The Gospel in the Boardroom
"Listen, I don't care what we gotta do—just fix it."
Taylor Reed, CEO of Reed & Co. Consulting, pinched the bridge of her nose as she stared at the sales projections. Another quarter in the red. Another investors' call full of excuses. She had clawed her way up the corporate ladder, fought through glass ceilings and boardroom politics, only to find herself here—on the verge of losing everything she had built.
She leaned back in her leather chair, exhaling slowly. Lord, I know I ain't talked to You in a while, but if You're listening… I need a miracle.
That's when her assistant, Mia, knocked and poked her head in. "Hey, um, about that consultant we were thinking about bringing in…"
Taylor waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah, just hire whoever has the best track record."
Mia hesitated. "Well, you said 'best,' and according to his client reviews, Jamal Carter is the guy. But uh…"
"But what?"
Mia smirked. "He's kinda… churchy."
Taylor arched an eyebrow. "Churchy? You mean like, wears-cross-necklaces-and-says-'blessed' churchy?"
Mia handed over a tablet with Jamal's profile. "More like, preaches-on-Sundays-and-posts-Scripture-on-LinkedIn churchy."
Taylor groaned. The last thing she needed was some Bible-thumping consultant trying to "pray" her business back to life. God and capitalism didn't mix—or at least, they never had in her world.
Still, the numbers didn't lie. Jamal Carter had taken multiple struggling companies and turned them around.
"Fine," she said. "Book him."
A Different Kind of Consultant
When Jamal walked into the boardroom, Taylor nearly forgot how to speak.
This man was not what she expected.
6'3", deep brown skin, sharp navy-blue suit tailored to bless his frame. He had the kind of smile that could charm both grandmothers and executives alike, and when he spoke, his voice had that rich baritone that sent chills down her spine.
She sat up straighter. Focus, Taylor. You're here to save your business, not get distracted by… whatever this is.
"Ms. Reed," Jamal said, extending a hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
His grip was firm but warm. Professional. Unbothered. Like he knew exactly who he was.
"Mr. Carter," she replied coolly, slipping her hand away before it lingered too long. "Let's get to it. My company is hemorrhaging money, and I need a plan that doesn't involve 'trusting the Lord.'"
Jamal chuckled, settling into a chair. "I hear you. But let me ask—when was the last time you stopped and asked why your company's struggling?"
Taylor frowned. "What does that have to do with—"
"Everything." He leaned forward. "Your team's burnt out. They don't trust leadership. Your investors are losing faith. You can slap new strategies on a sinking ship all day, but if the foundation is cracked? It's going down."
Taylor crossed her arms. "So what's your fix?"
Jamal smiled. "We're gonna rebuild the culture. From the inside out."
She narrowed her eyes. "That sounds dangerously close to 'trusting the Lord.'"
He chuckled again. "Trusting the process."
Something about the way he said it made her stomach flip.
Redemption in the Boardroom
Over the next few weeks, Taylor watched something strange happen in her office.
Jamal wasn't just fixing spreadsheets—he was fixing people.
He held team meetings where employees actually spoke up. He listened. Encouraged. Even her most jaded department heads started looking… lighter.
One afternoon, she found herself standing in the breakroom, watching as Jamal prayed with her CFO, Denise, who had been battling depression.
Taylor shook her head. What kind of consultant prays for employees?
And yet… Denise came out of that prayer smiling for the first time in months.
She confronted Jamal later that day.
"What exactly are you doing to my people?"
He looked up from his laptop and grinned. "Helping them remember they're more than just numbers on a spreadsheet."
Taylor huffed. "I didn't hire you to be a pastor."
Jamal's eyes softened. "No. But I think God might've hired me to be here for more than just business."
She felt a lump rise in her throat.
She hadn't thought about God in years—not since her mother's death. Faith felt like a fairytale—something for people who hadn't been through real-life storms.
But Jamal? He was real. Unshaken. Confident in something greater than himself.
And for the first time in a long time, Taylor felt something she didn't recognize.
Hope.
Falling for Faith (and Maybe a Man, Too)
The day before Jamal's contract ended, Taylor took him out to lunch.
"I have to admit," she said over a plate of shrimp and grits, "you actually helped more than I expected."
Jamal smirked. "So you're saying I was right?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm saying… maybe I judged you too quickly."
Jamal leaned in, his voice softer. "And what about judging God too quickly?"
She swallowed hard.
For the first time in forever, she wasn't sure she had all the answers.
Jamal smiled. "You don't have to figure it all out today. Just know… God's been waiting for you to come back. And He's not mad. He's just glad you're still here."
Taylor blinked away unexpected tears. She wasn't sure what scared her more—the fact that Jamal's words struck something deep inside her…
Or the fact that she never wanted to say goodbye to him.
"Jamal," she started, but he held up a hand.
"I know, I know. You're too busy for distractions." His grin was teasing, but his eyes were warm. "That's okay. I can wait."
She smirked. "Oh, so you want to be a distraction?"
He chuckled. "I want to be whatever God needs me to be." He met her gaze. "And if that includes being a man you can trust? Well… I'm open to that too."
For the first time in a long time, Taylor felt something unexpected.
A flicker of faith.
And maybe—just maybe—something that looked a whole lot like love.
The End (Or Maybe Just the Beginning)
As Taylor stands at this crossroads in her life, both her business and her heart are opening to new possibilities. The story that began with desperation in a boardroom continues with hope for the future—in her career, her faith, and perhaps even in love.
©2025 Dr. Delisa Rodgers. Liberty River Industries, LLC.
Chapter 2
A Different Kind of Consultant
Taylor Reed didn’t like surprises.
She built Reed & Co. Consulting with a five-year plan, a structured hiring process, and a refusal to be caught off guard. But as she stood in the conference room waiting for Jamal Carter to arrive, she had an uneasy feeling that this meeting was about to derail her expectations.
Mia, her assistant, popped her head in. “He’s here.”
Taylor straightened her blazer, reminding herself that this was strictly business. She wasn’t here for small talk, she wasn’t here to be impressed, and she certainly wasn’t here for some faith-based motivational speaker trying to ‘fix’ her company with Bible verses and optimism.
The door opened, and Jamal walked in.
Taylor’s first mistake was looking up too quickly.
Oh.
Her second mistake was staring for too long.
The man was tall—not just regular tall, but the kind of tall that made a woman rethink her shoe choices. He wore a navy-blue suit that was so well-tailored it had to be custom, and his deep brown skin was smooth like he had never known stress a day in his life. Confident, collected, and completely at ease.
The type of man who never second-guessed himself.
This was bad.
“Ms. Reed,” he greeted smoothly, extending his hand.
Taylor gripped his hand briefly—firm, professional, no nonsense. But his touch was warm, and his grip had the kind of steadiness that said I don’t fold under pressure.
Jamal’s eyes held hers for a second longer than necessary. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Taylor pulled her hand back and nodded toward a seat. “Let’s get started.”
Focus, Taylor.
He sat down, casually unbuttoning his suit jacket, exuding the kind of calm that irritated her just a little.
“So,” Taylor began, flipping open a folder, “Reed & Co. is at a crossroads. We’re one of the top corporate consulting firms in the city, but lately, employee retention is down, productivity is low, and investor confidence is shaky. I brought you in because I need a business strategy, not a sermon.”
Jamal leaned back slightly and nodded. “Understood. But if I may ask—when was the last time you had a real conversation with your employees?”
Taylor frowned. “I have meetings every week.”
He chuckled. “No, I mean a real conversation. Not about deadlines. Not about sales projections. Just… a conversation.”
Taylor crossed her arms. “And what exactly does that have to do with profit margins?”
Jamal rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “Everything.”
Taylor exhaled sharply. “Look, I get it. You’re one of those corporate culture guys. You want team-building exercises and leadership retreats where we all hold hands and talk about our feelings.”
Jamal’s lips twitched. “Something like that.”
Taylor glanced down at his résumé. “You’ve worked with Fortune 500 companies, major law firms, tech startups. And your success rate is impressive. But every one of your past clients mentions the same thing—‘Jamal doesn’t just rebuild businesses, he restores people.’ What exactly does that mean?”
Jamal tilted his head slightly. “It means I don’t just focus on strategy. I focus on heart. Because the biggest issues in any company aren’t always financial—they’re foundational. **People don’t work well in broken environments.**”
Taylor let out a slow breath. “And I suppose you think my company is… broken?”
Jamal’s expression was kind, but direct. “I think your company reflects its leader.”
Taylor stiffened.
Jamal leaned forward. “Ms. Reed, when was the last time you took a moment to breathe? To rest? To check on your own heart?”
Taylor didn’t like this conversation.
She was here to discuss business solutions, not personal introspection. She wasn’t about to let some corporate consultant start poking around in her life like he had her all figured out.
She lifted her chin. “I didn’t hire a therapist. I hired a consultant.”
Jamal held her gaze, calm and unwavering. “Sometimes, Ms. Reed, **the two aren’t that different.**”
Taylor inhaled sharply, feeling something stir inside her.
This man was dangerous.
Not because he was arrogant, or dismissive, or condescending like most men in her field—no, he was dangerous because he saw too much.
Jamal smiled, then sat back. “Alright. Let’s talk numbers. What’s your current plan for increasing revenue?”
Taylor blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift back to business. But she was grateful for it.
She cleared her throat and forced herself to focus. “We’re considering a brand refresh, some new service packages, and possibly a marketing overhaul.”
Jamal nodded. “Okay. And what’s your plan for restoring trust among your employees?”
Taylor frowned. “I… well, we’re implementing a mentorship program.”
Jamal gave her a knowing look. “That’s a nice corporate response. But trust isn’t built through programs—it’s built through **leadership.**”
Taylor sighed. “And let me guess. You think the real solution is faith.”
Jamal’s lips twitched again. “I think the real solution is balance. You’re running a company like a machine, but it’s made of people. And people need **vision, purpose, and yes… faith.**”
Taylor exhaled. This was going to be a long contract.
Jamal stood up and buttoned his jacket. “I’ll send over my initial assessment and some recommendations. In the meantime…” He hesitated, then met her gaze with a softer expression. “Just consider that maybe your company isn’t the only thing that needs a reset.”
Taylor’s stomach did a weird little flip.
She straightened. “Noted.”
Jamal smiled, nodded once, and walked out.
The moment the door closed, Taylor let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
Mia peeked her head in, grinning. “Sooooo… how’d it go?”
Taylor shot her a look. “Get out.”
Mia laughed and disappeared down the hall.
Taylor ran a hand through her hair and let out a slow breath.
Jamal Carter was going to be a problem.
But for the first time in a long time, Taylor had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the worst thing.
Maybe this was the beginning of something she hadn’t even known she needed.