Goodman resisted opening the car door and thought again of Living Waters, the empty shore too far away. He leaned over his steering wheel and smelled leather. Beyond the BMW hood was the green sign proclaiming,Reserved Parking for Pastor Goodman. A sparrow’s small token had changed his name toGoo-man.
He grimaced. Who could he tell? No one. Half his staff would rush to erase it. Too bad. It was, well, funny.
At lunch he had planned away summer. He should be grateful. He straightened.The Goo-man life. Few had it. Besides, today he had time for tennis after he approved the new hire. He would keep the interview short. Keene had told him what he needed about the new girl. A lawyer would know. The indoor court was reserved. No reason to dawdle.
However, first . . . duty.
His fingers closed around his suit coat, and in one motion, Goodman pushed himself out while pulling it on, his momentum building, carrying him over sidewalk to welcome mat to staff door, where he entered Calvary Community Church. The foyer stretched high above him, giving him a sense of the Cascades around Rainier. Butterscotch paint warmed the space, and his feet tapped a purposeful beat on the cement floor.
The receptionist’s office? Empty. Dorothy, gone. He reached into his pocket for the tiny pill and swallowed before vaulting forward to push the elevator button. The doors swished open. A megachurch with a glass elevator. Who would have believed this? Not Father.
The elevator lifted him over the foyer’s book corner, where a four-color banner hung featuring his headshot. His hair was perfectly trimmed, its rebellious wave tamed, and the deepening lines over his cheekbones erased.
Upstairs, Goodman hurried to his suite’s private door. Inside, black-framed glossies dotted the wall over the leather couch. He crossed the Oriental rug, his fingers gliding over the smooth polish of his mahogany desk. What a gift, the desk. Although when he slid between it and the back wall, pressure clamped over him.
He swiveled into his chair and buzzed. “Afternoon, Sarah. How was lunch? Are we ready?”
“Yes, Past
