The Perfect Blend by Allie Pleiter Page B

business. What I’m doing is all about faith and business. Because for me—and lots of other people God took very seriously—business is all about faith. Did Joseph have a business plan to become Pharaoh’s right-hand man? Did Moses have an itinerary before he left Egypt? God doesn’t always give us the plan. That’s why it’s called faith.”
    Will looks momentarily blindsided by my speech. I cross my arms over my chest to keep myself from saying So there! at the end of my lesson on Faith Without Facts.
    â€œYou’re wrong.”
    How can he state it so simply like that? I’mrevising my three-word list on Will Grey. Exasperating now tops the list.
    â€œI am not.” Ooo, clever comeback, Mags. Please. That’s the second time we’ve had that little juvenile exchange. What is it about this guy that gets me into argue-mode so quickly?
    Will holds up a single finger. “Joseph,” he replies, glaring me down, “had a long-range plan that covered fourteen years of feast and famine.” He ticks off another finger. “Moses gave specific directions to divide the people up into tribes so that they traveled in distinct groups with distinct responsibilities. Which makes him,” he folds his fingers into a point aimed straight between my eyes, “the first biblical occurrence of management delegation, if you care to know. And even Noah had specific building plans, down to the square cubit, mind you. Square footage, Miss Black. Just like we covered in class. Faith and planning are not enemies.”
    â€œFine. Facts are good. Check. But don’t you see? I don’t need to know all the details now. What I need is to get started now.”
    â€œDon’t you see?” Will fires back. “You are getting started. This is part of getting started. It doesn’t all begin the moment you fill someone’s coffee cup and take their money.” His look is so intense that my throat tightens. “You have passion. You have vision. You live for what you’re going to be doing. All those things are vital and they’ll take you far. But they’ll only take you so far.” Will takes a breath, as if catching himself up. “Look at it thisway,” he continues in a softer voice, “it takes a while to get the details lined up, but the faith is knowing you will get there. ”
    â€œDo you believe I’ll get there?” I blurt out, suddenly consumed with the need to know his answer.
    â€œI believe part of God’s plan for Higher Grounds is that you get your tactics straight before you get there. And I believe,” he continues even more quietly, “that you are here because God wants you here. And I am here because God wants me here.”
    There is a stunned powerful silence between us. Something hugely important was just said.
    â€œAnd I believe,” Will says with warmth stealing back into his voice, “that those things are not in opposition to each other.”
    Well, folks, there you have it: the world’s first declaration of mutual faith and begrudging admiration conducted by argument. Are we visionaries or what? I lean against his office doorway. “How come we’re so good at this?”
    â€œGood at what?”
    â€œArguing.”
    â€œI could say because I’m always right and you’re always wrong—”
    â€œHey!”
    Will makes a surrender gesture, both hands flying up into the air. “—but that would only start another argument, wouldn’t it?” He smiles and the air between us is filled with something warm and energetic and…highly dangerous. We linger in it fora moment—too long a moment—until Will clears his throat and reaches for another book. “Yes, well, you’d best be going.”
    â€œYes, of course. Lots to do.” I gather up my stuff. As I head out the door, he calls out.
    â€œMiss Black?”
    â€œYes?” I turn,