A Lifetime with You
Ginny Sterling
For my darling husband <3
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Afterword
Also by Ginny Sterling
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
“Jumping Jehoshaphat!” Riley exclaimed, throwing back the covers and launching herself out of bed. Sliding on the floor, she gained her balance before slamming headfirst into a small table. She cursed the hot pink slipper socks she was wearing, instead of the fact she had not set her alarm. Riley dodged the pile of clothes and the high heels on the floor of her room as she scrambled to the bathroom. Thank goodness she didn’t have any roommates because they would have left her judging by the mess on the floor.
Riley Butler was a slob. A self-proclaimed, job-induced slob. She was never home to take care of her studio apartment in downtown Manhattan. Quite literally, all four hundred and ninety-five square feet of her apartment was covered in something. Whether it was a throw blanket, panty hose, or a variety of high heels, she lived in a chaotic pigsty that was the opposite of her corporate office. Riley had worked for years to get where she was today: a criminal defense lawyer serving the entire island of Manhattan. It was hard to get onboard, much less flourish. She did, however, but her home life paid the price.
She was damned good at her job. Riley spent hours digging for leads, searching for information, preparing dockets and listening to how everyone was innocent. She had a heck of a poker face and had to practice getting it. Watching horror movies out of the corner of her eyes and her reflection at the same time ensured that she would not flinch at the sordid details that came her way. It nauseated her to hear someone proud of their crimes, but it was the perfectly calm characters that chilled her to the bone. The self-proclaimed innocents that DNA pronounced them as guilty truly scared her. No, her job was to defend people with misdemeanor or felony charges. She had gotten into the field because she had once believed people were basically good at heart. Innocent people had been wronged and she felt it was her job to make sure the innocent person was freed. One massively huge flaw for Riley cropped up not long after winning her first case: she found out that he wasn’t innocent.
She would never forget that day. It was hot, humid and perfectly miserable. She had worn her newest dress suit and cherry red lipstick. Look brilliant and feel confident had been her motto and goal in the bold outfit. Her client had been accused of multiple murders, the slaughtering of his own family. This was simply abhorrent and made her skin roll at the accusation! Riley spoke with him, listened to him, and ran herself ragged for the man who swore his innocence. His act had been so convincing and complete that she had begun carrying tissues in her purse because when he cried, she cried. He was the reason she watched herself in the mirror. Looking back, she had been an open book for him to read and use. She had fallen for every sob story, listened to every cherished memory and fought intensely to win the case. Winning the case had earned her position in the firm and jaded her heart. When the verdict had been announced as “Not guilty”, the look on his face had been horrifying.
He was happy.
It wasn’t a “Hey, thank you, justice was served” kind of look. It had been an evil, jeering look that haunted her. Maniacal, sick happiness twisted his face into a leer that was sheer pleasure that he had done the deed but had gotten away with it. He showed her that he was guilty in that very moment and Riley threw up the moment she was alone. That brave, strong image she had wanted to portray was gone in that very moment. That day, while she won the case, she had lost her innocence.
Today would not be another one of those days! She had firmly decided from that despicable case on out, that this was work and her beliefs had to be kept completely separate from the law for her own sake. She would never advance her career or make it up to a judge if she was afraid of her client or scared of making a mistake. “Emotions out of it. Simply follow the evidence and let the jurors decide,” had become her motto from ever since that day.
This case would be no different… except she would be LATE! Her alarm clock did not go off. Neither did her phone or her Apple watch. It was the sunlight streaming in on her face where she had slept on the couch last night. She had been eating ice cream and watching the Hallmark channel, treating herself for all her hard work. The last month had been spent at the office each night after hours doing research. Frankly, she would be glad to be done with the case. It was a case of a suspected crime lord who was peddling drugs through the streets but not a shred of evidence was found other than two eyewitnesses who were sketchy to say the least. She would be surprised if they were still alive to attend the court date from the amount of needle tracks she had seen on their arms during the last questioning.
Racing around the apartment, she skipped her shower, knowing she had to drive her car to the parking garage. Riley used to take a taxi or the subway. But seeing her face plastered on billboards brought unwanted attention from some seedy folks in an uncontrolled environment.
Grabbing her grey linen skirt and white silk blouse, she dressed quickly. Riley twirled her hair into a tight bun. Hopping on one foot by the Keurig, she pulled on her stockings as the coffee brewed. Grabbing her makeup bag and a granola bar, she ran out the door. Feeling the brick paver underfoot just outside of the door, she quickly cursed as she glanced downwards at her bare feet on the brick. Opening her door, she realized she had forgotten to lock it as well as failing to grab her shoes. Bending down, she snatched up the first matching pair of shoes she could find and grinned. All her shoes were black. They just had different patterns on them. This pair was black patent leather with white wingtips, resembling a man’s dress shoe. She loved this pair and the shoes made her feel sleek and powerful wearing them. The four-inch heels combined with a pencil skirt provided a devastating effect that made her feel almost feral in the courtroom. Cool, lethal, “leave ’em stunned” by what you do. Yeah, she liked that effect and strived for it.
Riley slipped on the shoes. She walked out of the apartment and locked the door quickly. Then she walked to the garage and slipped into her Mercedes. Life as an attorney had its benefits! Fancy car, apartment in Manhattan, nice clothing all came with the title she earned.
Pulling out into traffic, she ignored the horn and the finger of the man in the car behind her. “Yeah, yeah. Fuck you, too, buddy,” she said aloud and whizzed down the lane. Turning onto Canal Street, she knew it would be about ten minutes before she got to the parking garage. Unfortunately, it was ten minutes before she was due in court! Yanking out her lipstick, she looked in the mirror, gliding on the rich russet color that complementing her skin tone. Glancing up, she came to a stop at the next light and carefully colored her eyeliner in while balancing the insulated coffee mug between her knees. Riley took a large sip of the hot brew and munched on the granola bar, trying to get it in her stomach as fast as possible. Checking her appearance again, she honked at the car in front of her to move.
“The damned light is green! Move it! Are you waiting for a blasted engraved invitation?” she yelled in the closed car. Leaning forward, she corrected her lipstick and honked again as the car had not budged forward one bit. Angry, she slapped at the steering wheel a few times and craned her neck to see what was blocking the way. Seeing nothing, she pulled out in the other lane in order to go around the car. Riley realized she hadn’t buckled up the moment
she came face to face with a set of headlights, seconds before everything went black in a cloud of pain.
The accident was bad, that much she was aware of. Riley was also painfully aware that she was probably dying. There was no movement in her body. She wasn’t sure if that was due to a lack of trying or simply because her chest was pinned between the steering wheel and the seat back.
She opened her eyes for a moment. The vision around her was hazy. But one thing caught her eye: the russet lipstick smudge on the shattered windshield. Chanel Rouge Angelique - her favorite color. It was the only color she ever wore since that awful day in court so long ago. She had ditched the bold red for a shade that complemented her skin, now in glaring stark contrast against the white airbag. The material of the airbag had the bronze smear streaked upwards that continued on the glass. The glass had broken into a billion tiny stars. However, it hadn’t collapsed in on itself yet. The bronze, kiss mark smear continued across the glass showing where her face hit. It hurt to breathe, but it hurt worse to yell for help. So, she didn’t.
Riley just sat there. She closed her eyes and prayed. She had never prayed a day in her life, but she was praying now. If you can hear me, I don’t want to die. All I wanted to do was to be successful, to be me. I wanted to help people. Please don’t let me die. She thought wildly and felt a tear stream down her face as she heard banging nearby. I can’t even look to see where it’s coming from, she thought. How sad is that? I want to help people and they are wanting to help me, but I can’t say thank you because I think my jaw is broken. I think everything is broken! Please, help me! she tried to yell and nothing came out but a shaky breath as her heart stopped.
Surging upward with a desperate gasp wrenching from her body, Riley felt herself slam back downwards into her physical body as if she were having a nightmare. Perhaps it was all a dream. She’d had dreams like this before where she had fallen off a ledge. Heck, she had once dreamed she fell off of a house. Dreams where she was falling out of control had been disturbing in the past, but this? This felt almost physical, like it really happened and wasn’t a dream after all. Too much junk food, maybe? She’d been extremely tired and the ice cream late last night had been a bit much. The treat was well deserved, but still over the top. Her aching body felt like it was clenching all over, as if a massive cramp extended from her pinky toes all the way up to her hairline. She hurt and was simply thankful that it had all been a dream. Laying there, she prayed it was a dream because she didn’t want to analyze how she came to be lying in the grass outside. Relax. Think of another location and place yourself there, silly she thought. Imagine a beach. Yes, a beach with waves and seagulls. A peaceful island breeze… until she heard a gunshot nearby.
Wide, green eyes flew open in the bright light and she winced at the sharp sound. This wasn’t sunlight streaming through her apartment windows, nor was it from an overhead lamp at the hospital. It was the hot summer sun blazing down on her. She caught glimpses of her surroundings as she blinked her eyes, slowly trying to acclimate to the brightness around her. She had seen the lipstick on the windshield in her dream and felt the steering wheel against her chest, but she didn’t remember hitting the grass on the side of the road… and someone seriously needed to mow their yard!
The tall, greenish-yellow strands waving in the bright light had to be well over a foot tall as she saw them swaying back and forth in the strong breeze that blew across her. Great, I got thrown from my car and here I am in some overgrown yard, knocked out! I bet my purse is long since gone! she thought. Shutting her eyes again, she took a quick self-evaluation to see what was broken in her body. She was absolutely certain that she had broken every bone during the accident, but this was strange. She felt whole. Sore, but intact.
Laying there, she wiggled her fingers as her hands lay in the grass surrounding her. Okay, they are working. Toes, you are up, she thought and tried to wiggle them. However, her tight dress shoes wouldn’t allow much movement. Huh, my shoes are still on? I would have thought they’d have popped off in the accident. Was there an accident? Confused, she extended one finger and moved her arm to touch her nose carefully, unsure if it would be injured. She tentatively touched it and, feeling the soft skin, gave her own nose a small tweak. Intact! What the hell is going on?
Hearing another gunshot, Riley flinched at the sound. Gunfire made her jump and she waited calmly for the sounds of chaos that came with it. Any moment now, there would be cop cars or ambulances…but none came. No whining engines, no honking, no blaring sirens. She could hear the wind rustling leaves, the swish of the grasses around her and the faint hum of life nearby. Perhaps I have gone deaf? “Hello?” she whispered aloud to no one. Not deaf, she could hear her own voice.
What was going on?
Leaning up slowly on her elbows, she could see that her tailored pencil skirt was a bit dingy from lying in the grass. However, she saw that her stockings had taken the brunt of the damage it seemed. Good riddance, if that was all that was hurt on her, she thought as she marveled at the single run in her sheer hose. Not even a scuff on her patent leather shoes! “What the fu-” she started to question aloud and bit her tongue as she noted the lack of buildings around her.
There was nothing!
Grasses, trees, a few rolling hills and, in the very far distance, the remains of what looked to be an old town. It reminded her of an episode of “Little House on the Prairie” by the appearance of all the wooden buildings. At that moment, she saw a wooden wagon drawn by a horse pass just on the edge of her line of vision as she stared at the buildings. Wagon? Rolling on a dirt road? Where were the asphalt streets? Skyscrapers? Cars?
Riley scrambled backwards quickly in sharp denial as the sight in front of her did not change, fade away or disappear. She glanced all around her, looking for an I.V. to be hooked up to her arm with some serious drugs flowing in her veins… but nothing was attached. She was whole, alive, alone and stuck in the middle of nowhere.
She stared stupidly at the buildings for several minutes, her mind racing. Phone! Perhaps her iPhone was nearby and she could track her location. This was nowhere near the courthouse. Maybe she was robbed? Mugged? Kidnapped? Teleported? She almost laughed aloud as she could feel herself grasping desperately at straws.
That was sci-fi stuff and the scene in front of her looked so far from science fiction it was unreal. Her stomach took that moment to growl and she impetuously put her hand over it to muffle the sound out of habit. There was no one nearby to hear her body’s request for food. She also had the urge to use the restroom and sitting in the grass was not going to get her anywhere near her immediate goals. She needed information, food, and a restroom. If that “village” (using the term loosely) was a reenactment just outside of town, there was bound to be something recognizable sooner or later. That had to be the only explanation there was.
Or the only one she was going to mentally allow herself for the moment.
Standing slowly, she cringed as her heel sunk into the soft, grassy area where she had just awoken. Correcting her immediate appearance had to be foremost because if she wandered into the village, they might think her injured since she didn’t have a mirror to check the rest of her. She knew her skirt was dirty. Looking down, she yanked off her stockings in the most unladylike manner. Slipping back on her heels, she gave a cursory tuck to her shirt and attempted to smooth her skirt. Removing the fastener from her hair, she twisted her locks around once more securing her hair into a tight bun on her head. Once she felt like she was presentable, she slowly made her way down the hill towards the village.
As Riley got a bit closer, she could see that it was an incredible reenactment. Perhaps it was an Amish village she had stumbled upon. The horses were carefully tethered in front of the buildings on posts. The dirt roadway had very few wagons upon it. What caught her eye were the costumes. Each man had a period piece on, complete with hat or a bearded face. The women were completely in costume in their roles. They stared at her with disbelief all over t
heir faces and she was beginning to feel significantly out of place.
“Honey, over here,” Riley heard whispered towards her. She turned to the warm, welcoming sound. A large woman waved her over from the doorway of the small building. “Tarnation, Child, you are about as naked as the day you were born,” she said fiercely and grabbed Riley’s arm forcefully once she was within arm’s length. “You can’t walk around like that! Your limbs are showing,” she said, scandalized.
“Let go,” Riley said calmly and pulled her arm free, rubbing it. “Just let me use your phone and I will be getting out of the way. Where in the hell am I, anyhow?” she asked dumbfounded as she stared at the meager contents inside of the wooden building.
“You’ll not use that word in this house,” the woman instructed, correcting Riley’s language immediately with a deep frown.
“My bad… I mean, I’m sorry,” she said simply, trying to get into character since it was obvious this woman was not breaking out of her role for any reason. “Perhaps I could use a phone? I’m lost.”
“I know not what you are asking,” she said simply and grabbed a well-worn quilt. Riley watched as the woman shook it out and began to put it on her shoulders.
“I’m not cold. I just need a damned phone,” Riley argued, pulling away from the blanket that was offered.
“I care not if you are cold, Child. I am trying to cover your exposed body from my eyes,” she replied sternly. Shock was written on her face at the lack of compliance from Riley.
Sighing heavily, Riley allowed the buxom woman to wrap the heavy quilt around her already warm body. “Can you help me or not, dammit?” she asked simply.
A Lifetime with You: Timeswept Soulmates Page 1
