Happily Ever After: 6 Marriage Romances In 1 (BWWM Romance)

by BWWM Club

  She had left her job, packed up her apartment and said goodbye to a very well paying job and came back home to the little town she had called home for so many years. She had envisioned her return home so different. In her dreams, she had blazed into the little community in a fancy car with a husband in tow, maybe a doctor or a lawyer or even someone famous. She would persuade her father to come back with them and sell the house that had so many bad memories; the house where he had lost his wife when she was giving birth to their only child.

  Leah had gazed at pictures of her beautiful mother so many times that she had stamped every delicate feature in her mind. Her father had often remarked how much like her mother she looked and she found herself wondering if that ever made him resent her just a little bit. Not that he had ever shown her anything but love, but still she had often wondered.

  She had been in the middle of packing up her father’s stuff and sorting out what needed to be destroyed and what should go to charity. Daniel Brown had been a hoarder and Leah had found things that he had more than two decades ago. He had kept all of her mother’s jewelry, even some that had gone rusty with age; and had told her once that he was keeping them for her.

  She had left four years ago and she was surprised to realize that a lot had changed around the sleepy town. The name on practically everyone’s lip was Paul Maitland who had left to go make his fortune and return to build factories, apartments, a shopping center and had taken over the local church. He'd turned it into a ministry that was featured on television and radio. “Another person using the name of God to make millions, or in his case billions,” she had thought cynically. But in his case he had made his money before he came into the ministry and was actually putting the small town on the map.

  She had gotten a job at the local newspaper that had been pleased and eager to have someone with her qualifications and expertise working there. To her dismay she had been assigned to cover Paul Maitland and the work he was doing in the church and around town for a month. She had wanted to tell them hell no. But she needed the job and the income no matter how small. Her savings had depleted when her father had gotten ill and she'd had to send money to take care of his medical expenses. Her father was a retired school teacher and had been on a fixed income which had not stopped him from welcoming every Tom, Dick or Jane into his home for whatever there was to offer.

  The three bedroom house was immaculate and he had added a front porch, complete with a swing. She could just imagine him sitting on the swing in the twilight hours drinking his tall mug of coffee and staring out across the flowers and many fruit trees he had planted.

  She felt the tears coming to her eyes as she realized how much she missed his gentle reasoning and his kind heart. He had been completely committed to God even when she had refused to believe in a God who allowed so many bad things to happen to ‘good’ people; he had always told her that if it was God alone it would be a perfect world.

  The whistling of the kettle she had put to boil, broke into her reverie and she hurried into the large homely kitchen to turn off the fire under it. She foraged around in the well stocked pantry to see if she could find some can soup to go with the herbal tea she was preparing. She hated cooking and even though her father had tried to get her to learn and be interested in going into the kitchen, she had preferred to curl up in front of the television or sit in a corner with her head buried inside a book.

  With a disconsolate sigh, she placed the warmed up soup and cup of tea on the table and sat there staring around the room before she started to eat. The house was never going to be the same without him.

  *****

  Leah stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror critically. She had combed her shoulder length black hair that had a tendency to curl and wrapped it in a neat chignon at the nape of her neck. Her make-up was minimal; nude color eye shadow that highlighted her dark brown eyes with their flecks of gold and rose colored lip gloss. She had chosen to wear a dark brown jacket pants suit with a gold inside blouse, a tan spring jacket and tan pumps.

  Her assignment had been clear: Tail Paul Maitland for the month and document everything he did and get a story in the process; the editor in chief; Mary Gladstone who had grown up around town and had known her and her father for ages, had told her. It had taken all of her professional ethics not to tell the woman that the thought of tailing a billionaire was the last thing she wanted to do.

  With a bracing sigh she left the house and went out to her car, a cherry red Ford Mustang that she had bought a year ago, reminding herself to weed the garden as soon as she had a chance to do so. Her father would turn over in his grave if he saw the place like that.

  She knew the church or rather, she knew the former church, not this massive towering white structure that had replaced the small red brick church that had been there before. It was Monday morning and her appointment was at nine. As she parked in the huge parking lot, she could see the many different vehicles parked there and people going in and out of the office building.

  “I am sorry Ms. Brown but Mr. Maitland is running a little behind time and he asked me to make sure you are comfortable.” A middle aged woman said as soon as she entered the sumptuous foyer. “My name is Mary-Ann Whyte and I am his secretary here. Something came up just as he was on his way.” The woman was immaculately dressed in a black and white skirt suit and black pumps and she pushed the door open that led into a luxurious office well equipped with a fancy computer on a large well polished desk. The floor was beautiful polished parquet and the artwork on the walls were quite impressive. The woman indicated a plush chair in the corner of the room and asked her if she wanted anything to drink. Leah shook her head no and took out her lap top from the case and booted it up; leaving the woman to get back to work.

  She had not expected anything so fancy and modern as the surroundings she had found herself in; the word church office usually meant a utilitarian office with all the required amenities but nothing like this.

  She had been waiting for half an hour when she saw the woman picked up the extension with a smile and nodded, replacing the receiver. “You may go in now Ms. Brown. He just came in.” Leah looked up in surprise. She had expected him to come in from the front office.

  “Thank you.” She said politely and went to knock discreetly on the massive oak door.

  “Come in,” a deep voice said.

  She almost jumped out of her skin when she saw him just inside the doorway and was quite taken back by how tall he was. She had seen pictures of him in the papers and knew he was Caucasian with blonde hair and dark green eyes but the pictures in the papers did not do proper justice to his tanned skin and muscular frame. He was dressed in jeans and a black dress shirt and looked relaxed and confident.

  “Ms. Brown,” he extend a hand and clasped her small one in an enveloping handshake. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Please have a seat.” He gestured to one of the deep burgundy couches in the center of the room. His office was twice the size of the office out front and even though it was luxurious; it was strangely sparse with only the necessary things to make the office an office.

  “Where should we start?” he asked, taking a seat beside her on the couch.

  Leah hesitated a moment. She had expected that he would be seated around his massive desk, not seated beside her.

  “I want to get your background before I start with the different things you’re involved in,” she told him, squirming a little at his direct green gaze.

  “How about some coffee first?” he suggested and before she could decline he stood and went to get it himself from a credenza beside his desk. “How do you take it?”

  “A little cream and no sugar.”

  “I take mine black,” he told her with a smile that had dimples peeping out of his strong jaw. He brought the steaming cups over and handed her one.

  “Thanks.” She said with a nod. The first sip had her sighing in appreciation.

  “I love coffee so I have to have the very best. It�
�s one of my vices.” He told her with a smile.

  He was clearly not in a hurry and he asked her what made her choose the field of journalism.

  “I loved reading and telling stories and I was fascinated with the written words from when I was a child so the career actually chose me.” She told him.

  “Fascinating,” he murmured, putting his cup on a beautiful side table beside the sofa. “I was left in a home by my mother; I was told when I was a few months old. Fortunately for me the people who ran it were God fearing people so I had a good life and I was brought up to believe in the existence of a compassionate God. I left there when I was eighteen with a few dollars in my pocket; determined to make a living. I got a job in a computer store and found I was actually extremely good at it. I started saving every penny I made because I was determined to buy a store for myself. After that I was not content with just owning the store I wanted to do more so I created games to go along with it and the first one I sold made me millions.”

  Leah listened with interest, gaining new respect for this man who had made something out of nothing. “What made you go into ministries? Isn’t that a far stretch from computers to church?”

  He laughed gently, clasping his hands in front of him. “I renewed my commitment to God when I was twenty-two years old because it was always in me, even when I was determined to make money. Growing up in a home, I was determined to contribute to the lives of children in homes all over the country. I was blessed to have been in a home that was not half bad but I knew there were others out there that did not have the resources and man power to handle the many children dumped on their doorsteps. The staff are overworked and underpaid which makes for bad working environment so I gave back and I am giving back to a God who has blessed me so much and for that I am constantly grateful.”

  “You don’t believe that it is your sheer determination and hard work that got you this far?” Leah asked him, pulled in by his story.

  “Do you believe in a force stronger than us?” he countered, holding her gaze with his.

  Leah felt herself mesmerized by his direct stare and the fascinating green of his eyes. “I believe we make our own destiny and if we work hard enough we will achieve whatever it is we set out to do.”

  “You don’t believe that God has a part to play in all of that?” he asked her gently.

  Leah was not comfortable with where the questions were going. She was supposed to be the one interviewing him, not the other way around. And this talk of a God she had given up on was not something she wanted to do.

  “I don’t know,” she muttered, staring down at the cursor blinking on her laptop. “Have you ever tried to find your parents?” she asked steering the conversation back to the subject at hand.

  He looked at her reflectively for a moment and then he answered. “I found her as you know, just a year ago in a trailer park, drugged out and beaten by life and men and I put her in rehab where I visit her twice a week.”

  “And you have no resentment for her leaving you when you were a baby?”

  “I figured she did what she thought was best at the time.” He said philosophically. “She was not the better for it and I feel sorry for her and it is my duty as her son to take care of her.”

  “So you have forgiven her?”

  “God has forgiven us for so many things, who am I to do any less?” he turned to face her fully. “Who do you have to forgive Ms. Brown?”

  Leah looked up at him startled. “What?”

  “You obviously are battling with something. Who do you need to forgive?” He was looking at her seriously and contemplatively. Leah felt as if she was in the spotlight or being questioned for a crime she had committed.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she told him brusquely.

  “Of course you do,” he told her gently. “You’re bristling with anger and resentment and it’s coming through your pores. You are probably thinking I am some con artist using the word of God to make a living and all this is a sham. Am I right?”

  “Mr. Maitland I did not come here to be psycho analyzed; I happen to have a job to do and you’re preventing me from doing so.” She said tightly, ready to leave.

  “I also have a job to do Leah,” she looked at him startled as he said her first name. “Please call me Paul.” He told her with a grin. “Ms. Brown and Mr. Maitland sounds so formal don’t you think?”

  Before she could answer, his buzzer sounded and he got up to answer it. “Yes Mary-Ann?”

  “You have Deacon Blake on the line Paul.”

  “Put him through.” He turned towards her. “Please excuse me for a minute. We have media ministry just starting up and we are laying the groundwork.” She nodded as he picked up the phone. She used the opportunity to type up what he had told her and could not help but reflect on what he had said to her. Who did she need to forgive?

  “Where were we?” she was so immersed in what she was doing that she had not heard him come over.

  “We were talking about your mother,” she told him deliberately not reminding him of the trend of the conversation.

  He looked at her shrewdly for a moment and then nodded. “I don’t know who my father is and my mother probably doesn’t know as well and I don’t know if I am interested enough to find out.”

  She pounced on that like a dog with a bone. “I thought you had a thing about forgiveness,” she said triumphantly.

  “I never said I would not forgive him if he showed up and I can prove that he is my dad but I am not going to make the effort.” He paused. “Are you looking for something to prove that I am flogging a dead horse? I thought journalists were not supposed to be biased.” The last bit was said with a touch of derision and Leah felt herself feeling a little ashamed.

  “I am unbiased but I still have my opinion.” She said defensively, cursing herself for her lack of professionalism.

  “And your opinion is that the presence of God is some kind of a fairy tale and not worth visiting.” He was looking at her skeptically.

  “I don’t think that a good God would allow so many bad things to happen in the world.” She burst out against her will.

  He stared at her levelly as if contemplating his reply. “You don’t think that there is someone else responsible for all that?”

  “Like who? Satan?” she sneered. “Isn’t God supposed to be in control? The Supreme Being? If so why does he allow Satan to get away with all that?”

  “Because He is a just and fair God and even though he is in control, sadly the presence of sin does not mean the absence of God; it means the people have forsaken his love and are going their own way.”

  She sat there staring at him, not knowing what to say. She had come here with a chip on her shoulder, determined to get her story while remaining aloof but had gotten caught up in a debate about religion, the last thing she wanted to do.

  “I need to get back to the questions,” she muttered, looking down at her notes to avoid looking at him.

  “Sure you do,” he said with a knowing smile.

  *****

  Paul sat there in his office, a reflective look on his handsome face. She had left half an hour ago to get a tour of the building and he had sent her ahead with Pastor Leo while he finished some things he had to do in the office. He had seen how skittish she had been and how defensive she got at the mere mention of religion and how quick she had been to put it down.

  There were several things he had yet to tell her. How much he had avoided getting into a relationship because it would mean opening up his heart and even though he had been with someone in the past, he had steered clear because of what it entailed. He was honest in his relationship with God but apart from that he kept himself aloof from all other relationships. He wondered if he was being hypocritical and sincerely hoped not because he wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror and be satisfied with what he saw there.

  *****

  Leah found herself smiling as the middle-aged Pastor told her enthusiastically abou
t the outreach ministries they had going on.

  “Paul has done so much for the town that we thank God the day he set up roots here,” the man said with a benign smile. They had been touring the building for the past hour and she was impressed at the opulence and the comfort and peace she felt as she walked through the different rooms. There was a school at one section for the children who had been left homeless and a daycare facility for the members of staff which Pastor Leo told her ran to about three hundred or more.

  “He seems like he has done a lot since he has been here.” Leah commented.

  “You have no idea,” the man said enthusiastically.

  The sanctuary itself was huge with a beautiful raised dais, stained glass windows and rows and rows of velvet covered chairs. Leah found herself staring at the large sculpture depicting Jesus nailed on the cross.

  “That sculpture has me in tears sometimes,” the man commented and with a start, Leah realized that he was standing right next to her.

  “I see,” she murmured, not knowing what to say, not even sure that man expected her to say anything.

  “Thank God that is not the hope we have to hold on to; we serve a risen Lord today.”

  Leah excused herself hurriedly and went to find a bathroom. This assignment was not going to be easy.

  Chapter 2

  Leah stared at the wealth of information she had in front of her. The only good thing about the assignment was that she did not have to go into the newspaper; she could compile all the things at home. It had been a week since she had first started and she was supposed to go back there this morning at ten o’clock this time.

  Spending all that time with him had proved very interesting in spite of how she felt about the religious part of it. She had to admit she was having a good time writing his story.

  She had gotten up at a quarter past six in the morning and started to write the article. She made herself a cup of herbal tea and sat at her desk for a little bit, her mind not really on what she was doing. She had not finished sorting through her father’s stuff. She had been looking at the weeds in the garden and had started feeling bad about it.