, he leaned over and brushed a kiss against her cheek, then sauntered out the door. That was another first with Ace; he never divulged the names of his conquests. It would mean there was some form of emotional attachment.

  Getting behind the wheel of his Dodge Charger, Ace grinned in anticipation of what Talise had up her sleeve for the evening. Each week, they took turns planning their Friday night activities. He was sure he would be pleasantly surprised.

  A half an hour later, he parked in front of her brownstone. Ace checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. His mustache was perfectly trimmed and his jaws were baby bottom soft after his shave. His skin would have been totally unblemished if it wasn’t for the mark on his nose. It was a reminder of the first and last fight he lost. His brother made sure of that.

  Next, he rubbed the tamed waves in his hair. Ace still missed his long, thick ponytail that he relinquished when he accepted the job at Healthcare Concepts two years earlier. He had no choice.

  Long ago, his mother told him and his brother something Ace always remembered. She said, once they were legally old enough to get a job, if a man didn’t work, he wouldn’t eat at her house. He and Kidd never wanted to test her on that rule.

  Getting out of the car, he glanced up at the third-floor bay window. There she was, watching him. Talise waved then disappeared to come downstairs and let him inside the building. Ace swaggered from the sidewalk to the entrance.

  In record time, Talise opened the massive, tall wooden door. Ace’s heart crashed against his chest at her glamour. He had dated many women with model looks and figures, but Talise would reign as the top model for years to come.

  She had long legs that could stop traffic. A silver dress gracefully hugged her curves. Beaded straps started at her polished toes and continued to wrap upward, stopping at her ankles. Despite her five-eight height, she confidently commanded her stilettos.

  Ace whistled. Then his nostrils flared, as he gasped for more oxygen. But that didn’t stop his assessment. Talise’s hair was naturally long—inches past her shoulders—and it was always glossy, whether hanging straight or in curls. The best thing about it—it was all her hair. She was born with it. He had nothing against hair extensions, except when they looked like hair extensions.

  She was a portrait of loveliness with her dark lashes, silky brows, and big, brown doe-shaped eyes. These were just some of her points of overall perfection and his general state of weakness. Yeah, he liked how all of her features—from head to toe—accented her fine, brown frame.

  “Hey, baby,” Ace cooed, as he stepped closer to her.

  Talise’s response was to leap into his arms with the force of a hurricane. Her strength would have rocked a man who was unsteady on his feet. But not Ace, he stood at six-three and tipped the scales at 220 pounds.

  His buffed body was able to absorb the impact while their embrace lingered, and then she weakened him with her kisses. Ace didn’t know who started the seduction, but he wasn’t pleased when she regained composure and left him begging for more. He stared at his woman through hooded lashes and watched the longing flash across her face. To his chagrin, a smile chased the passionate moment away.

  “Keep that up, woman, and we may not hit the streets and go dancing, or whatever you have planned for tonight.”

  “What I planned, or hoped, was that we could relax here. Lois and some friends are heading to New York for the weekend. I’ve prepared a candlelight dinner …”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” With naughty scenarios running through his mind, Ace scooped her up in his arms and climbed the stairs two at a time. When they made it to the third floor landing, he slowly released her. Jokingly, Ace exaggerated his breathing, as if he was gasping for air.

  She laughed. “And what was your hurry, Mr. Jamieson?”

  “Let’s just say I’m famished.” He patted his six-pack. Reaching for his hand, Talise led him into the apartment she shared with his cousin’s friend Lois—the one who set them up on a blind date.

  The aromas wafting through the apartment teased Ace. Glancing around, he snickered at the dimmed lighting and burning incense. His eyes then settled on the kitchen counter, which served as a table. It was set for two with crystal goblets and china place settings.

  Absentmindedly, Ace kicked the door closed. As though in a trance, he followed Talise into the kitchen. Grabbing a serving dish, she turned around and practically bumped into him.

  “Here, put that on the table, Ace.”

  “I’d rather nibble on you.” He encircled his arms around her and began to make good on his statement.

  Usually, Talise had a witty comeback but didn’t take his bait this time. Instead, she busied herself by placing more serving pans on the table. When she seemed pleased with her handiwork, she lit the two candles between their plates.

  At the kitchen sink, they played in the water as they washed their hands together. Finished with the task, Ace escorted her to the other side of the open kitchen. He pulled out Talise’s stool and took the seat next to her.

  Ace had a hard time taking his eyes off her until she insisted. Then they held hands, bowed their heads, an
d Talise began to say grace.

  “Jesus,” she said with a pause, as if she was gathering her thoughts.

  Opening one eye, Ace squinted. This was not the time for a moment of reflection. Just pray, so we can eat. “Baby?” he said softly, studying Talise’s troubled face.

  She cleared her throat, but never opened her eyes. “Jesus, please bless this meal.” Pausing again before mumbling a few more words, Talise finished with, “… In Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

  “I’m glad we got through that before our food turned cold,” he joked. Lifting his glass, he sipped some water. When she didn’t laugh, he proceeded to devour his steak and sautéed vegetables. Then Ace shoved a big helping of twice-baked potatoes, lathered with sour cream, in his mouth and swallowed.

  “Baby, this is good.” He winked. “And just think, I’ll have you all to myself tonight to show you my appreciation.”

  Talise mustered a faint smile and picked at her food. Usually, they exchanged seductive glances, naughty words, and sassy flirts over a meal. But not tonight. Maybe Ace was reading too much into it because he was about to lay his heart on the table, or maybe she was going through her monthly hormonal thing. He hoped not.

  After digesting a second helping of potatoes, he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Tay, I want to talk to you—”

  “I have something to say to you also,” she interrupted.

  Ace snickered and then folded his arms. “Go ahead. What’s in that beautiful head of yours?”

  Resting her fork on her placemat, Talise pinched at the fabric a few times but wouldn’t look at him.

  What’s going on? he wondered. His lady was usually confident and talkative, not sober as her expression indicated. Once he professed his growing feelings, he knew that would put a smile on her face.

  “Tay?”

  She bowed her head, as though she was ashamed of something. “I may be pregnant.”

  His eyes widened when her rushed words finally registered. “What?” he asked to test his hearing.

  Lifting her head, she stared into his eyes. “Ace, I may be pregnant.”