Third Time's a Charm

by Virginia Smith

  I’m soooo fired.

  Mitch stepped in front of her, shaking his head slowly. “That was gutsy, Sanderson. Not smart, but gutsy.” His smirk widened. “After I’m promoted, we’re going to have a serious conversation about corporate loyalty.”

  He wandered off in the direction of Kate’s office, no doubt to enjoy the stunning view he’d have when he took her place as Account Executive. Nausea roiled in Tori’s stomach. Kate firing her was probably a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t work for Mitch under any circumstances.

  She left the conference room, but headed in the opposite direction. What she needed right now was a friendly ear.

  Phil looked up from his desk when she entered his office. His forehead creased when he caught sight of her face. “Tori, what’s wrong?”

  She closed the door and leaned against it. “I’m going to get fired.”

  “What?” He gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit down and tell me what happened.”

  Tori sank into the chair. The story tumbled out, and he listened without interrupting.

  “I tried, Phil, I really did.” She folded her hands in her lap. “But that building is a mistake for them. When she asked me outright, I had to tell her what I thought.” She gave him a look of entreaty. “Was I wrong?”

  The tense muscles in her shoulders released when he shook his head.

  “I think you did the right thing. I would have done exactly the same.”

  “You would?”

  He nodded. “It’s called integrity, Tori. And I’m afraid we’re seeing less and less of it around this place.”

  “Well, I won’t be seeing anything around here.” She shook her head. “Do me a favor, would you?” With a gulp, she tapped on the framed Bible verse on the corner of his desk. “Say a prayer that I can find a decent job before too long.”

  A cautious look stole over Phil’s face. “Are you saying you don’t want to stay with Connolly and Farrin?”

  She gave a short laugh. “I don’t think I’m going to have a choice.” Then she grew serious. “But even if Kate doesn’t fire me, I can’t stay here. I won’t work for Mitch.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He grinned and rocked back in the desk chair. “How would you like to work for me?”

  “Really?” Hope flickered at the edge of her gloom. “Do you think Kate would allow that?”

  He shook his head. “You misunderstand. Can you keep something confidential for a few days?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m giving my notice on Friday.” A huge grin flashed onto his face. “I’m going to open my own firm.”

  Stunned, Tori’s jaw slackened. This piece of gossip would rock the office. Nobody saw it coming. Phil was a fixture at Connolly and Farrin. “Phil, that’s terrific. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. When you covered the commercial shoot for me on Friday, I was meeting with a loan officer at the bank to wrap up the final details on the financing. He called about an hour ago and told me I’ve got the green light.” He held up a hand. “Now, it’s not going to be nearly as glamorous as this firm. We’ll handle small businesses, mom-and-pop places that don’t have huge advertising budgets.”

  “Places like Nolan’s Ark?”

  He chuckled. “Exactly like that. I’ve got a list of potential clients that could never afford Connolly and Farrin, and I’m confident I have a shot at getting their business.”

  “And you want me to come work for you?”

  “A talented young woman like you? Are you kidding?” He rocked forward and placed his folded hands on the desk, his expression serious. “I want you to know this didn’t come about because of the decision to make Kate a partner. I’ve been thinking and praying about it for a long time. With the Lord’s help and a couple of enthusiastic people like you, I think this thing has the potential to really take off. And you’d be in on the ground floor.”

  Without a doubt, the atmosphere at Phil’s firm would be the polar opposite of this place. Imagine working for someone who prayed over his decisions.

  Actually, that sounded like something she wanted to be a part of.

  She sat straight up in the chair and gave him her widest smile. “I’d really like to work for you, Phil.”

  “Now, before you agree, I want you to know I won’t be able to pay you what you’re making here, not for a while. And we’ll have to operate on a shoestring budget. No big expense accounts.”

  Tori couldn’t stop the chuckle that gurgled up from deep inside. “I’m learning to deal with that in a lot of areas lately.”

  23

  GOD HAS LED TWO LIVES TO TAKE ONE PATH

  Joan Leigh Sanderson

  AND

  Kenneth Edward Fletcher

  INVITE YOU TO SHARE IN THE JOY OF THEIR MARRIAGE

  ON SATURDAY, JULY NINETEENTH

  AT FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON

  Christ Community Church

  DANVILLE, KENTUCKY

  “You just had to have that ice cream cone this afternoon, didn’t you?” Tori pulled two edges of silky fabric together on the back of Allie’s dress and slid the zipper upward. “There. How does that feel?”

  The Sunday school room in the basement of the church was barely recognizable. Articles of clothing lay scattered over every surface while the cords of curling irons snaked across the floor toward makeup mirrors lining the long table. A cloud of hairspray wafted their way from the direction of Karen, Ken’s sister, and the minute she set the canister down, Mom snatched it up and applied it to an errant curl on Joan’s head. Chelsea stood nearby watching, a miniature vision in a junior bridesmaid dress that matched the rest of them. The church sewing circle deserved a medal for getting it done so quickly.

  “Ice cream has nothing to do with it.” Allie tugged at the snug waist. “It’ll be fine. Just tie the sash loosely.”

  Tori did, then stepped back to admire her handiwork. “There. You’re stunning.”

  Actually, she wasn’t. In fact, she looked a little green, and it had nothing to do with the mint colored silk of her dress. Her eyes widened, and a hand rose to cover her mouth. In the next instant, she fled from the room.

  Great. Allie was coming down with the flu or something right before the wedding. Unless . . . A quick glance assured Tori that Joan hadn’t noticed her sister’s abrupt departure.

  “I’ll be right back,” she announced, and followed Allie to the bathroom, where she wet a paper towel and stood waiting outside the stall.

  “Thanks.” Allie took it and dabbed at her forehead. “Now I have to do my makeup again. But I hope everyone’s finished with the hairspray. One whiff and I’ll lose it all over the bride.”

  Tori folded her arms and watched Allie closely. “Okay, ’fess up. Are you pregnant?”

  After a pause, Allie nodded. “But don’t tell anyone. This is Joan’s big day, and I don’t want to take any attention away from her.”

  Tori squealed and threw her arms around her big sister. “Congratulations! That’s so exciting, Allie!” She drew back. “But it’s really soon, isn’t it? Joanie’s still a baby.”

  Allie scowled. “Tell me about it. We’re going to name this one ‘Oops.’ ”

  A giggle escaped Tori’s lips. “That’s what you get for losing all the weight and becoming sleek and sexy again.”

  “Come on. We’d better get back in there.”

  When they stepped into the hallway, Chelsea ran toward them. “Come see! She’s got her dress on, and she’s so beautiful.”

  She was. When Tori entered the room, the sight that met her stopped her in her tracks. Had there ever been a more beautiful bride than Joan? Her face really did glow as she stood in front of the full-length mirror they’d brought from home, gazing at her gown. Behind her, Mom was having a hard time not crying as she laced the corset back with long, silken cords. Tori blinked away her own tears and came to take Mom’s place.

  “Here, let me do that. I’m the maid of honor.” />
  Allie piped up. “And I’m the matron of honor. I’ll get the veil.”

  Tori concentrated on not twisting the cords as she crisscrossed them down Joan’s back. Karen snapped a few pictures and then went to the other side of the room to put the finishing touches on her makeup.

  “You know, there’s still time to back out,” Tori teased. “Say the word and we’ll tell all those people to go on home.”

  Joan half-turned to grin at her. “Not on your life.”

  Tori smiled. “I didn’t think so.” She bit her lip as she threaded the cord through a silken loop. “I want you to know, I realize I was wrong about Ken.”

  Joan caught her gaze in the mirror. “You mean you don’t think he’s a religious nut anymore?”

  “No. I think he’s . . .” How was it Ryan had described Ken? “Genuine. And perfect for you.”

  “Of course he is.” Allie approached holding Joan’s wispy veil by the comb. “Who else would get so excited about such a crazy wedding present?”

  Across the room, Karen turned, a mascara wand in her hand. “What did you get him?”

  Tori rolled her eyes. “She bought him a herd of goats.”

  Chelsea’s delighted laughter rang in the room, while Karen’s mouth gaped open.

  “Those goats will feed a poor village forever,” Joan told her earnestly. “All their children will have plenty of milk and cheese and meat. It’s a gift of life.”

  Karen grinned. “Yeah, Ken would appreciate that.”

  Allie whirled on Karen. “Do you know what Ken got Joan? He’s been so secretive it’s driving me crazy.”

  Karen’s gaze connected with Tori’s for an instant, then Tori busied herself by adjusting the already-perfect bow. Joan’s secret suitcase lay in readiness in the trunk of Ken’s car. If only she could be there to see her sister’s reaction when he told her about their romantic honeymoon.

  Karen shrugged and returned to her makeup. “Knowing Ken, it’s probably something similar.”

  With a final tug, Tori stepped back and watched as Allie fitted the comb in the mass of Joan’s dark curls. When she took her hands away, Joan turned toward them, her face radiant.

  Mom lifted her glasses to dab at her eyes, then smiled at Chelsea. “I remember dressing her in her Halloween costume when she was your age. And now just look at her.”

  Tori slipped an arm around Mom’s waist and squeezed. She’d been cautious at first, but she had swallowed her resentment and welcomed Chelsea into the family. Tori had never been prouder of her mother.

  As for Patti. . . well, that would take a little more time.

  In the sanctuary upstairs, the organ music changed to a different tune. Right on cue, Eric’s voice called from the hallway.

  “Is everybody decent in there?”

  Joan gasped a breath, her eyes wide, as he entered. “Is it time?”

  “Your groom is chomping at the bit up there.” He stopped and gave a low whistle. “Wow. You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

  Allie punched him on the arm. “Nice, Eric. Hope you enjoy the couch tonight.”

  He laughed and made a display of rubbing his bicep. “She coached me on what to say, but you really are beautiful, Joan. It’s an honor to escort you down the aisle.” He crooked his arm toward her. “Are you ready?”

  They gathered their bouquets and headed upstairs. In the narthex, three tuxedoed groomsmen waited. Tori’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of Ryan, looking more handsome than she could have imagined. He was saying something to Gordy, but stopped when he caught sight of her. The admiration that lit his eyes set her pulse fluttering.

  While Karen’s husband escorted Mom to her seat, everyone else moved into the position they’d rehearsed. Tori and Ryan stood behind Allie and Gordy, the resident Guitar Hero who had agreed to act as the third groomsman.

  Ryan leaned close to her and whispered, “It’s in bad taste to outshine the bride on her wedding day. You look amazing.”

  She grinned up at him. “Thank you. So do you. You should wear a tux more often.”

  He stuck a finger in his collar and tugged at the bow tie. “Nah. It makes the customers at the hardware store nervous.” Then his eyes softened. “The next time I wear one of these, I won’t be walking down this aisle. I’ll be waiting up at the altar.”

  A delicious thrill shot through her as heat flooded her face. Some day she’d have her turn. But today was Joan’s day. She looked toward the end of the line, where Joan waited with her arm tucked into Eric’s. The happiness in her sister’s face stirred up a joy deep in Tori’s soul.

  She deserves to be this happy.

  Ryan saw her glance and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Is she sad that your father isn’t here?”

  “Oh, He’s here.” Tori covered Ryan’s hand with hers and squeezed. “He’s always here.”

  Acknowledgments

  As I wrote this book, I was so aware that this would be the last novel about the Sanderson sisters. Writing their stories has been a tremendous joy. I’ve poured my own family relationships into the Sister-to-Sister books, and when I first started on this fictitious journey, Joan, Allie, and Tori bore more than a passing resemblance to me and my sisters. But as their stories developed, the Sandersons took on personalities and thoughts all their own. It has been delightful—and sometimes surprising—to record their journeys to a place of ultimate peace and happiness with their heavenly Father.

  There is zero possibility that these books would have existed without my sisters. Susie Smith and Beth Marlowe are not only constant sources of inspiration, they’re my best friends and a true gift from the Father we share.

  My husband, Ted, made this book possible in tangible ways—he has supported me in every way a writer (or wife) needs support, and I’m more grateful than I can express.

  My daughter, Christy Delliskave, remains one of my most ardent fans. What a joy to see her becoming the woman I’ve always prayed she would be. I love you, sweetie.

  My mom, Amy Barkman, has been an unceasing source of encouragement, support, and prayer cover my whole life. Thanks so much, Mom.

  Funny story: when I wrote Stuck in the Middle, which focused on Joan Sanderson, I had to come up with an occupation for Allie and Tori. I arbitrarily decided Tori would be a marketing research analyst. It sounded like a good idea at the time. But when I started writing her book, I realized I had no idea what a marketing research analyst did! I contacted Martin Jackson, who actually has a degree in that stuff, and offered to buy his lunch if he’d help me. What followed was a crash course in marketing over a long lunch, and then several months of detailed emails on the subject. Martin’s patient tutoring helped me craft the story, and I can’t thank him enough.

  Of course, a good researcher uses multiple sources. I also put out a call to the American Christian Fiction Writers, and received many pieces of advice from marketing-savvy authors. (Thank you, one and all!) In particular, author James L. Rubart exchanged many lively emails with me, and threw a monkey wrench into my original plot. His comments sparked the idea for Tori’s competitive attempt to be promoted to Account Executive, which shaped the entire story. Since Martin got a lunch out of the deal, here’s my official IOU to Jim—next time we’re together, lunch is on me!

  Special thanks to my friend and fellow writer, Kathleen Dalton-Woodbury, for putting up with my complaining when I’d reached that awkward halfway point, and for saying, “What if she suffers from the impostor syndrome?” Amazing how one little comment will rekindle the flames of motivation that see you through to the end. Thanks, Kathleen! And another special thanks to my longtime friend, Barbara Penegor, for jumping in to proofread the manuscript on super short notice. I’m so grateful, Barbara!

  Several people have helped me stay the course in this crazy publishing industry. Thanks to Wendy Lawton, who is everything an agent should be. And to my editor, Vicki Crumpton, for believing that I had something worthwhile to say, and helping me say it ef
fectively. And thanks to Michele Misiak, Barb Barnes, and all the others at Revell for being so professional and amazingly awesome at everything they do.

  My stories are fiction. But I strive to demonstrate one Truth in every book: we have a very real heavenly Father who will go to extreme measures to let us know how much He loves us. I pray you’ve felt that love as you read Third Time’s a Charm.

  Virginia Smith is the author of eleven novels, including Stuck in the Middle and Age before Beauty, the first two books in the Sister-to-Sister series. Her articles have appeared in numerous magazines, and her short fiction has been anthologized. An energetic speaker, she delights audiences with her high-energy style and poignant illustrations from her own life.

  Visit her website at www.VirginiaSmith.org.

  Books by Virginia Smith

  SISTER-TO-SISTER

  Stuck in the Middle

  Age before Beauty

  Third Time’s a Charm