The Race to Love - A Christian Clean & Wholesome Contemporary Romance: A Newport Coast Series, #1

Chapter 1

South Coast Plaza was a bustling place at the beginning of November. Angela shot her car into the closest parking place she could, cutting the engine and huffing. I guess the Christmas buzz is already beginning, she sighed.

Her best friend, Rebecca, swept her sunglasses up from her eyes. The sunlight streamed in from the California skies, making her blink several times. I haven't even started thinking about Christmas presents yet. Have you?

Angela grimaced. I've barely begun thinking about groceries for the week, she sighed. Let alone all the cases I have coming in. Angela was a family lawyer, working alongside families as they did their best to uncouple without messing up their kids. Her typical work included divorces, custody battles, and family-related issues.

It's a time of divorce, isn't it? End of the year. All the panic and anger from the summertime causing families to split up? Rebecca said with a serious expression on her face.

Something like that, Angela said. And none of them, I mean none, have bothered going to a church counselor about it. I wish I could counsel them more than just legally.

They moved from the car and entered the mall side by side. Their mall ritual was something they'd done since they were girls, before boys, careers, and before they knew what they wanted from life. And now, three years after Angela's gut-wrenching divorce, she continued to stumble through all the horrors of singledom, latching onto days with her best friend as the only ones that kept her afloat. They were the only times where she was allowed to exist, wholly as herself.

I was thinking we could run upstairs to look at dresses? Rebecca asked her, inching her left eyebrow high. Just in case you were considering downloading that app.

Ha. Angela gave her best friend an eye roll. As if. I mean, with the holidays coming up, do you think I should be dating? All that expectation about meeting families, celebrating, and gifts!

Oh, my gosh, Angela. Just going on a date with a single guy doesn't mean you have to meet his grandmother. Rebecca laughed.

Angela paused at the escalator, darting out of the way of a pair of teenagers whose gloss was thick and shiny on their lips. After sweeping her fingers through her thick curly brown hair, she murmured, I don't want to, especially around this time of the year. It was when Jacob ...

I know. I know, Rebecca said, sweeping her hand to Angela's shoulder and squeezing gently.

Jacob was Angela's ex-husband. Tall, blond, handsome, with thick eyebrows and a genuine smile. He and Angela had met about twelve years before when they were both at a UC Berkeley in northern California. Angela had fallen head over heels for him, instantly knowing that he would be the one she would marry. They'd been inseparable for the next two years. They'd taken the same classes, learned to pray together, and even vacationed with one another's families.

Jacob is a good man, Angela's father had told her, mere days before he'd proposed. You'll build a beautiful Christian marriage together. I know it. And I've prayed for it.

Rebecca snapped her fingers in Angela's face, trying to bring her back to reality. Around them, the mall continued to buzz along. The teenagers were already at the top of the escalator, leaving them far behind.

I'm sorry, Angela sighed, blinking rapidly. I just was thinking about—

Baby, I know, Rebecca said. But it's been three years. And I think, maybe if we get you a new wardrobe. A new way of looking at the world—

It'll help me forget about how my ex-husband left me? Angela said, her voice sounding harsh. For a woman who is ten years younger than me! As if—as if everything between us hadn't happened?

Angela, whenever you get like this, you just spin out of control, Rebecca said. Jacob is a piece of garbage, and we both know it. It's time for you to get back out there. Experience conversations with other men, you know? Re-learn what it's like to just ... date. It's been, what? Twelve years since you were even out with someone else?

Probably longer, Angela said, taking a tentative step onto the escalator. I mean, before Jacob, who was it? Brent?

Rebecca had been there for every boy-related conversation in the tiny dorm they'd shared.

I think so. He's the one who still had braces? Rebecca laughed. What a catch. You know, I heard he has three kids now?

Of course, he does, Angela said, rolling her eyes. Of course, he's happier than me.

You have to stop wallowing, Rebecca said, biting her bottom lip. Her brows angled with worry. I know you need time to heal. But I think just trying something ....

You said dresses, right? Angela asked, interrupting her. She cut into the large department store, diving between the little black dresses adorned with lace and shiny fabric. She reached for their hems, inspecting them as if she knew how to look sensual on a date. It seemed most of her life with Jacob had involved wearing pajamas on the couch and cuddling. Some of those hours, they'd exchanged favorite Bible verses and their hopes and fears.

So, when had he met that despicable woman? Had it been long before he'd told Angela about wanting to leave? Had their cuddling on the couch coincided with him meeting her, sleeping with her—cheating on Angela?

She shuddered. Then with a sudden stab of excitement and fear, she reached for a black dress and lifted it to her torso. Without hesitation, she entered the dressing room, yanking the dress over her head and finding her slim frame shrouded in the dark fabric. If Angela was honest with herself, she looked sensual and passionate. Someone who would undoubtedly find success on a Christian dating app. Right? At least it wouldn't be a complete waste of time?

She heard Rebecca's shoes clacking outside, waiting for her to don the gown.

Come on, Angela. If you aren't going to let me see you with the dress on, how do you expect to be confident in front of a date?

Ha. Don't think you've already talked me into it, Angela said. Then, reaching for the door, she opened it with a flash, standing in the doorway of the small, closet-sized dressing room.

Rebecca spun toward her, a smile stretched on her lips. For a long moment, she didn't say anything. Silence hung between them, making Angela doubt herself. Her stomach twisted.

It's stupid, isn't it? she asked, her voice quaking. I should have never...

Don't be silly, Rebecca said. She stepped forward, adjusting the straps on Angela's delicate, bony shoulders. I've just not seen you in this state of sexiness in years. Not since college, maybe. Or that night we went out for your bachelorette.

Angela tossed her head back at the memory. Flashes of that night raced through her mind. They'd donned semi-tight dresses and danced and drank just a bit too much wine. While all sorts of attractive men hit on them, they remained on their best behavior, as all of them were committed to boyfriends, fiancés, husbands, or God.

We should do that again, Angela heard herself say, her throat feeling tight.

Ha. We're getting up there, Angie. I don't know if they'd accept us at a club anymore, Rebecca said.

Don't make me feel old ... Angela murmured. It's the last thing I need if I'm going to get back out there.

So, you're considering it? Rebecca said, her eyebrows high on her forehead.

Angela turned her slim frame toward the long mirror at the far end of the dressing room hallway. It reflected her image, a young woman—with a bit of wear and tear, sure, from years of neglect, sadness, and self-pity. But gliding forward, she watched as her legs eased through the air, soft and dainty beneath the black dress. She inspected the thinness of her ankles, the tightness of her upper arms. Then, leaning her head back, she watched as her breasts lifted slightly, giving her a bit of cleavage at the top of the dress.

It might be a bit too scandalous, Angela whispered.

Maybe it's a risk you have to take, Rebecca said, sliding her arm around Angela's shoulders.

Angela felt she'd already taken risks in her life. She'd allowed herself to fall head over heels for someone who ultimately became her husband. When she had taken a leap of faith, telling him she'd marry him, she felt their souls align like a rare cosmic event, becoming one entity. But when Jacob finally told her he was leaving, he stripped his soul from hers. And Angela wasn't sure if hers could stand on its own. It felt devoid of passion, string-like, invisible. When she wasn't with Rebecca, it was rare she laughed or even cried. She just ... existed.

Surely there are other dresses. I can come back. Angela turned toward the dressing room, her shoulders tossing forward.

At least pick something out for your dinner with your grandmother, Rebecca said, sounding worn and tired. This was a war she'd been fighting for years, as well: a battle to yank Angela back into the world and convince her she was worthwhile. You always have to pretend to be all right with her.

How did you know I was having dinner with Gran? Angela asked, her eyebrows stitching together. She was sure she hadn't mentioned it, but her grandmother had requested dinner the night before—calling her as Angela wallowed deep in her soapy bubble bath. I'm making your favorite dish tomorrow, as I have something significant to discuss with you, Margaret West, Angela's prim and proper, yet eternally sassy grandmother, had said. And I won't take no for an answer.

Rebecca's eyes looked lost, glazed over. Um ... You mentioned it in the car, didn't you?

Angela dragged herself back into the dressing room, feeling a wave of nausea. Standing naked in the dressing room, she felt little goosebumps pop up on her arms and legs as she removed the dress. You and Gran have been talking about me again, haven't you?

Rebecca began to stutter. It's—it's just we're all so worried about you, Angie. It's not as if we're sobbing about you or worrying about the state of your life. We just want you to be happy ...

Angela felt her heart squeeze tight in her chest. Then, with her nostrils flared, she glared at the door. She felt like a child, a kid who had fallen into the mud while everyone was staring.

I'm sorry, Rebecca continued, rapping at the door. I'll stop talking to them. It's just they rarely hear from you or how you're doing, so they come to me for information. That's all.

Angela took a deep, guttural breath before dressing again, donning her regular clothes. With a glance in the mirror, she felt a wave of normalcy pass over her. The reflection in the mirror was the woman she'd cultivated for the last three years, for better or for worse. This was her lot in life. The only way she could face the world.

All right, monster. Let's get out of here, Angela said, easing out of the dressing room and slipping her hand through Rebecca's.

You're not mad? Rebecca asked, her voice soft and delicate.

Of course not, Angela said, tapping the sexy black dress on the rack to the left. Angela gave it a final, longing glance and turned her head back toward the department store. Listen, I think I might want to go to the candle store. I never want to go empty-handed to my grandmother's. Even though she has all the money in the world, she looks down on me if I don't bring a present.

I remember the first time I went there for dinner, Rebecca said, her eyes wide. I brought flowers, and she didn't like the color of them. Your grandmother said, They weren't a nice shade of yellow, in this disdainful voice.

She has good taste, Margaret West does," Angela said, tossing her hair behind her