“Yup, that’s my flight. How weird is that?”
“I personally think that God doesn’t make coincidences.”
“Are you a—you know—Christian?” Oh, lovely. She’d asked it like she was some atheist who was shocked at being in the presence of a believer. If he handed her a tract…
“Born and raised. And you?”
Could one really be born a Christian? Hm. Not in her denomination. “My parents were Christians, and I accepted God when I was pretty little.” Like, four years old. Sometimes it felt like she’d been born a Christian. It’s all she’d ever known.
And how far she’d fallen…
The landing wasn’t very pretty.
“Ah, we’re similar, then. You married?”
Oh no. If he hit on her…“No, just getting out of a relationship though.” And not looking for a rebound man with a potbelly who is probably old enough to be my dad.
“Gotcha.”
“What about you?” It seemed the appropriate thing to ask.
“Married for thirty years now.” He looked down at his cell phone and laughed. “That’s her now, wanting to know if I got a ride okay.”
He tapped a few buttons on his phone, and Hanna looked away to give him his privacy.
“That’s wonderful. She sounds very thoughtful.” It really was. Because if he did try to hit on her, it gave her permission to punch him on behalf of his wife.
They rode the rest of the way making inconsequential small talk. It was apparent he worked a lot and had little time for TV or anything to do with celebrities. What a nice change to chat with someone who didn’t have an opinion on what she’d done with her life.
He’d texted his wife a few more times during the ride.
Ugh. She was jealous. Even when she was with Will, he rarely took the time to communicate with her like that. And how dumb was that? She was jealous over the lack of text messages from her former fake fiancé.
He was probably too busy figuring out how to rig sales numbers to steal company money.
Once they were at the airport, Seth paid for the entire carfare, despite her insistence that she pay half. They stayed together and checked in, went through security, then sat next to each other at the gate.
They were about forty-five minutes early, and only a few others dotted the terminal.
After grabbing some keep-me-awake coffee, Seth folded his leg and propped his foot on his knee. “So, you said you were newly single. That why you were in Nashville?”
She sipped the hot drink, feeling it loosen her tongue. “Yes. We were giving it a go one more time, but it just didn’t work out.”
“He cheating on you or something?”
Ha. She probably would have handled that news better, honestly. “No. He—well, he’s a businessman, and I found out that he’d done some not-so-scrupulous things.”
“Yeah, that’s not good. I commend you for getting out now.”
Hanna pressed a finger to the side of her eye, willing the tears to stay in there, just until tomorrow. When she was home at the farmhouse, on her twin-size childhood bed, then she’d bawl her eyes out.
But not yet.
“It was…I loved him. I really did. But some things you just can’t forgive, you know?”
“Did you find out yourself, or did he get fired or something?”
“I had no clue. I’d have sworn he was innocent, but now that I look back…yeah. He didn’t have the greatest track record in the honesty department. I should have seen the writing on the wall, but he was just so…so charming. He could charm a fish onto a hook.” The picture of Will with that gigantic fish he’d caught popped into her mind.
Seth leaned toward her and placed a pudgy hand over hers. “Well, I’m sorry you had to go through that. But you seem like a bright young lady. You’ll be just fine.”
Hanna smiled as the preboarding flight announcement came over the intercom. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”
It actually made her feel just a little better to talk with someone. She had a date with her cell phone and a call to Carly once she got settled into her hotel room tonight, but this helped her stave off the need to talk until then.
And thankfully, no reporters had shown up.
Maybe God was looking out for her after all.
Will stood in his condo, his head pressed against the glass, watching people flit here and there in a rush to get to wherever they planned to go. Usually the sight exhilarated him, but today, he just didn’t care.
His dad had flown into town on Wednesday, and they’d spent the last twenty-four hours going over the auditors’ notes and brain-storming solutions.
Or, his dad had anyway.
William had been in a dense fog since Tuesday morning, when he’d come home to find that Hanna had disappeared off the face of the earth.
No amount of words could explain it to him. And even so, no words were given to him to try.
He’d come home at five in the morning, expecting to have a sleeping Hanna in his guest room.
Instead, he’d found nothing. She’d left without a trace, leaving only two half-empty water bottles on the counter and her diamond ring on his dresser where her coin used to sit.
The coin he’d treasured every day since she’d given it to him and he’d chosen to accept only hers.
Even when she’d first turned her back on him, albeit for good reason, he’d kept it right there as a reminder of what his stupidity had lost him and the cost of his arrogance.
But this time, he was trying to right his wrongs. Working his hardest to be worthy of her affection.
That night, sitting in his dark office, he’d realized he was in love with her. As crazy as it was, as undeserving as he was, she’d gotten into his heart during that stupid TV show and been there ever since.
William slammed a fist against the reinforced glass.
Now she was gone, and the pain might very well be the death of him.
At first, he worried a reporter had gotten in. Had she gotten scared and left? But her cell went directly to voice mail, and a phone call to her father had gone unanswered. He’d gotten ahold of Carly, only to receive a few unladylike words yelled in his ear and a phone slammed. So he doubted that was the case.
This week could officially go down as the worst one of his life. He’d lost his pride, his heart, and now, probably his job.
Couldn’t get much worse than that.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strode to his office and sagged into a leather chair, the one where he’d always said he did his best thinking.
Today, it took all his energy to conjure up a coherent thought.
He picked up a handful of files and was tempted to trash them. What did it matter? He did nothing wrong, but so far, even his illustrious father hadn’t been able to find a way to clear his name. All roads pointed to William. Even if he hadn’t been trying to commit fraud, he’d made some extremely stupid decisions.
On the latter, he could agree.
But fraud?
No way.
The only clear thing was…those same roads were wide and all but highlighted in yellow with sticky notes next to them saying “Hey, this is William, and I’m trying to cook the books, okay?”
No one was stupid enough to be so blatantly obvious about corporate fraud. But the board didn’t see it that way.
And William was destined for the unemployment line.
He wasn’t even sure if CEOs were eligible for unemployment compensation.
Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against the top of his desk. God must be punishing him. A cruel, cruel punishment for his desertion years ago.
God had just stayed quiet, biding His time until now to unleash His fury on William Preston.
What he wasn’t sure of was if he should repent or shake his fists at God for being so callous.
Repentance made him want to laugh. God had been the one in the wrong, not William.
But shaking his fists at God could incur more
wrath. He’d prefer the wrath to stop, actually.
Someone cleared their throat from the doorway, and William lifted his head to see his father leaning against the french door, eyes dark. “You’ve got yourself in a pickle, William.”
No, really? What had been the clue? “I know. I wasn’t ready for the big career leap. You’ve told me that a thousand times. If I’d wanted your opinion, I’d have asked for it.”
Harrison pushed off the door and walked toward the desk then stopped, arms folded against his broad chest. “Actually, I was going to commend you. I’ve been spending time looking through all those files you gave me. Looks like you’ve done a remarkable job. Some of the changes you implemented were nothing short of genius. Except, of course, the ones in question.”
Will shrugged, uncomfortable with the rare show of praise. “The company was headed for bankruptcy when I took over. Changes had to be made, one way or another.”
“I have a theory for you.”
Will nodded toward one of the office chairs. “I’m all ears.”
His father sat and folded a leg up over his knee. “I don’t think you were the only one framed.”
“Meaning?”
“Greg Kasinzisky. Your predecessor. I think someone set him up, too.”
That didn’t seem possible. The auditors had found proof going back over fifteen years, which coincided with the gradual decline of the over hundred-year-old company. It had been subtle and started before the whole accounting debacle of Enron and the implementation of SOX audits. Even they hadn’t caught it, though. The clever maneuvering of funds had been nothing short of genius on Greg’s part, if not horrifically illegal and unethical.
The man had maintained his innocence and, to date, hadn’t been officially arrested and charged with fraud, but the prosecution was still gathering information for their case. They were taking their time, making sure they had all their ducks in a row before they actually filed charges. From what Will understood, it could still be up to another year before it was done and Greg was in jail.
“Dad, that’s crazy. The two scenarios are completely different. And Greg has all but admitted his guilt.”
“Call it an educated gut feeling.”
Will mulled the ridiculous idea over for a moment. It was crazy but not entirely impossible. “Any educated guesses on who would have done it?”
His dad unfolded his legs, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees. “Who is the one person who was there that long, who has access to everything, and who would have a vested interest in getting both you and Greg booted from your job?”
The answer was as clear and logical as if someone had flown a plane across the sky, a trailing sign billowing in the wind emblazoned with the man’s name on it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Hanna had grown up surrounded by snow almost eight months out of every year. In fact, she’d been born at home during a blizzard.
But right now, as she stood at the front window inside the quiet farmhouse, she despised the white, irritating flakes that drifted to the ground and accumulated at a crazy pace.
Mostly because it reminded her of the blizzard that had brought William back in her life again. And everyone knew how that had turned out.
Five days. Five very long days since she’d flown home. Her dad had welcomed her as she’d known he would. Lots of soup and hugs and grunts about how his shotgun would come in handy should that young man decide to show his face up here again.
Not that he’d ever shoot anyone. At least not on purpose.
She hoped anyway….
Letting the lace drape drop back over the window, Hanna stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets and walked into the kitchen.
Memories of spilled mayonnaise and William lifting her up in the dark pricked at her.
This wasn’t good at all. The thought of William should disgust her, but her heart rebelled. Even her lips had a mind of their own, aching when she thought of their last kiss.
She grabbed her Bible off the kitchen table and walked back into the living room. She clicked the TV off and settled onto the couch, her feet tucked beneath her.
Her fingers caressed the familiar leather cover then turned the pages, her gaze skimming over passages she’d been spoon-fed with since birth.
What a fraud she was.
She’d gone on that stupid show, determined to keep her faith intact. Maybe even show the world that Christians weren’t all that bad.
It was almost laughable now. Christians hated her. The world laughed at her. And God…
She wasn’t even sure God wanted to lay claim to her soul anymore.
What a lovely mess she’d made.
A beating thudded on the front door followed by the sound of it opening. A rush of frigid air swarmed the first floor. Hanna set the Bible aside and hugged the thick, cable-knit sweater closer to her.
Carly stood in the entryway looking like a stuffed snowman in her flake-covered parka and holding a large grocery bag. “I brought a ton of chocolate, because by the looks of this storm, I might be stuck here tonight.”
“Thanks for coming in this.”
“You send out an SOS and best friends come running, snow or no snow. It’s the rule, you know.”
While Carly spread out her gifts from heaven, Hanna added another log to the fire in the wood-burning stove and prodded it with the poker, relishing the heat the burning timber gave. Which just brought back another memory of William, looking at the stove as if it were a mass of metal from outer space. Heating a house with wood had been this hilarious oddity to him. Made perfect sense to her now having seen the fireplace in his condo that needed only the push of a button to ignite the cutesy little flame that would barely melt snow, much less heat a house or cook a fish.
And she could cook a mighty nice Northern on this stove.
Plopping down on the couch next to where the queen of chocolate had curled up, she snagged a handful of M&M’s and popped a few in her mouth. “I needed this.”
Carly picked up the Bible from the coffee table. “A little light reading this afternoon?”
“Not hardly. Just sitting here holding it made me feel like a fraud. It’s been months since I’ve even cracked it open.” Not to mention the last time she’d honest to goodness sat down and prayed. The quick “Don’t let me screw up while I go do my own thing” prayers didn’t count, she assumed.
“So, what? You’re feeling guilty?”
Hanna tucked her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. “You know all those notes I got?”
“The ones I told you I’d happily burn for you?”
“Yeah, those. And all the people on Facebook and the like. I always thought they were sanctimonious jerks who meddled with other people’s business so they could conveniently ignore the giant tree stumps lodged in their own eyes.”
Carly shrugged. “Sounds about right to me.”
“I’m starting to think they were right.” An M&M slapped her on the cheek. “Hey!”
“They weren’t right, and you know it. How could you even say that?”
The mistakes she’d made in the last year stood out in her memory like giant red stamps that read FAILED. “Nothing has gone right. I’ve made stupid decision after stupid decision. I’m a fraud, Carly. I went on there thinking I’d be this glaring light for Jesus and all I’ve done is brought shame. God probably hates me right about now. I just wish I could make it right. But everything feels so empty now.”
“I won’t argue about your guilt, even though I think it’s a little misplaced. We all screw up though. I mean, seriously. Look at Peter.”
Hanna frowned. Was Carly dating someone she didn’t know about? She’d been MIA for a while but…“Who’s Peter?”
Carly rolled her eyes. “Uh, the apostle? Jesus’ right-hand man? Guy who tried to walk on water? If you’ll remember, he screwed up, too.”
Oh. That Peter. “What does the apostle Peter have to do with me?”
“
Let’s see, if I remember right, Jesus forewarned that he’d deny Him, but Peter said, uh, yeah, no I won’t. Then he was even big and bad and chopped off a guy’s ear trying to defend Jesus. But when it came down to it, he denied he even knew Him. Three times. He left, I’m sure, feeling like a total failure. Then what does Jesus do? Gives him a second chance. I think there are a lot of parallels. You had a lot of good intentions going into The Price of Love regardless of how wise or unwise it was. You totally maintained your witness, despite what some people might say, even if you weren’t always perfect along the way. But I think maybe where you went wrong was hiding when the pressure got high. You got scared and snuffed out your light so no one would look at you and hurt you anymore. You gave them the power to wound you instead of seeking the One who had the power to rescue you.”
“So, what? I should have just taken off my sword and sliced off all their ears?”
Carly snorted. “No, but I might have. Seriously though, what’s that verse about a gentle answer turning away wrath?”
Years of Bible memorization in Sunday school kicked in. “Proverbs 15:1. ‘A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.’ ”
“Yes, that’s it. Instead of hiding from people, or even, as much as it pains me to say it, shaking your fists at them, maybe the right answer was to respond with a gentle, truthful answer. Does that sound too cheesy?”
Hanna pressed fingers to her eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall again. “Not cheesy at all.”
She closed her eyes, blinders falling off and the reality of her mistakes so clear it was like they were highlighted in yellow marker.
She’d hidden instead of standing up for herself. But—fighting back with anger, like she really, really wanted to do, wasn’t going to solve a thing.
Had Will been a jerk and made a huge mistake? Oh yeah.
Had the world laughed at her and made fun? Check.
Had Christians totally come out to flog her in a self-righteous, indignant attitude? Definitely.
Well, actually, not all of them, now that she thought about it. She’d gotten quite a few e-mails and notes of encouragement. But the others were the ones that rang in her memory.
The Engagement Plot Page 22