by Janice Sims
“Lord forgive me,” she mumbled under hear breath.
A woman sitting in an adjacent pew chanced a glance in her direction, then turned her attention back to the man speaking so eloquently near the altar.
Renata settled into Devin’s message, enjoying the sound of his voice and the way she felt like warm honey just listening to him.
But as she watched and listened, Renata knew that it was much more than seeing him and hearing him speak. It was the mere idea and experience of being in his presence. It made her feel like her soul was unfolding, relaxing, and calming. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how keyed up she’d been recently—maybe always was.
She sighed, sank back in the pew, and smiled inside, feeling like someone had just rubbed her feet.
There is nothing more attractive than a man confident in his mission. Renata glanced round. All eyes were on Devin, and rightly so. He captivated an audience like Tony Robbins, Les Brown, Zig Ziglar, and any other motivational speaker she’d ever heard.
I could listen to Devin talk for hours and hours, she thought.
Damn, she knew she was cheesing up a storm. She knew that the grin on her face was about as wide as the Grand Canyon. She also knew that she couldn’t help herself.
And then, in a second, she lost her happiness. All the good feeling deflated upon one single question: Why would a man like this come into her life? She could tell by his dedication to Christ that Devin was the kind of churchman who would never hook up with a woman who wasn’t “in God” or walking with the Lord. But she wasn’t about to fake having a civil relationship with God just to get a man. That didn’t, however, stop her from thinking that maybe she could persuade Devin to come over to her side…just a little.
She made up her mind there in Red Oaks Church that if he ever showed any interest in her, she would not dissuade him from pursuing her romantically.
He started the second half of his talk, and Renata placed the fan back in its slot. She hoped that after the session they could go out for coffee. Her smile returned again just thinking about it.
“That’s where most business owners go wrong. They either don’t have the expertise to run a business, don’t have the enthusiasm to see their dream to fruition, or just flat out mismanage the business,” Devin said, pacing before his audience.
“In today’s market, business owners either know what they’re doing or they don’t. There is no room in this economy for anything else. There is no such thing as kinda making it.”
Renata realized she had come empty-handed. She should have brought pencil and paper. Devin spoke of budget planning as if he was the CEO of a large company instead of a freelance writer. But it all made sense. As he talked, Renata took mental notes of all the important points of his presentation.
She was glad she’d come.
Seven
“Thank you for inviting me,” Renata said to Devin as they set out for their walk. “That was a very good message. I never thought about looking at my business as if it were a living entity.”
“When I quit my job at the Macon Telegraph newspaper and started working for myself, I didn’t do so well at first. I didn’t have a clear vision of my business or what I wanted to accomplish. When it started taking on a life of its own, I realized that my business really did have life, or it could if I started treating it like something that had a purpose and could grow with the right care and attention.
“The first year I had to file my taxes didn’t go well, either. That’s when I started to think of money and other resources as the fuel and nutrition my business needed to survive. When you think of it that way, suddenly you want to put your business on a diet or at least create a well-balanced meal—the kind that will provide the correct portions of energy and sustenance to keep it running.”
The night cooled Renata’s skin. They walked past rows of trees full and green from a perfect spring. It was almost eight-thirty in the evening. Their footsteps were the only sounds in the air as if the entire town was getting ready for bed.
Renata thought back to Devin’s presentation. He’d used phrases like trim the fat, portion control, and healthy choices when he’d spoken of ways to get a handle on runaway budgets. Considering what her agency was going through right now, his message made perfect sense. She would use some of his ideas immediately.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“What’s what?” she asked back.
“That thing on your face,” he responded, faking a frown. “It looks like a smile.”
Renata held back the laugh as long as she could. Then it burst freely from her as if she were being tickled.
“Ah, you’ve done it,” Devin continued. “Now, that I know you can smile and laugh, I’ll expect to see more of that, and I’ll be doing stupid things from time to time to see if I can get you to do either one, or both.”
The smile on Renata’s face felt broad and, if she wasn’t careful, permanent.
How quickly he’d figured her out. She didn’t smile or laugh much. She didn’t have time with everything that had to be done with the agency. And the hard lump of sadness which had lived in her stomach since her brother died was also to blame.
“Don’t lose that smile,” Devin said. “It looks good on you.”
Truth be told, Devin thought anything would look good on Renata Connor—faded jeans and holey T-shirts, a burlap bag, nothing at all. Doggone. That was the third time he’d mentally undressed her that evening. He’d better keep his attention on her smile. And, since it was a beautiful smile, that wouldn’t be hard.
“So, where is this coffee shop?” Renata asked with the sweet haunting taste of anticipation in her mouth.
“Just a few blocks ahead.”
Renata nodded.
“Well, actually it’s more than a few blocks ahead. It’s more like half a mile. And it’s not really a coffee shop, it’s a restaurant that serves coffee along with everything else on their menu.”
Renata smiled again. Devin liked it. Could get used to it. “So,” she said, running her hand across the leaves of a begonia bush. “You got me here on false pretenses. Whatever happened to ‘Thou shalt not lie’?”
Now she was really smiling. In the evening light, her face couldn’t look anymore radiant than if the sun had decided to follow her wherever she went. And if Devin wasn’t careful, it wouldn’t be the sun following her around, it would be him. The spirit of the woman walking next to him was so compelling; he wanted to find out more about it—about her.
“I didn’t lie. I was simply a little vague about where we were going.”
No smile this time. He wondered why. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied.
Devin bit down on his tongue. He didn’t want to risk offending Renata by saying something she would consider inappropriate. But confrontation was his nature. If there was a rat on the table, he believed that the best thing to do was to say, “Hey, there’s a rat on the table!” and do whatever was necessary to get it off. Not everyone agreed with his philosophy. Some people preferred to ignore the dirty little problems they had and allow them to eat at their souls until the problems became huge monsters. That kind of thinking had ended his marriage. Since then, Devin had made it a habit of learning from his mistakes.
“There’s nothing wrong with being happy,” he said. “It’s okay to feel good sometimes.”
She was silent for a while. In the distance, the music of a child’s laughter broke in the air. Devin knew he’d overstepped his boundaries. But then she said, “What if you don’t feel happy?”
“First, you have to give yourself permission to. We all deserve to be content.”
She stopped walking then, the smile gone from her face. Not even a hint of it remained. “Then why is there so much unhappiness? I mean—” She did a half turn. “It’s all around us.”
Devin took both her hands in his. She seemed so lost in the moment that he couldn’t help himself. “First you have to work on finding
your own joy. When you do that, you see more joy in the world and, ultimately, it helps you to see how your gifts can bring joy to others.”
“Damn,” Renata said, then shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Not a problem,” Devin said, smiling himself.
“You make a lot of sense, Mr. McKenna,” she said, taking her hands back.
They resumed their walk, and Devin was amazed at how empty his hands felt without Renata’s to hold. Cool air flowed over the places on his palms where Renata’s hands had been. He much preferred the sensation of her warmth.
Like part of an unspoken agreement, they both picked up the pace and headed to the restaurant. The summer evening temperature dropped rapidly. Neither of them had dressed for a cool night.
Their walk took them to the Hedgefield Inn. The inn was named after one of the town’s founding families. For years, the inn, which was originally an antebellum mansion, had been closed and in disrepair. Renata remembered hearing that someone had purchased the mansion and recently opened the downstairs as a restaurant and gift shop. She’d wanted to go for weeks, but she’d—to use a McKenna term—put her agency and herself on a financial diet.
They were ushered to seats in a room that looked as though it had come straight out of a Civil War movie. Only this was the real thing. Brass and crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows covered with drapes too heavy to lift, and wood furniture so sturdy and heavy it would take five men to move each piece. As they studied menus, Renata’s stomach grumbled at the aroma of smoked ham, grilled onions, and fresh baked biscuits. She hadn’t been hungry during their walk to the inn, but now…she couldn’t wait to order.
They continued their conversation by discussing the remaining details of the agreement between Red Oaks and Success Unlimited. Renata kept all the figures in her head. Red Oaks would pay the three thousand-dollar sponsorship fee. In exchange, Malcolm would work for the church for three months. Renata would continue to monitor and evaluate his progress weekly. Malcolm would receive a stipend from both the church and the agency. At the end of the three months, Malcolm’s performance would be evaluated in hopes of a permanent position at the church.
Over an appetizer of hot wings, they agreed to all the standard terms of the agency contract. It happened so quickly, Renata wondered what they would talk about for the rest of the time they were there.
She glanced around the inn. There weren’t a lot of folks eating at this hour. Probably most had come and gone with the dinner rush. What seemed to be left were couples who wanted an intimate and romantic setting in which to spend time with someone special. Then she glanced at Devin. He was definitely special. And after his presentation tonight, she knew he was even more special, attractive, and intelligent than she had originally imagined. Almost enough to bring her backsliding butt back to church.
Almost.
Along with the aroma of the food surrounding them and the wings on their table was Devin’s aftershave. She’d been trying to ignore it but wasn’t being too successful. It made her wonder if he’d splashed it anywhere else on his body besides his cheeks and neck. It smelled so good she became lost in the fragrance for a moment and believed for a hot second that she and Devin were on a date and not in a restaurant discussing business.
“There it is again,” Devin said, then polished off the last of the wings.
Before he asked her to explain the smile spreading on her lips, their meals came.
Renata had ordered the veggie plate. She wasn’t a vegetarian, but she couldn’t resist the selection of greens, cabbage, and fried okra. Devin had ordered barbequed ribs with baked beans and cornbread.
“You really should do that more often,” he said. Then they dug into their food.
Devin was playing it cool, but inside he really couldn’t understand his feelings. His emotions were rushing inside him, and he barely even knew Renata.
What’s wrong with me? he asked himself. But it wasn’t what was wrong that concerned him. It was what was right, which seemed to be everything since a few days ago when he’d met Renata. She’d been on his mind since then, and not in a small way.
“You make me laugh,” she said, wielding the beautiful smile of hers like a weapon. And it worked. It did make him a little weak.
If women only knew what goes on in men’s minds, he thought. They’d be surprised to find that we’re not as shallow as they sometimes think. It’s just that we compartmentalize things. Like right now, Devin’s faith was fighting a strong battle with his hormones. Which was why the business portion of their dinner went so quickly. He had agreed to everything she asked because he couldn’t stop looking at her mouth and believing that anything that came out of it must be good.
And her eyes…they were so accepting and so inviting. One look into them and it was all over with.
For the remainder of their time at the inn, Devin successfully pushed away his feelings of attraction and concentrated on the fact that he’d just met Renata, and that it would be a good idea to get to know her before considering the possibility that he might like her. Truly, deeply like her.
On the way home, Renata thought about how grateful she was for a night out. She hadn’t had one in longer than she could remember, and being out with a man like Devin McKenna was a refreshing change from hanging around teenage boys and an oversexed administrative assistant.
And Devin had seemed as though he’d been on a subtle mission to keep her smiling all evening.
He’d done it in so many ways. His comments, his facial expressions to her comments. Even the way he ate his food was funny. Devin ate everything on his plate except the ribs. He’d saved those for last.
Renata chuckled. She missed smiling and laughing so freely.
It felt good.
The best part of the evening came at the end, though. It was cold when they came out of the inn. Her short sleeves had been no protection for the wind.
“I’d offer you my jacket, if I had one,” he’d said.
Renata hugged herself in an effort to get warm. It didn’t help much. And then out of the blue…
“Here,” Devin had said, and put his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her closer—but not too close—and the two of them walked together like that the rest of the way back to Red Oaks Church.
They didn’t say much. It was as if they’d been afraid of what might come out of their mouths if they had—something crazy like, I don’t know you from a can of paint, but I don’t want this night to end…ever.
Renata sighed and steered her Elantra into her driveway.
I’m projecting, she thought, having no way of know if Devin shared her feelings. She turned off the ignition, knowing that her strong attraction to Devin would make working with the outreach ministry difficult.
A Christian! Why did he have to be a Christian?
Eight
The next day, Devin felt good. Walking and talking with Renata had inspired him. Made him want to be creative—sit down and write until his fingers were tired.
He opened an electronic file on his computer and wrote a pitch for an article on the benefits of male/female friendships. He was in the zone, and the words poured from his hands like water.
He stopped there, knowing that he would have to fill in the blanks he’d left with a specific editor’s name and address. He stretched his fingers, cracked his knuckles, and smiled. The query was only two pages long, but that was the fastest letter he’d ever written. And he had Renata to thank for it. Seeing her, being with her, had put the idea in his head. Only he realized something: He already thought of Renata as more than a friend.
He turned around at the knock on his apartment door. Curious, he rose and walked toward it. He wasn’t expecting company. Some of his friends had a habit of popping over anytime they were in the neighborhood. He’d worked the day away and couldn’t imagine what his friends might want that late in the evening. Darn. Sometimes he wished they would call first.
When Devin opened the door, he blew out a
breath of relief so thick, it should have been visible.
Renata, his mind whispered, then unleashed a whirlwind of thoughts.
Promise, responsibility, duty…requirement. All words he would have used to describe his involvement with Renata Connor—until today. Today there was another reason.
He wanted her.
The more she seemed to be exactly the kind of woman who was all wrong for him, the more he wanted to be near her. To watch her. To talk to her. To watch her some more.
He’d awakened wanting it. Her presence. Looked forward to it all day. His obligation to Mother Maybelle was secondary now, or maybe not even a factor at all.
Humph.
He rocked back on his heels. Squared his shoulders, sucked in a deep breath, released it, and took a good look at the woman who’d diverted his thoughts, detoured his ideas, and shanghaied his focus. He kind of liked it actually. Liked the prospect of having something other than his writing, his ex-wife, or his stagnated life preoccupying his time and thoughts. His life had been on pause, or on hiatus. The same life that hadn’t moved forward an inch for so long he was thinking of packing up all of his things and moving, just to start fresh and rejuvenate.
But this spitfire of a woman was enough excitement for a while. For a long while. He realized that maybe it wasn’t just this morning that his thoughts had changed and become engaged and reawakened. She’d been creeping in, like a light behind a cracked door swinging slowly open. He was caught. Paralyzed. He couldn’t wait to see what she would do next—what brightness she might bring to his life.
“May I come in?” she asked.
Slowly he remembered that he couldn’t just lean against the doorway and watch like he wanted to. He had to talk, speak, interact, ruin his fantasy.
Had he been fantasizing?
“Yes,” he responded.