A second round of applause circled the table, and Juliet leaned forward, directing her attention to Pastor Gene. “Unfortunately, you don’t get off that easy. I expect to see you and everyone else at the clinic tonight, in black-tie and bling. Let’s have a great time and celebrate the fact that we’ve all worked together to make the facility come to life. I didn’t do this alone, so I refuse to take a big share of the credit, but I certainly appreciate everyone’s support.”
She looked around taking in the faces of the people she had worked with so extensively during the past eight months. Surrounding her were community leaders and parishioners of Trinity. Each of them was now her friend as well as her ally in the cause to provide health care to the underprivileged. A dream was now reality.
Since a family wasn’t meant to be at the moment, Juliet loved pouring her energy—and her heart—into service projects like this. For now, until children came along, she felt God’s call, and His pleasure, in those efforts.
When she stood, she felt a subtle tap against her shoulder. She turned and looked up into the teasing eyes of Tim Parkson. “You always so shy about accepting praise?”
She snorted lightly. “
Always
.”
“You shouldn’t be. Seriously you’ve done a great job.”
She was eager to get home but didn’t want to hurt Tim’s feelings with a quick brush off. She smiled at him, propping a hip against the table. “No, I just embrace the technique of effective recruiting.”
“You sure didn’t let any grass grow under my feet once I talked to you about volunteer opportunities here at Trinity.”
Juliet laughed. “As soon as you joined, I knew I had to lasso that giving spirit of yours and put it to work!”
“Yeah—you’re kind of relentless, and difficult to refuse.” He studied her for a moment, and the underlying hesitance, the questions in his eyes, left Juliet puzzling. “I’m looking forward to finally meeting Kellen tonight.”
Her body went tight. So that was it. Tim wondered about Kellen. It made Juliet a little sad that their paths hadn’t yet crossed. In fact, after a Sunday service when he first joined, Tim stayed very close to her side during after church fellowship. Over coffee and doughnuts, they had chatted and become acquainted, and as Juliet clued him in on parish activities, she noticed the way Tim’s eager warmth toned down when he caught sight of her wedding ring.
Until that point, Tim had thought she was single.
That misconception haunted Juliet long afterward. Kellen hadn’t been to services at Trinity for a while now, and his absence was noticed, in a number of ways.
Juliet checked her watch, wanting distance now. Evasion. “Speaking of which, I better get home and get prepped.”
“Juliet, can I speak to you for a second? It’s about a media request from the Fox-TV affiliate. They’re going to want to interview you tonight, and I didn’t want you to be surprised by the request.”
Pastor Gene’s interruption was opportune, and gratefully received. Following a brief farewell to Tim, Juliet gave her full attention to her Pastor. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he watched Tim leave, then he addressed her with a kind, knowing look. “I figured I’d intervene so you could wrap up and get going.”
OK, that was a strange and unexpected comment. “Ah…well…thanks…”
“He’s well-meaning and kind. I just felt a call to step in.”
And separate? What was going on here “What? I’m not trustable?” She framed the question like a tease, but her blood ran thick.
“You are, and I think Tim is trying to be, but with Kellen not as much of a presence here lately, I feel a bit protective …”
Though incomplete, the sentence convicted her thoroughly. An uncomfortable wobble in her stomach turned intense, an occurrence that overtook her more and more often these days. “I’m sorry about that.”
Her façade crumbled, and shame burst through its holding walls. Pastor Gene touched her arm. “Don’t apologize. Kellen’s actions aren’t your responsibility.”
Juliet reared back, staring at him, now openly defensive. “You know, honestly, Kellen isn’t…isn’t…” Her shoulders sagged when defeat rode in. She simply couldn’t find the words she needed to illustrate the feelings in her heart, but it seemed to her like Kellen was being judged, and she wanted to look out for him.
“Kellen is exactly what Trinity, and what God’s kingdom, needs the most.” Pastor Gene’s gentle eyes and calm voice took away the sting she felt. “He’s successful, charismatic, smart as can be, and he’s got a heart that’s tuned in to God. That’s why I’m surprised by his absence lately. He’s never been one to drift—and I’ve known him ever since you brought him here for the first time.” Pastor Gene shrugged. “I married you two, and have loved watching your relationship grow. He’s always stepped up and offered himself. He’s genuine, and enthusiastic. I care about him a great deal. It’s impossible not to. Help him see that, Juliet. Help bring him back home.”
Juliet bit her lips together, because her chin quivered, and her throat went tight against on onslaught of sadness. She had been an emotional basket case lately, worrying about maintaining the happiness of her marriage, trying almost desperately to hold fast to God’s hand while so many things in life conspired against her.
Pastor Gene’s words rang with warning, and loving care. The confrontation, of a sort, forced Juliet to realize how adept she had become at acting. She put up a front these days, refusing to tarnish Kellen, or herself, by alluding to any kind of problems, but problems grew, regardless. Kellen was too wrapped up in work. He was straying from the basics in a number of ways, but so was she.
Juliet had gotten into the habit of covering for Kellen and burying her own needs in the work she did through Trinity Christian. It was beneficial, sure, but it was also a form of deflection. Kellen genuinely valued what precious little down time he had from his job, so he had fallen into the pattern of forsaking church on Sunday morning in favor of relaxing quietly at home and attempting to build in a peaceful stretch of time when he didn’t have obligations or concerns other than stilling himself, and building up strength for the week ahead.
But Juliet knew, and Kellen used to know, that the kind of strength he needed most came straight from time spent in God’s house, in the arms of a loving faith community like Trinity.
How had he lost sight of that fact, and how had she allowed the situation to overtake them, unchecked? They were responsible to one another.
A lack of God’s presence within their relationship was making a bad situation worse. Kellen had grown increasingly remote during the past several weeks, his distance intensifying to the point that only recently had she realized the blissful, passionate interlude of a month ago marked the last time they had made love. He was busy and distracted and wound up, so she gave him what seemed like some necessary space.
Was she in the wrong for that?
Pastor Gene wrapped a fatherly arm around Juliet’s shoulder, seeming to decide he had said, and done, enough.
“Let’s go and get spiffed up. That’s going to take me hours, anyhow.”
They shared a chuckle, but Juliet’s heart was far from light. A corner needed to be turned. Maybe it could happen tonight when Kellen reconnected with their church friends and witnessed firsthand the results of her long hours of volunteering and service.
Lifted by expectation, holding onto a fledgling hope that their marriage might return to normalcy, Juliet strode from the church and through the parking lot. “He’ll be there tonight,” she murmured to herself. “He wouldn’t miss it.”
****
Kellen drove south out of Nashville, on his way to Platinum Echo Studios. Traffic willing, he’d be on time for a three o’clock meeting with Chloe and her assigned demo producer, Jason Missing. Chloe and Jason had spent the early part of the day recording, and Kellen was eager to hear the results. In addition, he had just this morning come upon a song from an up-and-coming writer that just begged for Chloe’s vocals. The title of the song was
Swing Time
, and with Chloe on lead, he had the feeling it would be a hit.
Right on time, Kellen entered the studio. Immediately his attention came to rest on Chloe. She sat before the massive, impossibly complex soundboard, but she kicked back comfortably in the padded, rolling chair she occupied, laughing with one of the technicians. She wore blue jeans, a white tank top and an open oxford shirt of purple that drew his focus to her amazing, violet eyes.
Kellen clicked the delete button on that image and approached the producer, who sat to Chloe’s right. “Jason. What have we got?”
Jason delivered a smug, satisfied grin. “Pure magic. You ready to listen?”
“Absolutely.” Kellen sat in a free mobile chair; he rolled into position on Chloe’s left. Her smile of greeting spiked a pleasing level of heat through his system. Their gazes remained connected a beat or two longer than was absolutely necessary…
Kellen withdrew a pad of paper from his computer case and flipped to a blank page. While technicians cued the just completed recording, he claimed a pen and clicked it to readiness, registering the way Chloe leaned forward just slightly. Watching him.
The nearness of her worked a potent distraction, until the song began to play.
Kellen went still; he tuned out everything else, focusing on one of the modulator arms of the soundboard until his world zoomed in on nothing else except what he heard.
His brows furrowed.
Oh, man. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Jason was not going to be a happy camper this afternoon.
In an operating procedure that felt as natural as could be, he started to scribble notes—notes that would only make sense to him, until the song underwent an intensive and relentlessly unforgiving review.
Synthesized her voice in the opening? Really? Pop rock instead of come-hither jazz. Why? Cheap song. Way too easy and common. Just another gorgeous female singer? No. Compelling. Mysterious. CH=Unobtainable. Image=high-end draw…? Alluring vibe needs to carry through the music…
The words poured forth. Kellen kept listening; he paused now and again to absorb the song. He chewed on the end of his pen, still completely lost to his thoughts and the music, which turned into a wholesale disappointment.
Awareness spread through his limbs in a flood when Chloe wheeled close.
Kellen realized, belatedly, she saw his somewhat provocative analysis.
She lifted her hair and tucked it to the side. She leaned against him slightly in order to even better see what he had written. Kellen didn’t particularly like the rise of need her attention gave him, nor the fact that he had been somewhat revealed in his infatuation, but he couldn’t refuse or stop the sensation either.
An emptiness at his core left Kellen to wonder: what was the harm in attraction? What was the harm in flirting and playing with the hot tingle of awareness and desire…?
He straightened abruptly when that thought pattern moved through him, and lent a pounding swiftness, and heat, to his body.
Into his mind echoed a one word warning and rebuke:
No.
He turned slightly from Chloe as the song wound down. By way of added emphasis, he covered his notes with the previous pages of his legal pad. This chemical rush was as threatening as it was intoxicating. He wanted to heed what he knew was God’s call. He wanted to stop this tempting vibration in its tracks.
Almost.
What would it feel like? Chloe’s infatuation, her openness…it tasted delicious.
While he made the noble resolution of refusal, Kellen glanced her way. Chloe, he found, just looked at him—and into him—her eyes wide and gorgeous. Resolutions wavered.
“Well?” Jason’s voice cut into the quiet that crested in at the close of the song.
Kellen shook his head and returned to his job. His verdict wasn’t for Jason’s consumption. Not yet, anyway. Kellen gave him a deliberately unreadable, noncommittal look. “Give me a few minutes with Chloe. I want to discuss it with her before we do an all-out review.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be in the break room when you’re ready.”
Once the door closed behind Jason, Chloe looked at Kellen with an alarmed expression. Their unspoken interplay of sensuality evaporated. “Umm…you…you don’t seem real pleased. Wasn’t it good?”
He could tell she was genuinely afraid she had let him, and herself, down. The display of fear melted his will to maintain apart from her. Kellen leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. While she watched, and waited, Kellen spoke. “Chloe, let me ask you something. Did that song speak to you?”
“Speak to me?” She drummed her fingertips against the armrest, tilting her head when she looked down at the floor. “It was fun, in a way—with spark and a beat that’s catchy. I thought it would be successful…”
Her tentative response provided the roadmap Kellen needed to make his point. “I don’t think this is the kind of music you’ve envisioned producing over the long term.” She lifted a shoulder, wide-eyed. Her spirit, he could tell, was thrown open to his guidance—and that fact continued to pull at him in a way that was magnetic and powerful.
Kellen went on, trying to approach everything about her through his capacity as her agent—and nothing more. “This has nothing to do with you, Chloe. That song would sell like crazy—because of you, but not because of the music. You have the power to propel
both
.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re that strong a talent, and presence.” The words settled between them. “That song, to me, diminished you as an artist. It was too techno-pop to play to who you really are”-- and everything he had written down, and felt, as he listened, --“you’re better than that, Chloe. You’re more than commercial pandering and fads. You’re richly textured and evocative—that song is beneath you.” He could all but hear that alluring voice of hers, backed up by a smoky saxophone or some lilting piano. She took a deep, trembling breath, and stared into his eyes. Equally provoked, Kellen diverted by consulting his notepad, only to realize once again that his analysis seemed more a poetic ode to the woman before him than a study of her musical talents.