He felt alive again for the first time in a long while, and he resisted the urge to whistle as he turned the last corner to his office. Once inside, he slipped into the bathroom, slicked back his hair and checked himself in the mirror before he posed casually against his desk, anxious to hear her praise for the wonderful production, her apology for insinuating that his church wasn’t preaching the real gospel, and maybe even—dare he hope—her willingness to consider leaving her church to attend his.
A knock preceded Tank ushering her inside. Then after giving Daniel a nod, the bodyguard left and closed the door. Daniel had instructed him to not allow anyone else inside. He wanted tonight to be special. He wanted to talk with her like they used to and then take her out to dinner. A stunned expression claimed her features as she glanced over his office. “Wow,” was all she said.
He took that as his cue. Gathering the dozen roses and gardenias on his desk, he held them out to her, awaiting her delighted expression.
Instead, she folded arms across her chest, cocked her pretty head and said, “You can’t buy me, Daniel.”
A sledgehammer to his heart would have felt less painful. He forced a mask of nonchalance. “Not trying to.” Setting down the flowers, he approached her, swallowing his pride and hoping to start again. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward his couch.
She didn’t move. “You have no right to assign a bodyguard to me without my permission.” Her eyes were green ice.
This wasn’t going well. Turning, he began fingering paper clips on his desk. “Tank? He’s harmless. Besides, you should have told me about that car nearly running you down.”
“Why is it any of your business? And why are you calling my son?”
Turning, he leaned back against his desk and gripped the edge. “In case you haven’t noticed, Angel, I care about you. This is a dangerous world, and I don’t want to see you harmed.”
She sighed and glanced around the room. “I appreciate that, Daniel, I do. But it is still my life, and you can’t just intrude in it whenever you want.” She fingered her necklace and gave him an angry glare. “I realize you are the big cheesemo here, but you hold no power over me.”
Ouch. Daniel took a minute to recover, watching his dreams for the night shatter into a million pieces. When he found his voice, all he could say was, “I don’t want to lose you.”
His admission seemed to weaken her defenses as she sank onto the couch. “Listen, I know we had a thing once. I know we kissed at the park, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It meant something to me,” he said, wondering how many more punches he could take.
Frowning, she looked down. “Call off your bulldog, please.”
He pushed from his desk, collecting what was left of his pride. “You got it.”
“And please don’t speak to Isaac without my permission.”
He stepped toward her, frustration rising. “Hey, he called me after the car incident. He’s worried about you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would he call you?”
“I asked him to if he needed anything. Sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I had no right. You know me—I can be a bit pushy.”
“You think?” Finally, he got a smile out of her.
Tentatively, he sat on the stool across from her. “Am I forgiven?”
She eyed him and shook her head. “Sure, I guess.”
“Then, let me make it up to you and take you to dinner.”
Chapter 20
Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.
1 Corinthians 6:9-10 (KJV)
What was it about Daniel Cain that broke down all her defenses? Even when she was angry with him! The last thing Angelica intended was to have dinner with the man. Yet here she was, walking along the beach as the sun set over the everglades, her stomach full of fresh crab legs and hush puppies, and her heart leaning far too much toward this man. Of course, Daniel had ordered the Caesar salad—the only healthy item at the little crab stand he had taken her to. Or, rather she had taken him to, turning down his invitation to one of the best restaurants in town.
“It’s the simple things in life that are the best,” she’d said as they sat at a small table in front of the shack to eat.
He’d asked her then about the play. Had she enjoyed it? What were her thoughts?
Avoiding an argument, she told him how magnificent the church was, how beautiful and large and ornate and well decorated. And his office…better than the Oval Office.
At this, he laughed.
Yet now, as they walked side by side, shoes in hand, their bare feet sinking into the moist sand, he grew pensive and asked her what she really thought about the play and his sermon.
“The play was exceptional, Daniel. Professional and entertaining. And you’ve always been a great speaker.”
“But…”
“But nothing.” She stared at a sandpiper picking up a French fry from the sand.
“I know you too well. There’s more.”
They wove between a group of kids building a sand castle as Angelica chose her words. “It was all fluff, good will, hope, happiness. That’s all great and nice, but people need to hear the entire truth. They need to hear how to be saved, truly saved, and that the Christian life is not easy. It’s one of sacrifice and sometimes suffering and denying self.” She sighed and looked up at him. “You didn’t even mention Jesus.”
He growled and dug fingers in the back of his neck. “Of course, I mention Him. Just not in every sermon.”
“But this was an outreach, wasn’t it?”
He kicked the incoming seawater, shooting foam into the air.
“I’m sorry, Daniel. You asked, and I can’t lie to you.”
“No, I value your honesty. Or I thought I did.” He gave a sad chuckle. “But I’m glad for it. I could always count on you to tell me the truth.”
She hated that she had disappointed him, but flatteries served no one. A wave crashed toward them, and he took her arm and drew her out of its path, giving her an idea. Perhaps if she skirted the issue and just got him to talk, he’d see the truth for himself. “Why don’t you tell me about your church? What is it like being such an important pastor? What are your days like? The people you work with.”
Her questions prompted him to begin what turned out to be a nearly hour-long conversation in which he described his many responsibilities and all the employees he had to manage. Especially the difficult ones—Thomas, always on his case, his admin, a Mrs. Clipton, who couldn’t seem to get anything right, Rubio the music director who was never happy, along with a host of other employees and several members who constantly complained about everything from the temperature in the church to the topic of sermons.
“Big donors, you know, so I have to listen to them.” He grunted as they reached a lighthouse perched on a wall of rocks and turned around.
“Sounds like you’re the CEO of a huge corporation.”
“It’s exactly like that. Lots of work and responsibility.”
“But not much time for God or doing real discipling.”
“There are others for that.”
Warm salty air blasted them, pulling her hair from her pins. “But you used to want to do that. Remember? You had such a love for the lost.” She stared at him, shielding her eyes from the setting sun, and longed to reach the old Daniel still lingering deep inside.
He raked back his hair, sending it in a dozen directions, and gave her a sideways glance. “That was a long time ago. I had to grow up and face the real world.”
“I still see that zeal in you, Daniel.” She’d seen sparks of it at church when he’d taken the pulpit, sparks of it here and there when he spoke about God. Only sparks. But it gave her hope they could be fanned
into flames.
Across the beach, people were packing up coolers and umbrellas, shaking out towels as the setting sun spun a golden ribbon over the western horizon. They walked on in silence, the wavelets tickling her feet and depositing tiny shells in the sand. She had no idea what to say next, but she had sensed Daniel’s frustration as he spoke about his church, and maybe even a little sadness. “But you don’t seem very happy,” she finally said.
“Listen, Angel.” His tone turned defensive. “If I want to be successful and make a living, I have to make compromises.”
“Is it that important to be successful in the eyes of the world?”
“Of course. Only then do people listen to you. How else can I reach as many as possible with the love of God?”
She gazed at him as he walked along, eyes downcast, footsteps measured, jaw knotted. And despite his fame and prestige, he was suddenly the same insecure young man she’d known, determined to make a name for himself, to battle the insults and degradation his drunken father had beat into him as a child. Was he still fighting that same battle? He had everything, and his name was known all over the globe. But maybe it wasn’t enough to satisfy his ravenous need to be somebody.
“You’ve more than proven yourself Daniel. To the world and to your father.”
“He has nothing to do with it.” His angry tone defied his statement.
“Okay. Okay. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry.” Halting, he faced her as a wavelet swept over their feet. “I guess I just wanted to impress you. Show you how far I’ve come, prove to you I am doing some good.”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me. You never have. Or to God. Just follow Him and quit playing footsies with the world.”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure what that means.”
She cocked a brow. “Like marrying two men.”
His smile faded. “Hey, it’s the law. And excluding them only turns them off from God.” He started walking again. “I never figured you to be a hater.”
A seagull screeched overhead. “I don’t hate homosexuals. Or anyone for that matter. In fact, aren’t you hating them more by your approval?”
Snorting, he shook his head as if she’d gone crazy.
“Think of it this way. You see a person running toward a cliff. They aren’t paying attention and don’t see that in just a couple more steps, they will plunge to their death. What do you do? Do you scream and tell them they are going the wrong way, try to leap in their path and stop them at the risk of them getting mad at you or calling you a bigot or hater? Wouldn’t that be the loving thing to do? Or do you just smile and wave as they run right off the cliff?”
He was silent for a long time. Music started blaring from a nearby bar as the wind picked up, bringing the scent of suntan oil and beer. “Okay. I sorta see your point. But the state forbids me to leap in their path. And besides, don’t you think God will give them a break? After all, they can’t help it, and those old scriptures about it being an abomination are just plain archaic. You can’t apply them to our culture today.”
“What about the entire first chapter of Romans? It spells out quite clearly God’s views on homosexuality and on all who deny Him. And in 1 John it says that a person who knows God does not keep sinning on purpose.”
“We all keep sinning. That’s why we need Jesus.”
Another sandpiper darted in front of them, chased by an incoming wave, as Angelica drew a breath to calm herself. “I can’t answer for God, Daniel. All I know is what His Word says. God doesn’t change based on our culture. He loves everyone and wants each person to join Him in Heaven, and of course we do that by trusting in Jesus. But the Bible is clear in so many passages that we must also obey Him and continue to do His will. Like this one from 1 John 2, ‘Whoever says, I know Him, but does not keep His commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him.’ Or this one in Matthew 7, ‘Not everyone who says to Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven.’ Shouldn’t we be telling people the truth? Doing everything in our power to save them? Especially those who are trapped in habitual sin.”
He was silent for a moment, giving her hope she had reached him, but then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. You wanted nothing to do with God twelve years ago.”
She returned his smile. “I guess we’ve both changed.”
“Not all that much.” Much to her surprise, he slipped his hand in hers. “You know I love talking with you, Angel. You always challenge me.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It is.” He squeezed her hand. “Tell me you’re enjoying our time together as much as I am.”
She was. In many ways, he was the same Daniel she’d always known—her knight in shining armor from years ago—witty, charming, caring, intelligent, good with people, and the way he looked at her...like he was looking at her now… brought back such sensations, she feared she’d lose all control and fall into his arms. It was as if she were twenty-one again, so enamored with him, she would have married him on the spot if he’d only asked.
Memories filled her thoughts of the first time they’d met. In the Seashore Lounge, her first job as a cocktail waitress. He and his buddies from seminary had come in for a drink. Only Daniel wasn’t drinking. She remembered thinking how odd that was for such a young guy. Especially when his friends were getting more and more rowdy with each drink. And more and more fresh with her, including some not-too-pure comments they’d flung her way. If she’d known at the time they were churchgoing people, she’d have given them a piece of her mind. But as it was, she was used to being disrespected. Part of the job, her coworker had told her.
Daniel, however, had been nothing but polite. Though she had caught his eyes on her more than once, his gaze was not one of lust, but more of admiration. Or interest.
“What are you thinking?” he finally said, bringing her back to the present.
She shouldn’t tell him. It would only stroke his ego. “Remember when we first met?”
“I will never forget it.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “You were so cute in that outfit they made you wear.”
“Is that all you can think of?” She chuckled. “Remember getting tossed from the place?”
“Oh yeah, that.” He shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t very well let that guy put his hands on you like that. Not after you told him no. Twice.”
“But you didn’t have to slug him.”
“Worked though, didn’t it?” His dimple appeared.
She smiled, picturing the drunken pervert toppling backward after Daniel’s punch, tipping the table over and sending all the drinks crashing to the floor. It was the table next to Daniel’s, and she hadn’t even known he was watching.
“You rescued me. No one had ever done that for me before.”
“Earned me your phone number.” He brushed hair from her face and then ran his thumb over her lips. “I should have never let you go. You’ve always been my Angel.” He leaned toward her and stole a kiss.
But if she admitted it, he didn’t steal it at all.
Chapter 21
Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.
Matthew 23:27 (NKJV)
With the sensation of Angel’s sweet kiss still thrumming through his body, Daniel slept sounder than he had in years. When he rose in the morning, he felt as if a burden had been lifted and he wasn’t sure why. After making himself a fruit smoothie, he was still smiling when he walked through the doors of FLCG and made his way to his office. Man, but he had missed Angel. He’d forgotten how wonderful it was to just talk with her. She had a special way of listening, a rare gift among people today who were constantly trying to interject their opinions and advice. But not Angel. She just listened to him for hours. And more than that, she cared. He could tell by the questions sh
e asked and the tone of her voice. She understood him, the stress he was under, the responsibility. If only she could see the bigger picture and understand why he had to compromise on some issues to affect more people for good.
All in time. She would see. And her kiss meant that there was hope for them to start up where they’d left off.
Turning a corner, he spotted Thomas’ door ajar and halted, peering inside. He’d love to hear his thoughts on the play last night. The sounds of grunting and groaning met his ears, and he took a step inside and scanned the room. In the far corner Thomas was lying on top of a woman on a couch.
“What is going on?” Daniel shouted before he had time to think.
The woman screeched, while Thomas leapt from her and spun around, his shirt untucked and pants unzipped.
Kimberly Monroe sat up, clawing at her blouse in an attempt to cover herself.
Upon seeing Daniel, Thomas’ shoulders lowered and he grinned. “Nothing much now,” he said with a sarcastic slur.
“Oh, my.” Kimberly searched for her shoes, slipped them on and stood, doing her best to straighten her skirt and button her shirt.
“Could you knock next time?” Thomas said, making himself decent.
“I didn’t think I had to. What on earth are you two doing?” Disgust soured in his mouth.
Clearly flustered, Kimberly cast Thomas a look of alarm and passed by Daniel on her way out the door, uttering a quick. “Sorry.”
Thomas watched her leave then dropped into a chair. “Has it been so long that you don’t recognize it?”
Anger heated Daniel’s blood. “What are my associate pastor and youth pastor doing having sex!?”
“Well, we actually didn’t get that far.”
“You think this is funny?” Daniel shouted, his grand morning ruined. “This is unacceptable!”
When Angels Cry Page 18
