Even If
Page 1
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
Acknowledgments
Publications
Even If
Bethany Riehl
© 2017 Bethany Riehl
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:
Facebook.com/BDRiehl
Cover Design by : Blue Azalea Design (http://www.blueazaleadesign.com)
Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE(R), Copyright (C) 1960,1962,1963,1968,1971,1972,1973,1975,1977,1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
ISBN: n/a (ebook)
ISBN-13: 978-1976239861
ISBN-10: 1976239869
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For Dad.
My encourager. My voice of reasoning. My hero.
Because of your love for Christ.
Because you cultivated that love in me from the start and always, always, always pointed me back to Him.
Thank you for loving me and consistently giving me a safe place to land when my flights were choppy.
And thank you for teaching me by example to sing in times of peace and times when the storms howled so near I thought I would be swept away.
I love you.
“The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.”
Matthew 13:44
Prologue
Lillian Rodgers toed carefully around a patch of ice on the sidewalk wondering for the dozenth time what on earth she was doing.
Who takes a long walk in heels in below freezing temperatures?
It was a rhetorical question, really. Because the answer was, a woman like her. A woman too numb in her soul to care about frostbite. One who wanted to avoid her home at all costs.
Lillian turned a corner and a biting wind slapped against her face. She tucked her nose into the thick, knitted scarf wrapped around her neck and reconsidered that last thought.
Was a frozen, drippy nose and wind-stung face really preferable to his presence?
Um, absolutely.
She passed the Red Feather Lounge, her favorite place in the summer to enjoy brunch on the patio, now bare of tables and chairs. Drifts of snow snuggled up close to the base of its brick exterior. The doorway for Bittercreek Alehouse was next. Lillian paused. Was it really over one year ago that she met Drew Mitchell in this place?
The memory worked over her in icy shivers. The company wide Christmas party for Treasure Valley Insurance Associates. The lonely corner table. Talking distractedly with women from the company who she’d met over the years. Offering to be their designated driver. The moderately handsome man joining her at the table. If ever she had wanted a do over…
At the time Lillian had been home from college for a year, but still couldn’t shake the shame and loneliness that had driven her home in the first place. While her friends drank and danced, Lillian nursed a Shirley Temple and babysat discarded coats and purses.
“You look like you’re selling something.”
His voice startled her. It was more on the tenor side of the scale than she liked. Lillian angled her head to get a better look at him. He had a nice, if not handsome, face. Blond hair cropped short. Thin lips. Charming smile. He gestured to the purses lined in a row and the coats piled on the chair next to her.
Lillian’s lips tilted to one side. “We work for an insurance company; when aren’t we selling something?”
He laughed at that and asked if he could sit with her. She shrugged, a noncommittal acquiesce.
“Drew Mitchel.”
“Lillian Rodgers.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked after they established what they did in their company—he, an agent, she, a receptionist—and where they did it—the corporate office in Eagle office for her, just up the street in Boise for him.
“No thank you. But…” she bit her lip. She really shouldn’t ask. She didn’t even know the guy.
His eyes tweaked with interest, probably from the blush creeping over her cheeks, and he leaned forward. “But what?”
She glanced around. Oh, well. She’d probably never see him again. “Can you stay here and watch the coats? I’ve had to go to the restroom for the last half hour and my friends don’t seem to be coming back any time soon.”
He blinked slowly before he bared his perfectly straight teeth in a smile. “Of course.”
When she returned, he’d ordered the beet hummus platter for them to share and they talked until Lillian’s coworkers were ready to leave. She thought of him all through the weekend, thinking they had a lot in common. In retrospect, realized the only thing they really had in common was their taste in music. Not exactly the cornerstone of a solid relationship.
The following Monday a bouquet of roses was delivered to her desk with a note from Drew asking her for a date. In her loneliness, she’d grabbed on tight to the promise of companionship, and readily agreed. Before she could blink, they were exclusive.
After eight months, Drew had convinced her to move in with him to save money. Soon after, the shine had worn off. Or maybe the root of loneliness that had never truly gone away was more prominent in the face of her deep shame and regret. Either way, she had to admit that the shadows of emptiness had haunted her heart long before today. And today had been crushing.
She blinked. The long-ago lights of that Christmas party dulled and ran together, trampled under the reality of what life with Drew—and apart from all that she wanted to be—was really like. And the images that now kept Lillian from returnin
g to the townhome she and Drew rented together struck her again—sharper than the wind, colder than the snow.
It all began with the maintenance man that had called Lillian just this morning.
“Miss Rodgers, the good news is, I finally got the part in I need for your heating unit, and I can repair it today around noon. The bad news is, if you can’t meet me today, you’ll have to wait until a week from Monday,” Tim told her, breathing heavily into the phone.
Lillian silently cheered. A massive snowstorm was headed their way and space heaters weren’t cutting it.
“That’s amazing news. I’ll call my, uh…I’ll call my roommate and see if he can meet you,” she blushed. Nearly two years out of Christian college, and she still hated to admit that she lived with her boyfriend.
“I tried calling him first, but his boss said he’s out for the day. If you can’t be there, I’m not going to be able to do it since we don’t have time for written consent.”
It wasn’t unusual for Drew to be stuck in meetings all day. That must be what Tim meant. Lillian’s eyes swept over her cluttered desk. It was Friday. Timecards were due and had to be finished before the end of the day. She didn’t want to take the time to drive home for lunch.
“Can’t I just give you verbal consent?” She could practically hear Tim shaking his head. His breath moved back and forth over the mouthpiece.
“Nope. The boss doesn’t do that anymore. Not after that crazy lady sued him a few years ago. She—”
“No, it’s fine,” Lillian interrupted. Tim had told her all about the crazy lady. Multiple times. She pinched the bridge of her nose. There went her lunch break. “I’ll be there.”
At eleven-thirty, Lillian promised her part-time desk partner, Roxanne, that she would return as soon as she’d eaten and let Tim into the apartment. She slid behind the wheel of her Ford Focus and drove fifteen miles to her house.
As Lillian turned into the parking lot for the quaint grouping of townhouses, confusion scrunched her brows low over her eyes.
Odd. What was her friend Hilary’s car doing here? Did they have plans for lunch? As Lillian eyed the red Mustang, realization struck. The bad feeling she’d had all morning punched her in the gut. Hilary’s sporty car was parked right next to Drew’s black Chrysler 300.
Lillian parked and shakily climbed out of the car. She followed the sidewalk with heavy steps, took a deep breath at the door, and then, with difficulty, fit her key into the lock. The trail of clothes—particularly the matching pair of saucy unmentionables crumpled in a heap at the threshold—leading from the entryway to the partially closed bedroom door confirmed her suspicion. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The door blurred. Lillian knew better than to push it open, but couldn’t seem to stop her trembling fingers from reaching out to brush against it. A familiar creak rode on the hinges as it swung inward.
It was just a glance.
Just two forms.
Just bare legs entwined.
Just the whisper of fabric as Drew sensed her presence and turned toward the door, face contorted in anger.
“What are you doing here?” He threw in an expletive for good measure.
Lillian blanched and retreated.
Just five steps out the door, twelve to her car, and fifteen-miles to the office.
It was just a glance…but it changed everything.
Somehow she had made it through the rest of the workday. Had ignored Drew’s texts. Had correctly entered and filed the information for the timecards. Had resisted the urge to go back and key Drew’s car. Not that she was that kind of person, but—given the circumstances—she could have been easily persuaded.
Now that the day was over, she wandered aimlessly past the shops, restaurants, and banks of Downtown Boise. But she’d stalled long enough. It was time to go home and pack a few things. She could spend the night at her mom’s, she guessed, and get the rest of her stuff later. Surely her mom’s friends could help her move over the weekend. And then what? For certain she would hear about it for months to come. Her family had never liked Drew.
Lillian sighed. For the first time that day her stomach rumbled with hunger. She opened the door to Bittercreek and made her way to the bathrooms. The tears had yet to surface, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Maybe once her face unfroze. Washing her face with warm water helped to revive her. As did the music—something sassy about never getting back together.
“Preach it, girl,” Lillian muttered under her breath as she exited the bathroom and walked the long hallway back toward the restaurant. An orange flyer on the community billboard caught her eye as she passed.
Historic Downtown Studio Immediately Available for Rent.
The address listed was for the apartments in the building next to Bittercreek. She tugged the paper free from the pin holding it to the board. A door squeaked behind her; someone else leaving the bathrooms.
“It’s like a sign,” Lillian whispered.
“Probably because it is a sign.”
A rich baritone, lilting with barely suppressed laughter, startled her. She turned toward the source. A man, a head taller than she, dressed in a hoodie, jeans, and Seahawks beanie was flashing a smile at her—full and charming.
“What?”
Lillian had just started to make out his face—square jaw, short beard, dark blue eyes—when he gestured to the paper in her hand.
He pointed at the sign, smiling good-naturedly. “You said, ‘it’s like a sign.’ And I just said that’s because it is a sign.”
“Well, yeah. Duh. I mean it is a sign, but I meant it like, well…” Lillian blushed. The cold must have numbed not only her face but her brain. Well, that and the searing images of her boyfriend in bed with another woman.
And, just like that, she lost it.
The tears she’d thought were gracious enough to stay away all afternoon had only been waiting for a more opportune time to humiliate her. Lillian tilted her head away from the man and blinked rapidly, but they came rushing forward. Her breath abandoned her next, coming in rasping gulps.
Pull it together. Take a deep breath.
The handsome man blurred and smeared. She wiped desperately at her eyes, wishing he would retreat as quickly as he’d come. Didn’t he have a table to get back to?
“Oh, hey, I’m sorry. I was just joking. Oh man, I’m a jerk.” His brows moved together, eyes crinkled in concern. He set a large hand on top of the beanie he wore and squeezed.
Lillian shook her head. “No. Just-just a bad day. I found out, I uh…I need to move.” She buried her face in one hand and waved the orange paper, still clutched in the other. “Hence the sign.”
“Well, I can tell you that’s a great place to live. I know the managers personally—they’re really fantastic. You should definitely check it out.”
She nodded, tears finally slowing. Unfortunately, hiccups rushed in to be sure to embarrass her, just in case the tears hadn’t done the job. They stood awkwardly a few seconds longer until he finally mumbled something about dinner and friends waiting, and then slunk off.
Lillian groaned. She leaned back against the wall, taking a few more deep breaths, no longer hungry. She looked at the flyer again, then folded it up and tucked it away in her purse. She would call first thing in the morning. For now, she pulled her phone from the pocket in her purse and dialed her mom.
Chapter One
“I’m going to miss you,” Lillian told Roxanne.
The other woman, just a few years older than herself, leaned forward to give her a hug. Her swollen stomach made it an awkward embrace, and they both laughed.
“I’ll miss you, too. But I have to admit, after the winter we had, I’m not too sad that my husband was relocated to Florida. White, sandy beaches and warm weather all year long—here I come.”
“So, I probably shouldn’t put a damper on things by talking about scorpions and alligators and hurricanes?” Lillian tilted her head, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
Roxanne looped
her purse over her shoulder. “Ha-ha,” she said dryly on her way out.
The rest of the day was relatively quiet, especially with Lillian alone at the front desk. Supposedly, a replacement for Roxanne was being transferred from another branch sometime that week, as well as a new office manager. Lillian didn’t think much about either new employee. Since her breakup with Drew, she’d become disillusioned with the insurance world, or maybe just bored with it. She itched for a change, but couldn’t pry herself away from the safety of her health benefits and cushion of a recent raise.
At 3:45, the front doors swung open, the late March afternoon sun shining in Lillian’s eyes when she looked up. She winced. How many times did she do that a week and still hadn’t learned? A dark figure came forward and stepped up to her desk. She blinked the dots away…and stared into the face of Drew.
“Surprise,” he said, lips twisted in a brash smile. “Looks like we finally get to work together, Lee.”
Lillian sucked in a breath. Work together? Her lip curled at his nickname for her. How dare he—
Mr. Finch’s thunderous voice boomed behind her before she had to answer.
“Drew, early as usual. Good to see you again. We’re about set up for the meeting. You can go on back and get settled. We’ll round everyone up and introduce you.”
A slow buzzing began to work through Lillian’s head and down into her ears. She fought to swallow past her dry throat. Drew winked at her—as if he had any right to—and steered around Mr. Finch.
Lillian worked past her thick tongue as Drew—Drew!—disappeared down the hall.
“Lillian, can you message everyone and tell them to be in the conference room in ten? And you’ll need to jot down minutes,” Mr. Finch said as he drummed on the top of the tall counter that wrapped around her desk. She began to nod, but stood quickly.
“Is that, uh…is that the new manager?” Did he notice the warble of her voice?
“Yup, that’s him. He’s joining us from the Boise office. See you in a few.”
“Wait, Mr. Finch?”
He turned partially around, mouth in a flat line. “Yeah?”
Her mind went blank. What could she say? Her dry throat and buzzing stomach weren’t giving her any ideas.