“Adam, the doctor.” He smiled as if he’d won an Academy Award. “Now I have a name. You could think more clearly if you rented or bought my condo. The view alone will sell you, and I’ll make you a deal you can’t refuse.”
Combatting the conflicting thoughts raging through her mind, she simply nodded.
“A nice property in Malibu for a good price is unheard of. I’ll have the details and a price sent to you.”
“I like the area, but I haven’t talked to my boss or Adam. Besides, I won’t buy the first condo I see. I have to research property values and all.” She met his eyes straight on. “You know if I buy it, I’ll change the locks. And my brother, Mark, works for the FBI.”
“Once you do your research, you’ll see that I have what you need.” One side of his lips lifted into a smirk. “You are quite a challenge, Ms. LeClair.”
A cone of silence would be nice right about now. She fought the urge to return with a sarcastic comment. A knock sounded on her door, and Juan poked his head in. “I am sorry to disturb you, but the president of the board of directors for the Guatemala Charity Clinic wants a conference call with you and Dr. Rodriguez in ten minutes. I alerted Dr. Rodriguez, and he is available. Are you?”
Thank goodness. “Yes, thank you. And Juan, I’d like you to listen in and take notes, please.”
Juan nodded and closed the door.
“You’re kicking me out?” Dylan feigned injury, his hand over his heart.
She caught her lip between her teeth. Hmmm. Wouldn’t it be great to have someone like Dylan bring attention to the clinic? “Actually, stay and listen. You could be a part of something incredible.” She explained the dengue fever research and the planned clinic in Honduras. Her best pitch hit the mark. Dylan Conner, one of the so-called “hottest men alive,” agreed to become a part of Clinic Miguel’s Hope.
~~~
After the conference call ended and Dylan left, Sarah Beth pulled a chair to Juan’s desk. “I’m interested in getting my own place, maybe in Malibu. Could you put together some places and numbers for me? I’ve written my price range on this card.”
“Of course.” His eyes searched hers. “Are you praying?”
She dropped her head into her hands. “Every time I’m alone, whether I’m in my car or the shower or jogging, I’m crying out to Him. It hurts too much to think of being without Adam, but I know I have to put space between us, and put God first. I finally realized how much I miss God’s presence and how much of His time I’ve wasted running after things that won’t satisfy.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Oh, how He loves you, Sarah Beth. He has a plan for you. Every mistake and every bit of pain you have been through, and will go through, God can redeem, if you will let Him. I prayed for you and was reminded of a verse in Isaiah that says He will ‘give beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.’”
“Beauty for ashes. That sounds comforting.” She pulled a tissue from the box on Juan’s desk and wiped her face. “I appreciate your prayers. I plan to continue visiting your church. When I find my own place, I’d like to find a church home nearby, so I’ll have fewer excuses to skip out.”
“That is an answer to my prayers and your brother’s as well.”
“Have you two been talking about me again?”
Juan laughed and held up his hands. “No comment.” His face became serious. “There is something I want to talk to you about.”
“Sounds ominous, but all right.” If he was resigning or something, that might send her over the edge.
“This trip to Guatemala, I feel led to go. I am not sure if I can afford the expense, but I must.”
Of course he wanted to go. She delighted in this good man. “You know, I’ve been practicing my Spanish, but I’m not sure I’m sufficiently fluent yet. I’ll probably need to bring along my translator.”
He grinned. “Thank you. You will not regret it. Now, tell me more about this dengue fever and the safety precautions I will help to organize.”
“Dengue infection is a leading cause of illness and death in the tropics and subtropics. It’s spread by certain mosquitoes. Last time I checked, the disease affected up to four hundred million people yearly. With no cure or vaccines to prevent infection, I’m thinking we need a ton of bug spray, mosquito netting, and those clothes that have the built-in insect repellent.
“You’ve no doubt heard me talk about this before, but at the hospital, we fund research and development for a vaccine and a cure. The clinic is a separate entity—Adam’s way to honor his friend Miguel in his home country. We want volunteer doctors and nurses to travel down for a week at a time to see patients while we keep a nurse practitioner on-site full-time.”
“Will you have a chapel?”
“I haven’t thought about that. Let’s see how the clinic in Guatemala works and go from there.” She released a pent-up breath and stood. “Next, I need to talk to Bill about work changes I’m planning. Pray for that, too.”
“You know I will.”
On the way down the hall, she practiced what she’d say. Bill’s door was open, and he smiled as she approached. No turning back now. “Bill, can you set aside some time to talk?”
“Now’s as good as any. Come in. What’s going on?”
Sarah Beth sat with her hands in her lap. This could work. Be firm. “Four proposals I need you to endorse. One, this would be the perfect time for me to make that trip to Paris to call on the accounts. Two, I’d like to move to Malibu and work two days a week from home on creative projects, leaving Juan in the office to manage operational issues. Three, soon after I return from Paris, I’ll be going on the trip to Guatemala to work on the mission you’ve heard me talk endlessly about since I came here. Four, I want to have the authority to pick and choose which products or projects I represent. No more seedy commercials, R-rated movies, that kind of thing. I want to represent companies and products I consider wholesome.”
Bill sat forward and tapped his fingers on his desk. “So, little Sarah Beth is finally taking control of her life.”
“No, I’m finally giving up control and giving it back to God.”
“You know we don’t want to lose our creative genius. I’m surprised it’s taken this long for you to realize you could ask for most anything as long as you stay with the company. I don’t have a problem endorsing any of those requests, and I may go with you to work the Paris accounts.”
“You should bring Carol. You said she wants you to spend more time with her. I could bring Jill along. I’ve been trying to find an opportunity to train her more extensively. She could do so much more than what she’s doing now. She’s a smart girl.”
“I’ll talk to Carol tonight. Get Juan to make the travel arrangements for us as soon as possible. I don’t know how you found such a good assistant.”
“Trust me, it was a God thing.”
~~~
“This is amazing.” Jill twirled around as she walked across the bridge over the Seine River. “It’s everything I imagined.”
Watching Jill’s exuberance over her first trip to Paris was a hoot. Bringing her along had been a blessing.
Carol gave Sarah Beth a hug. “I’m loving this journey, too. You and Jill are great travel buddies. This must’ve been your idea.”
“Bill said he wanted to spend more time with you.”
Carol gave Bill an appreciative look and took his hand in hers as they walked.
For Sarah Beth, Paris was a welcome reprieve from the decisions to be made back home. She rose early and strolled by the river before the others woke up each day. Taking advantage of the solitude, she prayed for clarity and wisdom. For Adam, too.
On the last night, they celebrated their successful meetings with dinner in the heart of the city. Bill looked over his empty plate. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m going to miss the food h
ere.” He turned to Carol and gave her a longing look. “Among other things.”
Carol blushed. “Bill, not in front of the children.”
Snickering, Sarah Beth rubbed her stomach. “I love traveling. There must be some kind of tour where I could eat my way through Europe.”
“It’s great here, but—” Jill rolled her eyes. “I’ll pay for it with extra spin classes to work this off my waistline.”
Sarah Beth frowned. “You’re thin, blond, and beautiful. You should relax a little.” She turned to Bill. “On another note, sorry about that account I passed on, but her clothes were...”
Bill gave her a knowing look. “I understand. Her clothes, if you could call them that, were against the new Sarah Beth morality policy. I think I’ve placated her, though. Toby Ackerman will handle her account.”
~~~
Sara Beth whispered, “Shh, I think I hear him coming.” As Juan rounded the corner carrying a stack of papers, she pushed Jill out from behind the door and yelled. “We’re back. Did you miss us?”
Papers flew up from Juan’s arms then fluttered back down around them. “Leaping Amazons. You are early.”
“That was hilarious.” Jill plopped down at her desk, giggling. “We really scared you.”
“You did.” Juan laughed. “Would you like me to drive you ladies home so you can rest? I sense jet lag.”
“And delirium. Call Jill a cab. I have to stay and catch up. If I need to, I’ll shut the door and rest on the couch.” After Jill left, Sarah Beth went through the work on her desk and her email. “Juan, can you update me?”
“Of course. And I have a list of properties for you to consider.”
Sarah Beth scanned the numbers. “These condos are so much more expensive than the one Dylan Conner is selling. I need to go see the place for myself. I wonder if they could fit me in today.”
“You should rest. You will be too tired to drive all over the West Coast.”
“I’ll ask the agent to drive me. I have to find a place as soon as possible.”
A quick call, and the agent was more than willing to pick her up. No surprise, given the commission. Dylan insisted on meeting them.
The place was modern—open and airy. Bigger than the little studio she shared with Adam. Her gut twisted as she toured the two bedrooms. The thought of being alone...
In the living area, the sunset over the Pacific provided a spectacular backdrop through the west wall of windows. The deck outside would make a great place to pray and think. Maybe this would work.
“I couldn’t have timed this better.” Dylan motioned toward the glass. “The sunset alone should sell you, but I told you I’m giving you a fantastic deal. I want someone to have this place who will enjoy it as much as I did.”
Sarah Beth raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure anyone could fill your shoes on that one.”
“I did have some good times here.”
“Your price is the best value I’ve found. When could I move in if I decide to take it?”
“I could give you a key tonight. I trust you. We’ll work out the financing and contract later.”
“I won’t be financing.”
“Smart, pretty, and independent—what more could a guy want?”
She held up her index finger and pointed at him. “I’m only buying the condo. We’re straight on that, right?”
“A guy can dream, can’t he?”
“You could win an Academy Award for all that hot air you’re blowing.” She motioned around the room at the neutral, California-style décor, including two sofas and a few club chairs. “What about the furniture in here?”
“You can use it. I kept it for guests.”
“I may do that for a while.”
Dylan took her hand. “It’s a done deal then?”
Was she really doing this? Leaving Adam to live alone? She mashed her eyes together and took a deep breath. “I may live to regret this, but yes.”
Chapter 20
Gingie’s howl charged into Sarah Beth’s thoughts and brought her back to the present. “You want me to take you for a walk, girl?” She pulled the leash from the hook by the door and clipped it to the collar on the puppy that now seemed a foot taller than she had the week before. “Remember, Gingie, I’m the leader.”
Gingie forgot.
Sarah Beth sprinted down the sidewalk trying to keep up. A tap on a car horn shot her head around. Jess passed, waving and laughing. Impeccable timing, as usual.
The puppy slowed. Finally. Sarah Beth plodded back to the house. A heavy-set gray-haired woman stretched across her porch swing.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“I’d love for you to help me.” A familiar man’s voice emanated from the woman’s mouth.
Sarah Beth blinked hard, her mind attempting to make sense of the situation.
“Is that any way to greet a friend and client from out of town?” the masculine voice asked.
Either she’d lost her mind or... “Dylan? Is that you?”
“Priceless.” Dylan bent over and snickered. “The look on your face. My disguise to get here without the paparazzi—clever, right?”
“Weird.” She took a seat in the rocking chair.
He brought his legs to the wood floor and tugged at his skirt. “Aren’t you going to ask me in or something?”
“I don’t have men in my house alone. Even men dressed as women.” What was he doing here? Unannounced. “Can I get you some tea or something, Aunt Bee?”
“Aunt Bee? I look way younger and a mite prettier if you ask me.”
She would laugh, but this could be a big problem. “Didn’t. Where are you staying?”
“Can’t stay here?”
“Let me think about it. No.”
“I like the way you handle your clients with kid gloves.”
He thought he could just show up and stay in her house? “You don’t have a reservation at a hotel?”
“I looked up your address on the Internet and saw that you have a pool house.”
She pushed back the urges to slap his face and to laugh. He was funny. Like a big kid. A naughty kid. “What if it was a storage shed?”
He cocked his head and smiled. “Is it a storage shed?”
That wig. His dress all puffy with who knows what. A laugh escaped her throat. “Are you wearing that costume the whole time you’re here?”
“Actually, I’m getting tired of it. Pantyhose are the worst.” He wiped his brow. “Especially in this humidity.”
“Hose? I don’t know how long it’s been since I forced a pair of those on.”
A pout formed on his lips. “Not all of us can have smooth legs like yours, sister.”
His voice was the perfect imitation of an old Southern woman.
She sighed. “You are quite an actor. What am I going to do with you?”
Dylan took off his wig and gazed at her. “That’s what I want to know.”
“Let me make a couple of calls.”
Ten phone calls later, she’d given it her best shot. Every reputable hotel in the area was booked with the writers convention in town. “The pool house is small. I have friends with beautiful homes who would love to put you up for a few days.” And he wouldn’t be in such close proximity.
Dylan batted his eyelashes. “I bet there’s plenty of room in your pool house for little old me.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back. Wait here.” Not wise, but she wouldn’t send him packing. Yet. What if the press saw him? Or crazy fans? Or Jess? She dug the keys from a drawer in the laundry room and trudged back out the door. “Here. There should be towels and everything you need to freshen up. Unless you need some makeup remover?”
“Very hospitable of you, ma’am, but I brought my own.” He winked, took the keys, and then strutted down the sidewalk to his rental car. “I’ll text you when I’m ready for you to take me out and show me the sights.”
“Please wear a different outfit. Something casual. And male.”
“Yo
ur wish is my command.” Collecting a backpack, he disappeared into the backyard, and Sarah Beth composed herself for an evening entertaining one of America’s most popular stars.
~~~
A guttural growl emanated from Gingie, and the dog tore out of the bedroom. A loud crash down the hall sent Sarah Beth jumping from her dressing table. She sprinted into the living room. “Whoa, what’s going on, Gingie? Slow down.”
Dylan stood near the back door, wearing a hippie wig and fake mustache, the oversized puppy on her hind legs, hanging from his sleeve. Snarling, the dog showed her teeth as she held on. Dylan waved his other arm in the air. “I give up. Don’t eat me.”
Sarah Beth clutched her stomach as a laugh erupted. She hadn’t laughed that hard in more than a year. A tear ran down her cheek as she took in the spectacle.
“So...help me already.”
“I’m trying. I can’t breathe.” After carefully removing the growling dog, she crated Gingie, caught her breath, and returned down the hall. “Are you and your shirt okay?”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes.
“I wish I had that on video. The stunned look on your face and that fake mustache. I’m sorry. That’s never happened before. Who knew she had it in her to be a guard dog?”
“I think you mean bizarro attack dog. You told me you had some rule about men in the house, but you didn’t say it was dangerous. I knocked, but you didn’t answer, so I stepped inside.”
“You were supposed to text me.” She waved him out of the house. “Let’s go, or we’ll be standing in line forever.”
“Where are we headed? A bistro or a club with dancing?”
Her mouth twitched into a smirk. “It’s a little old store out in the country that makes the best fried catfish and hush puppies you’ll ever taste. If we don’t get there early, the line will be down the street unless I can call in a favor.”
“That sounds...different. I’ll probably fit right in with this costume.”
She prayed no one recognized him.
As promised, a line snaked out of the rugged old store. Hungry hopefuls sat in rocking chairs on the long wooden porch and on tailgates around the dirt parking lot. Every sort of attire could be found, from overalls to business suits.
Leaving Oxford Page 12
