by Tari Faris
Luke slid Joseph down the nose and back into his arms, then leaned toward his ear. “Don’t worry, dude, she can’t always be watching.”
Libby lifted him from Luke’s arms. “When can I babysit again?”
“How’s tonight?” Luke checked his watch. “In an hour?”
Hannah laughed and hit her husband’s arm. “Sorry, someone is ready for a night out.”
“If she can’t, I can.” Olivia walked up hand in hand with Nate and wiggled Joseph’s foot. “Yes, I can. Yes, sir.”
Luke leaned closer to Nate. “Good luck with the ‘let’s wait to have kids’ conversation.”
Olivia made a face at Luke and turned to Libby. “Sorry we’re late. It took longer than expected.”
“It?” Libby looked from Olivia to Nate.
Nate held out his arm, which had a two-inch gauze bandage on it. He peeled back the tape to reveal a new tattoo with the words “Christ is” wrapped around the first M in “master of my fate.”
“Nice.” Luke gripped his shoulder.
Libby scanned Olivia’s arms. “Did you get one too?”
“No. I told him I might get a matching triquetra on my back, but not until after the wedding.”
“And I told her I like her just the way she is.” Nate pulled Olivia close and offered her a kiss on her nose. “But it’s up to her.”
Libby slid her hand into Austin’s and pulled him close. Just three months ago she’d been almost too afraid to get out of her car. She’d had no idea what was ahead of her. Unknown job, unknown friends, unknown place.
The quote her mother had sent her came floating back. “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” Those were words to live by.
one
She could fail only so many times. That was Leah Williams’s theory, so after two big failures in her life, a win had to be around the next corner. She squared her shoulders against the protests echoing through the phone at her ear as her heels clicked their way up the wide landscaped sidewalk to the Heritage Fruits lobby. If only her sister saw it the same way. “Yes, Caroline, I am going to this meeting.”
Her sister meant well, and she appreciated the concern. After all, Leah had heard all about George Kensington’s difficult brother who had taken over after George’s death a couple years ago. But she had a verbal agreement with George. Dale had to honor it.
Leah squinted against the May sun’s glare as she checked her reflection in the glass door to the lobby. Pinching the phone to her ear with her shoulder and shuffling her briefcase to the other hand, she smoothed down her white long-sleeve blouse and checked to make sure it was tucked into the back of her navy pencil skirt.
She’d borrowed the outfit from Olivia. The subdued clothes would come off as more professional than her newest colorful creation that was carefully tucked into her grandfather’s briefcase. If she was going to get Dale on her side, she had to look and play the part. The briefcase completed her “don’t mess with me, I know what I’m doing” look, even if it was empty except for the fabulous vintage-inspired dress and shoes she planned to change into as soon as this meeting was over.
“Why do you even want to do this?” Caroline’s pragmatic tone echoed through the phone. “You were the one who convinced me we should close the WIFI to begin with.”
Leah smoothed a wisp of red hair back toward her severe bun. That would be the first thing to go after this little meeting. But binding her wild curls would be a small price to pay if it meant she’d walk away with a renewed lease.
She opened the glass door and crossed the lobby before punching the elevator button. “I know, but things are different now.”
Different was an understatement. She’d closed the WIFI with hopes of capturing a little bit of the passion and fulfillment David had written about in his letters. But being a missionary hadn’t filled that nagging desire for purpose she’d been seeking for so long. It had just felt as if she were living someone else’s life—again.
“Have you even told David that you aren’t returning to Costa Rica yet?” Caroline’s words had taken on that big-sister tone. Whatever. She was only older by a few minutes.
“I will. But first this meeting has to go well.” The elevator doors opened and Leah stepped inside. “I’ll call you later.”
She selected the fourth floor and popped the briefcase open just far enough to shove the phone inside. The numbers of the floors lit up as the elevator rose to the top. She drew in a deep breath to calm the churning of her stomach, as much from the motion as from nerves.
The elevator opened to a quiet lobby and the twelve-foot ceilings she remembered. But the ultra-modern decor and the young receptionist with short blonde hair—not so much. She missed George’s secretary with her warm smile and candy bowl full of peppermints.
“May I help you?” The girl looked up from her computer as Leah approached, but her fingers stayed positioned over the keyboard.
“I have a meeting with Mr. Kensington.”
“He’s running late. Take a seat.” She pointed at one of the stiff-looking couches and returned to her typing.
No warm smiles or peppermints today.
Leah paused at a large portrait of George Kensington and his family mounted on one wall. Below it was a brass plaque with the birth and death dates of the parents. By the look of Jon, it had to have been done about ten years ago, when he was still all arms and legs. She almost didn’t recognize the wide-shouldered point guard who now played for the Valencia Basket in the EuroLeague. Her hometown of Heritage, Michigan, had practically had a parade the day one of their very own signed to play professional basketball—even if it was in Europe for a team whose name they struggled to pronounce.
Fewer people had caused Leah stronger emotions than Jonathan George Kensington the Third. She’d hated him in high school, and she’d vowed to hate him her whole life until six months ago. Now she didn’t know how she felt, but seeing his portrait hanging there definitely stirred emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with.
Six Months Ago
She could not be stranded in Detroit—not today. Leah stared at the departures board as one flight then another shifted their status from delayed to canceled. The Grand Rapids flight used a smaller plane, so maybe there was a chance they’d still get out tonight. She had only twenty-four hours until Olivia and Nate’s wedding, and she couldn’t miss it. She was a bridesmaid, for goodness’ sake. It had to be this year that they got a snowstorm for Thanksgiving?
“Do you think we’re going to be stuck here?” A deep baritone voice spoke from behind Leah.
“I hope not, I need to get—” She turned toward the man but found herself looking at a wide shoulder. She tilted her head back and paused. Jonathan George Kensington the Third. The crown prince of Heritage if there’d ever been one, and her archenemy in high school. “Home.”
Leah spun back to the monitor as she tugged her knitted hat down a little farther. How dare he be in her airport? Maybe it was a little egocentric to think of Detroit Metro as hers, but the great thing about more than four billion people flying a year was that she shouldn’t have to see anyone she knew.
Especially him, looking all good after hours of travel. His brown hair was a little long for her taste, but his mess of curls worked. The week-old scruff only added to his good looks. After hours of travel, her red mop looked more like the result of an unfortunate incident with a light socket, and her face was in need of a good exfoliant.
He took another step closer. “Nice bag.”
Leah’s face flamed as she pulled her backpack to her front and out of his view. No doubt it didn’t measure up to his designer standards. But she’d made it from pieces of her grandfather’s old corduroys. It was one of the few items she’d sewn and kept. There was no price she could put on it, but she wouldn’t expect trust-fund Jon to understand that. “Do I know you?”
Maybe it was a little immature, but she was in no mood for a reunion. She turned back to the board just as another f
light’s status flipped to canceled.
Jon nudged her shoulder with his. “Come on, Leah. I know you know who I am.”
Typical Jon, thinking he’d be unforgettable. Never mind that he was right. Her head jerked back toward him. His large brown eyes outlined by dark lashes she’d kill for looked back at her with a touch of amusement. She’d try to deny remembering him, but that smirk said he was onto her. “It’s Caroline, actually. And you’re Johnny, right?”
He released a small laugh as he crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Nice try. Unlike most of the school, I could always tell you and your twin apart. Think we should go try to get a rental car while we can?”
“We? There’s no we. I barely remember you.”
She hadn’t seen the guy in three years and suddenly he was acting like they were long-lost friends, but they had never been friends to begin with. Maybe they had many of the same friends, but that was not the same thing.
“You’re obviously waiting for the connecting flight to Grand Rapids. I figured since we’re both trying to get to Heritage that . . .” He held up his hand and took a step back. “You know what? Never mind. Good seeing you, Leah.” He walked away but stopped to nudge a teenage girl’s leg. “Abby, let’s go.”
Abby? Leah hadn’t seen Abigail Kensington in probably four years. Long gone was the brace-face, bubbly seventh grader who wore gummy bracelets and headbands. This girl wore heavy black liner around each eye, and her hair was dyed to match. Her leather coat and threadbare jeans probably cost more than Leah’s entire wardrobe.
Abby stood and followed her brother without taking her eyes off her phone.
Leah turned back as more flights changed their status to canceled. Please oh please, Lord, I have to get home. God seemed to have forgotten about her, but maybe today would finally be her day for an answered prayer.
Another flight flipped to canceled. Or maybe not.
Twenty minutes later the snow was still coming down, thick now as it blew this way and that before reaching the ground. She glanced back up as the last flight—her flight—was canceled. She sighed, her bag drooping from her shoulder as a bitter taste filled her mouth. Now what? Maybe she should call Caroline. But there was nothing her sister could do. She was already in Heritage.
Any hope of renting a car disappeared a few minutes later as she descended the escalator. Every line that led to a car rental company had to be over fifty people long.
When she stepped off the escalator, Jon blocked her path with a set of keys in hand and that annoying smirk back in place. “Need a ride?”
She nodded and waited for the inevitable “I told you so,” but he just bent down, picked up her suitcase, and motioned for her to follow.
Thirty minutes later, as they navigated the icy highway at a whopping thirty miles an hour, Leah sent a text to update Caroline. She’d miss the rehearsal and girls’ night they’d planned, but if she could make the wedding it would still be worth it.
“Where are you flying home from, Leah?” Jon kept his eyes fixed on the road as he spoke, both hands tightly gripping the wheel.
“I’m living in Costa Rica. My brother, David, and I work with a youth program for missionary kids. I’m just flying home for Olivia’s wedding.” She dropped her phone in her purse and dialed up the temperature on her heated seat. At first she’d rolled her eyes at Jon throwing his family’s money around once again by choosing the luxury SUV. But she had to admit, she’d feel a lot less comfortable in one of those compacts they’d passed in the lot.
“I was planning on going to that too. Maybe you could save me a dance.” Was it her imagination, or did he sound a little unsure for the first time?
Either way, it was best to avoid an answer. She tried to see beyond the falling snow. “I have to fly back to Costa Rica on Sunday. I didn’t really have the time to take this trip, but I couldn’t miss another one of my best friends’ weddings. I already missed Hannah’s.”
“But that was to be expected, right?”
Her head whipped back to him. “Why? Because I might have stood up and made a scene when the pastor asked if anyone objected? I may have had an adolescent crush on Luke, but I think I could have handled it even without you pointing out that I wasn’t good enough for him. Again.”
“What? I never said that.” He shot her a quick glance but focused back on the road that was getting harder and harder to see.
“You’re right.” Leah positioned one of the vents to point at her, but that seemed to send the scent of Jon’s cologne her way. The expensive ones really did smell better. She angled the vent the other direction. “I believe your words were, ‘I can’t believe you think you have a chance with Luke. You need to wake up and see what’s in front of you.’ Aka, ‘You aren’t good enough for my friend.’”
“Whoa—that’s harsh.” Abby spoke up from the back seat. That was the first time she had spoken all night. Leah had almost forgotten she was there.
“That’s not what I meant. Besides, what happened to barely remembering me?” His hands gripped the wheel a little tighter now.
“Fine. I have one memory.” She leaned forward and flipped on the radio.
He glared at his sister in the rearview mirror. “Weren’t you listening to music?”
“Your fighting was louder than my music. Think you two could keep it down?” She shoved her earbuds back in.
Jon sighed and offered Leah a fake smile if she had ever seen one. “Sorry. Let’s pick a less volatile subject. How are you enjoying Costa Rica?”
Leah settled on an oldies station and rested her head back. “Fine.”
“Fine? I’ve seen a lot of pictures of Costa Rica, and fine is not the word I would use to describe it.” The dim light outside highlighted his profile. If it weren’t for his slightly crooked nose, he might be considered pretty. But he was a little too rough for that.
“The place is amazing. The kids are amazing.” She twisted her hands together. She wasn’t really in the mood to hash this out right now. “But I thought I would enjoy the job more. I miss Heritage. I think I miss running the WIFI.”
“That was such a weird name for a store.”
“When my grandfather opened the store in 1952, WIFI was catchy. You have to admit the abbreviation for Want It Find It made more sense before the digital age.”
“True. If you miss running it, maybe you should come home and open it again.”
“It didn’t make it the first time.” She ran her fingers across the soft leather. “Why do you think I could make it this time?”
“You just need a solid business model. And maybe a new name. What model did you go with last time? Or did Caroline handle that?”
“Caroline handled the books. I made the other decisions: inventory, marketing, and customer service. I used the Leah model.”
“What is that?”
“If you act like you know what you’re doing, people believe you. It worked most of the time.”
“A fake-it-until-you-make-it attitude.” His full laugh filled the SUV. “My uncle would love that.”
“I wouldn’t tell him that was the plan. If I play the part of a businesswoman, maybe he’ll be convinced. I’d just say, ‘The WIFI was a central piece of this community that George believed in, and I believe in it too. If you give me a chance, I’ll show you how dynamic it can be again.’”
“Perfect.”
“Really?”
“No. Not really.” His laughter echoed in the car again, then he schooled his features. “My dad was sentimental and he may have gone for it, but Uncle Dale is a bottom-line kind of guy. If you don’t have the numbers and a solid plan to back it up, he will laugh you out of the room.”
“Hey, I’m not an idiot. I ran a very successful Etsy shop before I left for Costa Rica. Besides, I think you’re wrong about your uncle. He isn’t all about the bottom line—that’s you, apparently. From what I heard, Dale is all about whatever makes Dale look good. So I’ll just have to appeal to his ego. Maybe I’ll
say, ‘The WIFI was a central piece of this community, and by reopening it you could help the town see you aren’t the ogre they all think you are.’”
“Much better. But you still may want to give that business plan a little more thought . . . and find a better word for ogre.” Jon laughed and Leah found herself settling into the sound. They’d had their problems, but maybe this grown-up Jon was someone she could enjoy getting to know.
Present Day
She had to stop poking at that memory. She hadn’t heard from Jon since their drive in the snow. Of course, she hadn’t reached out either. But what do you say after something like that? “I know you were forced to be nice to me because we were trapped by the snow, but do you still want to be friends?”
That sounded as dumb now as it had every time she’d typed that text out on her phone and then deleted it. It had been nothing. And since they hadn’t been friends before—more like enemies—there was no reason for them to be friends now.
A buzz filled the air, and the secretary snatched up the phone. “Yes . . . I’ll send her right in.” She barely glanced up. “Mr. Kensington will see you now.” The woman motioned to a large set of doors, then returned to her typing.
Leah stood and smoothed her skirt. She lifted her chin, scooped up the handle of her briefcase, and walked to the door. Confidence. Professional. Businesswoman. Dale might be a hardnose, but he had an ego and respected confidence. He wouldn’t know what hit him.
She opened the door and tripped on her heels.
Not Dale. Jon. Jonathan George Kensington the Third. All six-foot-four of him. His hair was still a little long but had been smoothed back. The rebellious edge had been replaced with a clean shave, black suit, and red tie.
His brown eyes widened as he dashed forward to help her regain her balance. “Leah? My uncle asked me to take this appointment for him, but he didn’t give me any details.”
When she didn’t answer, Jon released her and stepped back. He took in her clothes and heels and lifted a brow when his eyes landed on the briefcase. She resisted the urge to chuck it back out the door and start over.