The Rich Life

By Madison Getchell

When Zoey Richards, a spoiled New York City socialite, decided to get into her car and drive high and drunk, the last thing she expected to happen was to die and go to heaven. But when her car accident leaves her dead for two minutes, she finds herself face-to-face with Jesus, who sends her back to live her life for Him.

 

When she awakens, she suddenly has the ability to hear God's voice. Now, with a changed perspective and some specific requests from God, she starts to live out His plan, despite her friends and boyfriend thinking she's gone insane. Zoey begins a new chapter of her life that leads her to discover what authentic love looks like and what it truly means to live The Rich Life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Madison Getchell
• Release date: Feb 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215949986

Madison Getchell

Madison Getchell is an American author, wife, and mother. Any given day, you can find her writing, daydreaming, eating chocolate, or watching Audrey Hepburn movies. Maybe all at once. She discovered her love for writing when she was quite young and hasn’t stopped writing since. For her, writing is more than a hobby—it’s her passion, and she believes it was put on her heart for a grand purpose. She currently lives in Montana with her husband and two children, and she is continually drawing inspiration from their wonderful life together.

Book preview

Prologue:

I never gave the idea of God much thought before the day of my accident. I thought I was happily living out my reckless, no-responsibility life, but that day changed everything. I came face-to-face with the Maker, and there was no turning back.

The way I see it, God is like a morning alarm clock. We hear Him, but we choose to ignore Him for as long as possible. He speaks to us, constantly trying to get our attention, but we put our heads under the pillow hoping maybe He’ll go away. But He just continues to get louder and louder until it becomes impossible to ignore, and we just can’t help but answer the call.

My name is Zoey Richards. Yes, that Zoey Richards—daughter of multibillionaire hotel and resort tycoon, Stanley Richards. Sure, at first, there was nothing more to me than a brand-name dress and a shallow outlook, but that’s not the whole story of me. My story really starts with the day of my death, or rather, my rebirth. But in order to really understand the story, you have to understand who I was before my rebirth as a follower of Christ, before God made it impossible for me to ignore Him any longer.

Chapter 1

Sweetie, are you all right in there? I tapped the bathroom door. We were at an A-list penthouse party thrown by the son of a possible future president. His father might have been running for president in the next term, but his son was running for party animal of the year.

Alyssa puked again.

I should totally get paid for this. Here I was at what possibly could be the it party of the year babysitting my number two friend.

You know, next time you should really slow down on the shots. Vodka always makes you sick, I told her through the door.

How’s she doing? my best friend, Vera, asked as she came up to me. Her real name was Veronica, but she hated to be called anything other than Vera.

I made a face. Still puking.

She made a face to match mine. Ew, she said simply and then took a few steps away from the door and motioned for me to follow. Why do we have to pretend to care that she’s puking again? she then whispered.

Why did people pretend with anyone in this city? For personal gain, of course.

Because she owns one of the hottest nightclubs in this city, I answered. And if that’s not enough, because her mom is, like, the number one plastic surgeon in New York City. What if we need our noses done? I pointed out.

She nodded. Oh, she said and smiled. You’re so genius.

I shrugged and smiled then too.

Vera and I had known each other since we were kids. Her family came from old money, and her dad had invested in my dad’s hotel and resort company. Our dads became good friends, especially after my father’s hotel chain made it huge. Vera and I were destined to be best friends.

Finally, the bathroom door opened, and a sickly Alyssa stepped out. She stumbled a little, and I took her arm, knowing the drill. I started toward the door to take her downstairs to her driver so he could deal with her.

Zoey, you leaving already? Jay, the host and party animal himself, asked.

I shook my head and motioned at the nearly unconscious Alyssa. No. Just taking her to her babysitter.

He nodded and then went off to do more shots.

I led Alyssa to the elevator.

Zoey, you are such a good friend, she slurred when we were in the elevator. "You are my best friend," she told me.

I nodded, unconvinced.

No, I’m serious. You’re the best, she breathed into my face, and I almost gagged.

I get it, I replied, happy when the elevator door opened, and we were on the main level of the building. I drug her outside as her limo driver, Andrew, spotted us immediately.

He hopped out of the driver seat and went to open the back, passenger door to help me put her in. Always the first to go, he commented as we slid her in the back seat. Well, I appreciate you getting her out of the party safely, he told me.

I nodded. Yeah. Have a good night, Andrew.

You too, Miss Richards, he told me and got into the limo to take her home.

I went back inside to the penthouse party. The music had been turned up, and people were dancing while others were doing shots or cocaine in the dining room.

This was a typical party for New York’s elite. I never did the drugs anymore, but I did frequently get drunk. We were so rich, but apparently couldn’t live with ourselves. So, we wasted our family’s funds living a hedonistic life. As long as we showed up to the occasional charity event or gala, no one cared what we did.

Here I was: twenty-eight, unemployed, but filthy rich because my daddy paid me off not to bug him or my mom. My parents lived in Monaco and only came back for business ventures. Their business was their baby. I was just an accident that happened after a night filled with too much champagne.

Even as a child, they were never around. It made for a lonely, selfish existence, but I couldn’t complain. I was raised by a nanny like most of us rich kids. She was more of a mom than my real one. Her name was Romy, and at the time, she was a forty-year-old widow with no children of her own. She always told me that God had her exactly where He wanted her, that she might not have been able to have kids of her own, but she could sure be a mother-figure to a child whose parents weren’t always around. I didn’t see her much now, but when I was younger, she was always there for me and always would be, but now she was married, and my lifestyle took precedence over seeing my nanny.

My lifestyle, however, always had people criticizing me. They boiled everything down to me simply being a spoiled brat whose life is pathetic and unfulfilling, but in all honesty, it was all I had ever known. Now, I know that’s no excuse, but why work for something if it’s just handed to me? Plus, my parents owed me for the emotional damage they had caused me by never being around. I didn’t care if I was wasting away my life as long as I got to waste their money on my frivolous spending. It was my only way of getting back at them. I knew it was childish, but I didn’t care.

So, like most nights, I didn’t get home until a little after four in the morning. After hours of drinking and dancing, I was exhausted, and I collapsed onto my bed, knowing I had zero responsibilities awaiting me.

I awoke the next day to my boyfriend, Christopher, shaking me out of my slumber. You’re still in bed? he asked, not really sounding surprised. Babe, wake up.

I groaned as I opened my eyes to see him standing by my bed.

What time is it? I asked groggily.

Almost noon, he answered.

I put my pillow over my head. It’s too early, I replied.

Don’t give me that too early nonsense, he said as he tore the pillow from me. "You know what I’ve already done today? I worked out, had a meeting with the former senator of New Jersey, talked campaign with my father, and donated ten thousand dollars to save the turtles."

Christopher was planning on becoming the next senator of New York. We started dating two years ago, and his mindset was always to become a high-standing political figure. He worked as an assemblyman for the state of New York, which I thought sounded completely boring. He told me he basically made sure the people in his district were fairly represented and felt they had a voice in matters that concerned the state. It just sounded like a bunch of kissing butts to me. Still, if he was passionate about it, then I was there to support him. I had known from the beginning that his work was his life.

We had met at a land developing meeting. My dad wanted to tear down a building and rebuild it as a hotel. Now, I normally didn’t go to that sort of thing, but it was the only chance I had to see my dad before he left for overseas again. Christopher was the assembly member present because it had to do with his district. He didn’t just have attractive looks, but when I saw how unmoved he was by my father’s wealth and power, I knew I had to have him. Any man willing to say no to my father was okay in my books. I asked him out to dinner, and the rest was history.

He went to my bathroom medicine cabinet and got me out some ibuprofen for my hangover. How late were you out last night? he wondered as he handed me a couple pills and a glass of water.

I sat up slowly and happily received any help for my headache. Well, it turned out to be pretty late. I was going to go home early, but then the host started showing us his party tricks using a meat mallet and—

Sounds fun, Christopher answered not even listening to me because he was now looking at his phone.

And then I had crazy sex with Senator Fields, I then stated just to see if he was listening.

Senator Fields would probably have another heart attack if he attempted that, he replied and gave me a look.

I smiled. "Well, do you want to have crazy sex then?" I wondered seductively. Well, as seductive as I could be with a hangover.

Sorry, can’t. I have a one-o-clock meeting with a constituent, he replied.

It was always business with him. It was okay though. I had gotten used to it a long time ago.

Suddenly, his phone beeped. Oh, got to go. Take it easy on the late-night parties, please. Remember, my image relies on your image, he told me and gave me a kiss on my forehead.

I nodded as he started toward the door.

Dinner tomorrow night, he said as he paused in my bedroom threshold. You, me, and some French cuisine.

I smiled. Sounds good.

He left then, and I decided to get up and figure out what I was going to do today. I had already spent a couple thousand dollars yesterday on some new outfits, and unfortunately, I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted at the moment.

This was usually how it went. I would stay out super late, wake up in the afternoon, spend some money, and then start all over again. Christopher was the only thing that kept me sane most days. He was the anchor to my very unstable life and one of the few constants I had besides Vera.

At two, I was feeling lonely in my silent penthouse, so I called Vera. She was always down to hang out because her life was basically just like mine.

I’m feeling like a latte. You want to come with me? I wondered after she answered.

Definitely. I could use a caffeine boost after last night, she replied. Meet me at that one coffee shop around the corner from that sushi restaurant we hate in twenty minutes?

Perfect. See you then, I said and ended the call.

The coffee shop she was referring to was only a few blocks away from my building and only a few minutes away from Vera’s building. It wasn’t my go-to place, but it would do.

After waiting around a few minutes, I grabbed my couture handbag and put on a pair of my designer shoes and made my way to the lobby.

Will you be needing a car this afternoon, Miss Richards? the in-house valet asked as I walked out the front doors. I didn’t care to know his name, but I did like to watch the workers squirm to do whatever I wanted them to.

I shook my head and put on my sunglasses. Nope. I’m going to walk, I let him know.

It didn’t take me but five minutes to reach the coffee shop, and Vera was already waiting for me, looking effortlessly put together in her latest designer outfit and perfectly done brunette balayage hair.

Ugh, good, she said as I approached her. Lowlife men kept giving me catcalls.

They can dream on, I replied as she opened the door. As if they would ever have a chance with us. I paused as I thought. Actually, broach the subject again if I’m thirty and not married to Christopher yet, I told her, and she laughed.

The coffee shop was called The Coffee Grind. It was quaint and in the perfect spot for people heading to work in the morning. At this time, there weren’t many people in there, but considering it was two in the afternoon, it wasn’t a surprise.

There were only a few people working, so we stood at the register for a moment before one of the girls came to take Vera’s order. Which was pretty ridiculous considering it wasn’t even that busy.

After Vera had ordered, they took forever to get to me.

Hi, sorry about the wait, the girl spoke.

I didn’t reply to her apology. I’ll take a tall, iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte, I ordered. "With almond milk," I then demanded.

She nodded and input the order as a man behind her started to make my drink.

Can I get a name for that? she asked as I paid with my credit card.

Impatient, I replied.

She gave me a look but realized by my attitude I wasn’t joking.

Nothing like incompetent workers.

We stood at the counter where they handed out drinks and waited. Vera got hers after a few minutes, but as if they didn’t get the memo about my impatience, they took forever to make my drink.

I turned to Vera. How long does it take to make one drink? I asked, and she shrugged. Well, I’d imagine it’s difficult keeping good workers in a subpar place, I went on. I mean, seriously, how bad did you have to be in your past life to get stuck working in a place like this? I swear all these people working here are probably uneducated underachievers who can’t do anything but take people’s orders.

She laughed as someone cleared their throat to get our attention.

Here’s your latte made by an uneducated underachiever, the man who had made my drink said as he handed me my latte.

I gaped at him as I took my drink. Were you seriously eavesdropping? I asked. Why don’t you take this order: stop butting into other peoples’ business, and go do the one thing you are probably capable of doing, I retorted and started toward the door as Vera followed.

Can you believe that guy? I asked when we were outside.

She rolled her eyes. I know. The nerve of some people.

I sipped my latte. It wasn’t actually too bad, but I’d never admit that out loud.

Suddenly Vera’s face lit up. So, Chanel just came out with the cutest line of purses. Let’s go buy some, she said as we walked down the street.

I nodded enthusiastically. Anything to get my mind off how angry I was at the man in the coffee shop. If my dad ever wanted to tear down a building for a new hotel, I was nominating that lot.

Chapter 2

The next night, I got ready to go out to dinner with Chris. He was going to pick me up from my place after he was finished debating against a bill to raise the cost of energy production. Honestly, it didn’t really matter to me, but he had to think of the poor people too.

A little after seven, he let himself into my apartment. I had given him a key a long time ago. I even suggested we live together, but he refused because he said it would hurt his image as a future senator, and his uptight mother would probably kill him. So, we just had frequent sleepovers.

I sprayed on some perfume and stepped out of my room feeling pretty good. I had gotten my blonde hair to curl perfectly, and I was wearing my new, little black dress and a pair of my favorite heels.

Hi, babe, I said as I went up to him and gave him a kiss. He looked handsome in his classy suit and with his light brown hair nicely done. Then again, I was pretty sure he never looked anything but perfect.

Hey, he replied and looked me over. Is that what you’re wearing? he wondered.

I nodded, suddenly feeling insecure. Yes. Why? You don’t like it? I asked.

He waved it away. It’ll do. You don’t have time to change. Let’s just go.

Christopher had always been lax on the compliments. I guess you could blame it on his super strict parents. Nothing had ever been good enough for them, and unfortunately, that trait had passed down to Chris. Still, I knew he didn’t do things to be mean. He was just too much like his father. The Carringtons were a family of political lineage. His father was a senator and retired a few years ago. His grandfather was a member of Congress, and his great-grandfather was vice president. In Christopher’s eyes, he had big shoes to fill, so he pushed himself very hard. Especially since his plan was to become a senator before he turned thirty-two.

We walked down to the main doors, and the valet pulled up in Chris’s Aston Martin. I didn’t like it as much as my Ferrari, but Christopher liked to show it off.

He took me to an elegant French restaurant on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The ambiance fit everything about my life: it was glamorous and pricey, but I expected nothing less from Chris. He always wanted the best of everything. Whether it was the best suit or the best food, he had to have it.

We were seated at a table reserved for us as Christopher had paid to reserve it from seven to nine just in case his meeting got out late. We ordered some wine, and I browsed the menu.

Aren’t you going to ask me how the meeting went? he wondered, and I looked up from my menu.

I tried to seem supportive. Oh, yeah. How did it go? I asked.

He shrugged, trying to seem modest, but in all honesty, modesty didn’t suit him. Well, I singlehandedly managed to talk the governor out of signing the bill.

I smiled. Way to go, Chris. I’m so proud of you. You’ll be senator in no time.

He looked down at the menu. That’s the plan, he agreed and then looked back up. I guess I should ask about your day, he then said, and I perked up even though I really didn’t do anything productive. How was shopping today? he asked, maybe a little patronizingly.

I didn’t go shopping today, I told him proudly. I remember you saying I should really consider budgeting, so I’ve been keeping that in mind, I paused and thought. But I might have gone over the other day because Chanel came out with a new line of purses, and Vera and I just had to have one. Plus, it was kind of therapy for how rudely we were treated at this coffee—

He held up his hand to get me to stop talking.

Zoey, you’re rambling, he told me. But I’m happy you’re keeping a budget in mind.

I went quiet then, figuring I probably didn’t have anything political enough to talk to him about.

When the waiter came, I ordered a salad. Christopher didn’t like me eating a ton of carbs. Honestly, I was the only one of my friends who actually snuck them into my diet, but Chris wanted me to look good if he was headed to become senator. I needed to look good by his side. So, no way was I risking eating carbs this late. In my world, it was all about image. You had to be the prettiest, the skinniest, and the most connected to the latest of everything. Honestly, it got exhausting, but if I wanted to compete in this dog-eat-dog world, I had to keep up. Otherwise, I was last week’s news and no longer invited to parties.

We didn’t talk much as we waited for our food to arrive. Conversations seemed to be either hit or miss with us anymore. He used to say my uninhibited lifestyle was what he loved about me, but anymore, he was so serious. I guess I just figured it balanced us out. I liked how he was so driven, and I really did admire his dreams. One day, I would settle down and figure out a future, but until then, I was okay with just doing whatever I wanted.

Our food came, and we began to eat, which freed us from the feelings of obligation to talk. But I only got a few bites in when Chris began voicing his thoughts.

So, the other day, when I was talking to my father about campaign, he brought up some good points, Chris started. For starters, I really need to focus on advertising and narrowing down what my image is going to be as the elections approach. He paused and looked to me. You know image is everything in this world, he said seriously, and I nodded, completely understanding. That’s one thing both our worlds had in common. And honestly, Zoey, my father and I just aren’t sure if your behavior is going to be good for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I need to make sure you are going to be what I need you to be, he said.

I gave him a look. And what’s that? A robot? I asked mockingly.

No, Zoey, an adult, he replied.

I scoffed, taken aback by his remark. Are you saying I’m a child? I retorted. Who did he think he was? He couldn’t talk to me like that.

We both know you refuse to grow up, he said to me as if he had no idea how deeply his words cut.

I started to get really defensive. I’m childish, am I? If that’s the way he saw me, then that’s the image I’d give him. I’ll give you childish, I promised him and pushed back my chair, threw my napkin on the table, and then climbed on top of the table.

"Zoey, what are you doing? Get down!" he commanded as he quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching me.

There weren’t many people watching me yet, but I’d make sure they all would be. So, I ignored him and grabbed my wine glass and a knife and clanked my glass. Hi. Good evening, everyone, I started, and everyone looked up from their quiet meals as a few people who recognized me started to take videos and pictures.

Zoey, you’re making a scene! Get down! Chris hissed through his teeth, still trying to keep up his image.

Again, I ignored him and kept talking. I hope everyone’s meals are fantastic, I told all the people staring at me in wonder. I just wanted to let everyone know that their dinner tonight is on this guy right here, I said and motioned to Christopher.

They all looked to each other in surprise. A few whooped and a few clapped.

I got off the table and grabbed my purse. Have a good night, Chris, I told him and walked to the front door, leaving him with a perplexed and furious look on his face.

I went outside and flagged down a taxi. I hardly ever had to take a taxi, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I gave the driver my address, and a few minutes later, we were at my building.

I paid the driver and then went into my penthouse.

When I got inside, I started pacing my living room. I was fuming. How could Christopher say those things? I had completely supported him for these past few years. Why couldn’t he just let me live my life the way I wanted to?

Realizing the last thing I wanted to do was sit in my place alone for the rest of the night, I called Vera.

Hey, Zoey! What’s up? she answered.

I exhaled, trying to calm down. I need to go out tonight to let off some steam. You down?

Definitely, but, um, I’m already going to a party. You remember that really sexy Brazilian soccer player, Felipe? Well, he’s in town again, and we’re going to Alyssa’s party together. But you can totally come, she let me know. I just thought you’d be with Christopher tonight.

So did I, I told her. But things didn’t go as planned. I’ll explain later, I assured her.

Okay. You want us to pick you up? she wondered.

No. I’ll just meet you there, I assured her.

Alyssa wasn’t only a frequent drinker; she also threw a lot of parties in the nightclub she owned. And surprisingly, they were usually pretty decent parties. All New York’s celebrities and elite showed up. I guess this night wasn’t going to be a bust after all.

I changed into a tight mini dress, unsure of what I was planning on happening tonight. I supposed I’d give Christopher a chance to apologize before I found a rebound. I really did love Chris, but I was getting tired of being treated like a child. I guess I wasn’t the most driven person in the world, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t an adult. He needed to respect me for me.

When I was ready, I picked up my phone to call my driver, Vincent, just in case I got too drunk to drive but decided against it. I wanted out of this place now. So, I got into my Ferrari and drove to Alyssa’s nightclub. On most nights, the nightclub was open to the public, but tonight, only people on a set list were allowed through the doors. This never worried me. I was always on the list.

The bouncer recognized me immediately, and I walked inside to find Vera. She was on the dance floor with Felipe, so I went to the bar and ordered a vermouth on the rocks with a twist.

I wasn’t waiting long before Vera and Felipe came over to the bar.

Zoey, Vera said throwing her arms around me. You look like you need a few drinks. Next one is on me, she told me.

Thanks, I said solemnly.

She turned to Felipe. I’ll meet you back on the dance floor, she told him, and he nodded and left. She sat down next to me and ordered a drink.

What happened? she wondered as the bartender got to work.

I made a face and took a drink. Christopher took me to this really great French restaurant, and it was going fine until he called me a child. So, I got on the table and told everyone he was paying for their food. Pretty sure we are officially broken up.

The bartender handed her a vodka tonic, and it was her turn to make a face. You got on the table? she asked.

I nodded.

Then she smiled and clinked her drink with mine. That’s my girl, she said and took a sip. He totally doesn’t deserve you. Let’s find you a rebound so hot that you forget all about Christopher.

I hesitated. How about we get me really drunk first? I suggested.

She smiled. Okay, she said happily. Bartender, we need a few rounds of tequila shots, she called to the man.

He nodded once and got on filling multiple shot glasses.

I spent the next half hour downing my drink and then doing multiple shots of tequila. When I was thoroughly drunk, we went to the dance floor to dance with anyone who wanted to dance. There were so many hot guys that forgetting about Christopher was no problem.

When we took a break from dancing, Vera slipped me a few pills of synthetic drugs called B-bombs. It was basically a form of ecstasy. I hadn’t taken drugs for a couple of years now, but seeing as Chris was now out of the picture, I figured tonight would be a good time not to care anymore. I wanted to forget everything, and I never wanted to come down from the intoxicating mixture of good music, dancing, and alcohol. So, I took them.

Honestly, I don’t really remember what happened after those kicked in. I danced a lot, unaware of the time or anything else for that matter. Vera and Felipe disappeared sometime in the night, leaving me at the club to dance off my energy. I danced with a lot of men, but I was pretty sure it never went further than that.

I didn’t really know what time it was when I left the club, but no one stopped me as I got into my Ferrari and started on a road I was pretty sure was leading me to freedom. At least, that’s what I thought the sign said. It didn’t even occur to me that it was just the drug. So, I drove away from New York City, unaware of which direction I was going.

The road began to get darker and darker as the lights from the city faded. As I drove, I was feeling more and more out of it. My high was lessening, and dehydration and exhaustion were taking its place.

I thought about turning around, but for some reason, I just kept driving. I was one of the few people out on this road at this time. It was so quiet, so still. It was an opposite of the turmoil of my life, and I found a strange peace on that road.

A car heading in the opposite direction approached my car, and for a moment, I was blinded by their headlights, mesmerized by the brightness of them. The car passed, and my eyes caught a figure standing on the side of the dark road, fast approaching. Before I had time to react, the figure hopped onto the road, revealing itself as a deer.

Unthinkingly, I jerked the wheel to miss it, and the car smashed through the guardrail and flipped off the road toward the trees lining it. It tumbled twice before it hit a tree, halting the crushed car and knocking me unconscious.

Chapter 3

I wasn’t sure when I had gone from blacked-out in my car to observing myself in a hospital room. My lifeless body was on the bed, and I stared as a doctor and two nurses rushed to try to revive me. The monitor had flat-lined, and it was only a few moments before a bright light surrounded me. I wasn’t afraid, merely perplexed as to what was happening.

Before I knew it, I was opening my eyes to what looked to be my parent’s cabin in Maine. It had been my favorite place to go as a child, but they had sold it when they moved overseas. Still, I knew I wasn’t truly in Maine.

I turned to see a man walking up a dirt path to meet me. I knew who He was immediately. I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t nervous. I just felt utter joy and peace.

Jesus smiled at me as He reached me.

Is this heaven? I asked Him.

Yes, He answered.

My question wasn’t really to affirm my location. It was more of a wondering of how I got here. If heaven and God were real, that meant hell was real. I wasn’t a good person. Shouldn’t I have gone to hell?

Am I...dead? I asked, almost not believing I could have died, but at the moment, I really had no urge to be on Earth anyway.

No, Zoey, He told me. Sorry for the difficult exit. I needed a way to talk to you, but you are not dead.

My mind was trying to sort everything out. Then why am I here? I asked and then continued. I didn’t believe in You. I don’t deserve to be here with You.

All my guilt and shame were threatening to weigh me down, and I fell to my knees, realizing just how real everything was. I was in front of the Creator of the universe, and I had spent my whole