by Kara Isaac
Emily rubbed her stomach in a circular motion, quirked a smile. “That bad, huh?”
“What?”
“The breakup.”
Good to know it was that obvious.
Emily waved a hand. “I went out with a guy for four years, then he announced he’d fallen in love with his flatmate. Felt like I couldn’t turn around without seeing the two of them all over each other. So off to the big smoke I came.”
“Well I didn’t have to worry about that. Alex didn’t even want to live in the same country when we were together.” Where the words came from, Paige didn’t even know. It was as though Emily invited openness with her honest face and maternal vibe.
“Bet he didn’t think you had it in you to do the same, did he?” A grin covered Emily’s face and Paige couldn’t stop returning it.
“That would be an understatement.” The last contact she’d had with Alex, he’d told her the joke had gotten old and it was time to give it up. When she’d told him it wasn’t a joke he’d asked her to reimburse him for his July airfare since he’d been coming back to see her. What a charmer.
Emily’s lips puckered. “Why do I get the sense there might be someone else in the picture?”
O’Hare appeared in her mind. Though, for some reason, it was the dark eyes of a disheveled stranger who took center stage rather than Nate, who she’d talked to an hour ago. She shook Mr. Dark and Disheveled out of her head. She hadn’t thought of him since arriving in Sydney. Why now? “No . . . Yes . . . Maybe . . . I don’t know.”
Emily tilted her head. “Sounds complicated.”
A sigh escaped her. “He’s a good friend. I guess I’m hoping that a bit of distance will provide some clarity.”
Paige tried to glance over her shoulder without making herself too obvious. How far away was the kitchen from here? Her nerves were pulled tighter than an eighteenth-century corset and, as easy as Emily was to talk to, she needed to get on with convincing Janine she had the skills and experience for this job.
“Well who knows? Maybe a nice Aussie guy will sweep you off your feet. Then one day you might even get to become a human bowling ball like me.” Emily shifted uncomfortably on the couch, her tone wry.
“We could all only live in hope to be as gorgeous as you. Lord knows I was a washed-out wreck for all three of my pregnancies.” Janine reentered the room, closing the door behind her. She passed chilled bottles of water to them both, took a seat on the opposite sofa, kicked off her heels, and perched the balls of her feet on the coffee table. “That’s better.”
This was officially that most disconcerting job interview Paige had ever been to. Her fingers tapped against the cover of her resume and she glanced at her watch. Twenty past. Hadn’t Maggie said Janine needed to be somewhere by quarter to?
“Now Emily, have you enlightened Paige as to who you are?”
Her couch colleague held the icy bottle against her décolletage and cast Paige an apologetic look. “Sorry, you must be wondering why I’m here. I’ve been the logistics manager for Grace for the last four years.”
Oh. And Paige wasted their time together talking about a nonexistent relationship when she could have been getting critical insights into the role.
“Okay.” Smooth. Real smooth, Paige.
“Did Kat tell you much about the role?” Janine took a sip of water.
“Not a lot, to be honest, but I’ve read the job description on your website.”
“Well, let me share some thoughts with you.” As Janine explained how the conference had gone from fifty women in a small hall three decades ago to the huge event it had become, Paige found herself leaning forward, absorbing every word.
Janine’s passion and heart for the event were contagious. As she spoke, Paige could imagine the thousands of women from all over the world being challenged and spiritually nourished.
“So how does that sound?”
“Incredible.”
Janine’s smile engulfed her face. “It is. Are you keen?”
Keen?
Emily clarified. “She means are you interested.”
Paige glanced between them. “Absolutely.” She tried to form her mouth around the big question in her mind and work out how to say it without being offensive. “Um, is part of the job requirement that I have to go to church here?”
She held her breath. What would she do if they said yes? It wouldn’t be unreasonable on their part—of course they would want to employ people who went to their church. Who tithed back to them.
Janine smiled, shook her head, blonde hair swishing. “Definitely not. We’d love it if you did, but we appreciate that Harvest isn’t for everyone. It’s more important to us that you find a community that works for you. I can get Maggie to give you a list of other great churches in the area, if you’d like.”
Paige stared at her, bemused. They didn’t care if she went here? Janine had even looked genuine when she said “other great churches in the area,” like she didn’t see them as competition.
“Is that okay?”
Paige shook herself out of her stupor. “Yes, great. I mean it’s not that I don’t want to go here, it’s just—”
Janine waved her attempt at an explanation away. “All I care about is that you find where you fit. If there’s anything we can do to help, let me know.” She reached down, pulled a manila envelope from under the coffee table, and slipped a stack of papers out. “All the details of the role are here. Like the ad said, it’s a six-month contract to cover Emily’s maternity leave. That works with your visa requirements, right?”
“It’s perfect.” While her work and holiday visa was valid for twelve months, she wasn’t allowed to work for the same employer for more than six.
“Great. It’s not just Grace. We’ll also have you involved with other things as you have capacity and I’m not sure what you were on in Chicago but the salary is . . .” She flicked through a few pages and named a figure.
Some rough currency conversion in her head gave Paige a figure that was about the same as she’d made back home. It would be a little tight since she had some upcoming bills on her condo to meet, but doable given the minimal rent Kat had insisted on charging her.
“I hope that’s acceptable. I’m told the exchange rate is in our favor.”
“Yes, that’ll be fine.” Paige’s head spun. “But . . .”
Janine put the papers back and slid the envelope across the table to her. “Now, if everything is agreeable, any chance you can start Monday? That will give you a couple of weeks with Emily before she finishes on May fifth and your contract ending the week after Grace.”
Paige finally managed to get the words out. “But you haven’t even interviewed me.” They hadn’t asked her anything about herself or her experience or her beliefs. They hadn’t even asked for a copy of her visa to check she could legally work for them.
Janine laughed. “Actually, Emily did before I walked in. You just didn’t even know it.”
“But, she only asked me about me.”
“Exactly. But what you don’t know is that your Senior Pastor in Chicago is an old friend. We gave Mike a call, and he highly recommended you. Said you had been a great contributing member of the church. Would hire you to be on his staff in a flash. And since we know him, we know we agree theologically and doctrinally on key things so it’s all good. And, most importantly . . .”
Janine rose and walked to an internal door. Knocking, she opened it and stuck her head through the gap. “Hon, would you mind coming in here a sec?”
A few seconds later, the door opened wide and Greg Tyler appeared. Paige didn’t have time to absorb the surprise before Janine grabbed his hand and dragged him to the couch.
“Honey, this is Paige.”
His face creased with a smile. “Paige, great to meet you. Janine was thrilled to get your application. Has she charmed you into coming on board yet?”
Paige stumbled to her feet. “Nice to meet you too, sir. She, well, your wife is very con
vincing. I’m—”
“Paige is a little confused because she thinks we’ve offered her the job without a proper interview. Why don’t you tell her what you told me last year when you came back from Chicago?” She turned back to Paige. “Greg did the half marathon last year.”
Paige struggled to understand what was happening here.
Pastor Tyler wrapped his arm around Janine’s slim waist and gave it a squeeze. “When I came home from Chicago, I said to Janine, ‘Honey, sometime soon Emily is going to leave us for a higher calling and when she does, we need to pray that the Lord sends us the logistics person for the Chicago Marathon because that is one well-oiled machine.’ And hey presto, here you are.”
Janine nodded at the envelope in Paige’s hands. “You don’t have to give us an answer right now. Think it over tonight and let me know tomorrow. We’d love to have you on the team but we understand that with your impressive CV you’ve probably got other offers to consider.”
The rational side of her wanted to say yes on the spot to Janine’s hopeful expression. This was a professional no-brainer.
But the emotional side reminded her she’d been here before. Had seen behind the veil of the slick front people, promotional machinery, and adoring congregants. And it had almost cost her her faith.
Seven
Paige hit the ground by the side of her bed hard and fast. Someone was being murdered outside, the horrible high-pitched screams cutting through her slumber. She threw open her door, and ran down the hall and into the living area. Where did Kat keep the phone?
There it was, sitting in its cradle on the bench. Grabbing it up, her fingers fumbled, c’mon, c’mon. Nine, then a one—
“Where’s the fire?”
Her cousin stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, eating a piece of toast, calm as could be.
“Someone’s being murdered outside my bedroom. Listen!”
Kat tilted her head as another scream reached them. Paige’s finger went for the second one. What was the address here?
Suddenly the handset was flying from her grip, hurtling across the room like a small rectangular missile.
“Ow!” The back of her hand stung from where Kat’s slap had landed.
“Please tell me I got you before you hit the second one.”
“I think so.” Paige rubbed her hand. Had her cousin lost her mind? Was crime in Sydney so bad that Kat would just stand by while someone was being mutilated? Wait, was she laughing? Kat was doubled over, shoulders shaking. After a few seconds, she gasped and hauled herself upright.
“What is so funny?” Paige crossed her arms.
“It’s a kookaburra.”
“A what?”
“No one is being assaulted. That is the call of a kookaburra. It’s a native bird. They’re everywhere.”
“That was a bird?” As Paige said it, its screech ripped through the apartment again. This time, wide awake, she could tell it wasn’t human.
Kat nodded, wiped the straggling tears off her cheeks. “It is. But just for future reference, in Australia the emergency number is triple zero.”
“Then why did you slap me?”
“Just in case they reroute nine-one-one because of all the Americans who think it works everywhere.”
She did know that it was a different number. In her half-asleep state, instinct had kicked in.
“But since you’re up, want to come to church with me?”
“To Harvest.” The previous two weeks, she’d managed to dodge the question by sleeping in or going for a run.
Kat raised an eyebrow. “You are going to be working there as of tomorrow. Shouldn’t you give it a chance?”
No. She may have decided to take a chance and work for a megachurch, but that didn’t mean she was going to go to one. Ever again.
“It’s nothing like your old one, I promise.” Her cousin widened her perfectly made-up eyes. “Please. It would be nice not to go by myself for a change.”
Paige sighed. “Fine. Just this once. If I don’t like it, do you promise to leave me alone?”
Kat held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Why not? Might as well do some early recon on what she’d signed up for. But she wasn’t going to like it. She was well-acquainted with megachurches and they were all the same. They waited until they sucked you in and then they hit you with the fine print, the guilt, the obligation. And then turned against you faster than an angry rattlesnake if you didn’t toe the party line.
People approached the building for the nine a.m. service. Like ants returning to their hill, they came from the parking lots in every direction, streaming into the big open doors that dotted the sides of the building housing the main auditorium.
Paige scanned the crowd bustling around her and Kat. Old people, young people, families, snuggly couples. People dressed up in suits and dresses, others looking like they’d just rolled out of bed and grabbed whatever was on the floor.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Kat tugged at her hand as they entered the first set of doors, pulling her to the left toward the same stairs she’d climbed on Thursday. At the top, they turned left instead of right, into a hallway where more doors were flung open. Greeters stood in the doorways, handing out bulletins and directing families to the kids’ programs.
Kat grabbed two sheets from a smiling woman, and they headed through the next set of doors.
They were standing in the second level of a huge auditorium with chairs spread in a semicircle, oriented around the stage on the main floor. From what Paige could see of the ground floor, it was already packed. They were on a mezzanine, which was filling up as the seconds ticked by.
“Come on.” Kat strode down a few steps giving Paige no choice but to follow her. “If we don’t hurry up, we’ll end up in the nosebleeds.”
“Excuse me, excuse me.” Kat squeezed through people as she headed down the aisle, pausing at a row of seats about halfway down.
“Hi, can we get in here?” She flashed a smile at some teenagers on the end of a row. They duly stood to allow access to a few empty seats near the middle.
The middle? No, Paige needed to be on an aisle. Somewhere offering a quick escape. “Kat!” A panicked whisper fell from her mouth, but it was too late, her cousin was gone and the boys stood, waiting for her to follow. “Excuse me, sorry, excuse me.”
Dodging toes, trying not to hit anyone with her purse, she clambered after her cousin, who had already dropped into an empty spot right in the middle of the row.
The sense of being trapped built even as she eased herself into her seat.
Her cousin slid a hair band off her wrist and pulled her hair into a perfect tousled ponytail with a couple of twists. “Just relax. It’s going to be fine.” She flipped open her bulletin and scanned it. “Excellent. Josh is back.”
Sighing, Paige played along. “Who’s Josh?”
“One of the worship leaders. When he leads, it’s amazing. But he’s not here very often. He spends most of his time on the road with the band.”
Of course he did. Even she’d heard of Due North. Harvest’s worship band sold out concerts wherever they went. She’d owned one of their earlier albums before it had fallen victim to her megachurch merchandise purge. These days the band had to be raking in the money. Well, something had to pay for all this—the buildings, the stage set up, the professional lighting. It had to be worth millions.
The buzz in the room grew louder. Their tier was now full and she could hear, and feel, people moving overhead. There had to be three thousand people in here.
At exactly eight fifty-eight, the band walked on stage. She craned her neck to get a glimpse of all the components. A huge choir filled the back right, with musicians and vocalists taking up the rest of the space.
The buzz grew. Her hackles rose. What did people think this was? A rock concert? They were here to worship God, not be entertained. Finally, a lone figure walked into the stage, guitar slung across his torso.
Obviously
the famous Josh. Of course he had to come on last, the star of the show. He paused next to a female vocalist. Her caramel-streaked hair glinted under the lights. Was it the girl from the day of her interview? Paige squinted, but was unable to make out any distinct features. Finally, Josh made it to his own mic and plugged a cord into the end of his guitar.
He stilled, bowing his head as if in prayer. What a showman. After a few seconds, he raised his head and surveyed the crowd. There was something familiar about his stance, his profile. A tingle ran down her spine. He reminded her of the guy at the airport. She shook his head. Don’t be stupid, Paige. There had to be millions of tall Australian guys with dark hair.
“Let’s worship.” His voice echoed across the arena. The congregation stood as one as the opening bars to the first song boomed out.
Twenty minutes later, Paige still stood, confused. Beside her, her cousin stood, arms raised, singing her lungs out. All around her, other people did the same.
But none of the rest of it was as she expected. No flashy lighting, no dancers, no visuals on the big screens to keep people engaged. No shouting or people bounding around the stage, working the crowd into a frenzy. Just big black screens with the words to the songs. The room vibrated with an unbroken stream of worship. The arrangements clearly composed by people who understood music.
On the stage, the lead guy had stopped playing his guitar and had his arms raised as they entered into the second verse of Great is Thy Faithfulness. Around him, some musicians continued playing while others stopped and were just singing. As much as she wanted to think it was contrived to seem like they were being carried away in the moment, it seemed genuine.
As the song tapered off, Greg Tyler walked onto the stage and uttered a short prayer as the band and choir left the stage.
“Please, be seated.” His powerful voice echoed across the room. “The ushers are just going to take up the offering.” She braced herself. Here it came, the lecture on trusting God with your finances, giving generously to carry on the work of the kingdom, a task which required money. Lots and lots of money. Maybe even a heart-wrenching professional video of some worthy ministry that could do so much more with an extra few hundred grand.