Judy Baer - Million Dollar Dilemma

Praise for

MILLION DOLLAR DILEMMA

“Baer’s reputation—bolstered by the popular novel The Whitney Chronicles—means that this new novel is likely to sell briskly, especially since the eponymous Whitney makes an appearance among its cast of supporting characters.”

—Publishers Weekly on Million Dollar Dilemma

“Million Dollar Dilemma is a million-dollar treasure you must read! And give a wonderful gift to a friend.”

—Armchair Interviews

“Million Dollar Dilemma is a fabulously rockin’ inspirational romance. Fans of inspirational, chick-lit and contemporary romance will enjoy this book.”

—CataRomance Reviews

“For an enjoyable, inspirational, chick-lit reading experience, be sure to check out Million Dollar Dilemma.”

—romancejunkies.com

“Million Dollar Dilemma is sophisticated in structure and story, but sweet and accessible.”

—NBC10.com

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For my mother and in remembrance of my father, who both read to me constantly when I was a child. I learned the wonder and joy of books early. Thank you. I love you!

A man who works hard sleeps in peace. It is not important if he has little or much to eat. But a rich person worries about his wealth. He cannot sleep.

—Ecclesiastes 5:12

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Cassia, I’m collecting again. Want to chip in five bucks? If so, leave it in the envelope in my desk. Hope it’s a lucky weekend. See you Monday! Stella

Who is having a baby this time?

Sometimes I wonder why I work for a living. Is it to support myself or the office kitty every time someone in customer service or any other department has a baby…or a wedding…a funeral…a promotion…or a zit?

We are the most fertile, engage-able, promote-able and magnanimous division of Parker Bennett Manufacturing and buy more gifts and flowers than the rest of shipping and receiving, human resources and accounting offices put together.

It doesn’t hurt that Stella Olson prefers shopping online as an office-related activity to doing her actual work as receptionist and secretary. Of course, I enjoy being part of a group so generous and thoughtful. I like giving things away. Proverbs 11:24 and all.

Some people give much, but get back even more. But others don’t give what they should and they end up poor.

My Sunday-school teacher—who also happened to be my mother—made a big deal out of that. She talked a lot about how giving freely could lead to good things and being stingy and hoarding things wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Maybe she was just trying to get my sister and me to share toys, but the lesson went far deeper in me.

At first I dumped all my pennies into the collection plate as insurance that nothing terrible would happen to me, but as I got older I realized that I hadn’t purchased any heavenly health insurance after all.

I’m a P.K., a preacher’s kid—or if I want to get fancy, a T.O., a theologian’s offspring. Money never meant much to us. We always had good food to eat, a nice parsonage to live in and anything else we seemed to need. Now Dad is happy as a clam serving a three-point parish in Wyoming, sometimes eating three potluck dinners in a single day and turning a deaf ear to my mother’s lectures on the dangers of high blood pressure. He’s been known to have coffee and homemade cookies as many as seven times in a row when he’s visiting his parishioners and, because he looks so cuddly with those extra chins, they keep on feeding him. He’s oblivious to all but his flock and his faith and is often difficult to engage in conversations about anything other than baptism, church council, salvation or the Sunday-school board of education. Mom, fortunately, loves being Sunday school superintendent, leading Bible study and directing Christmas pageants. They’re a little distant at times, but that’s probably natural. They spent a lot of time in the mission field while I was growing up, and when they were gone, my sister and I lived with our grandparents.

I blame my grandfather, Benjamin Carr, for my proclivity to donate money to every good cause. I can still envision him—his perfectly groomed white hair, fastidiously trimmed mustache and penetrating gray eyes that pierced right to my soul. I can also hear his rumbling, sonorous voice quoting Luke 6:38. “Whatever measure you use in giving—large or small—it will be used to measure what is given back to you.” He led by example—to my grandmother’s dismay when she needed grocery money and found her cookie jar empty. But as she reminded us time and time again, God always provides.

I’ve missed my grandfather every day since he passed 10 weeks ago. Grandma assures me that with time, the pain will lessen. I’m still waiting.

Gramps was a big fan of the Bible first, and of Winston Churchill second. Spiritual, brilliant and with a keen interest in the history of Great Britain, Gramps spent the last fifty years of his life in Simms, South Dakota, a speck-in-the-road town that hadn’t substantially changed since the day he and his nineteen-year-old bride arrived, fresh faced and eager, to build a new church.

Gramps believed that Christians are givers—of time, talents, compassion and money. When anyone remarked on his proclivity for keeping so little for himself that he could barely make ends meet, he responded with a quote from Winston Churchill. “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” Even those doubting Thomases who took issue with the Bible were usually willing to respect old Winston.

I sighed and turned to stare at Stella’s desk.

I’m new to this office and to Minneapolis, Minnesota. I need all the friends I can get. Besides, I take pleasure in the celebrations as much as anyone. I love a good party.

I dug deep to find five one-dollar bills in the bottom of my worn faux leather purse and opened the desk drawer. I need a new purse, but right now I don’t have anything to put into it—or to pay for it with, either. What’s more, Grandpa Ben praised frugality so much that I actually get more joy out of not spending money. Weird, I know—a twenty-eight-year-old woman who doesn’t like to shop.

I peered inside the desk drawer. She’s meticulous, that Stella—I have to give her that. Every nail-polish bottle is arranged in order, descending from the dark rum-brown to the pale pink haze. Her pens, one of every color except black, which she says is depressing, are also tidily organized. She has lipstick, breath spray, mascara, blush and foundation stored where everyone else keeps their sticky pads and paper clips.