Dirty Playboy - Alex Wolf Page 0,5

me. Yeah, he’s cute. So what? Maybe he causes little flutters now and then when I see him. Who cares? He’s also a compulsive liar and blatant misogynist; when I’m not around, anyway. He’s never done it in front of me, but every single other woman I work with has told horror stories of his behavior.

I don’t see Rick anywhere as I walk up to Pastor Jeremiah, and it’s a welcome distraction from these feelings floating around inside me. I just adore him. He’s so much fun. The man has to be past eighty, silver-white hair, wrinkles everywhere, hunched shoulders, but he’s still sharp as a tack and a ton of fun. Doesn’t take himself too seriously like most church leaders. In fact, he may be the most playful pastor I’ve ever known. Truth be told, I might’ve moved back to Dallas a long time ago if it weren’t for him and this church. I love it here.

“Are the deposits ready?” I smile as I walk up to the pew.

“Women, they even want the Lord’s money.”

I burst into a laugh. “You’ve been hanging out with you know who too long.” I fake-scold him with my hands on my hips, barely able to control my grin.

A throat clears from across the room in the shadows. I glance over and see Rick smiling right at me, letting me know he’s here and he knows I’m referring to him. I shoot a glare back at him to let him know he’s not off the hook for this morning. Not to mention, Rick is like a puppy. If I give him any attention, I wear him as a shadow everywhere I go, it just gets worse.

“Like Jesus, I’m only interested in truth.” Jeremiah smiles and hands me the deposit bag with the cash.

I shove it down in my purse. “Did you write down how much it was?”

Jeremiah stares at me like I have three heads.

I sigh. “Never mind, I’ll make sure it’s all accounted for in the software when I do the bookkeeping.” I’m so glad I got them on a digital system to let people transfer tithes electronically, to reduce the amounts of bills. These deposits were thousands of dollars in checks and cash each week, and now it’s only a few hundred. “I’ll drop it at the bank in the morning. You need anything else before I head out of here?”

“I think we’re good. Thanks, Mary.”

I give him a little nod. “No problem. Happy to help.”

Rick’s still pretending to clean some of the stained-glass windows on the wall, but I can see him watching me from the corner of his eye.

Ugh! He’s going to try and talk to me. I don’t want to talk to Rick right now. I was almost in a good mood again, then I saw his fake smile he always wears around me, with his fake Bible knowledge he memorizes.

Gah, I’m the worst. I shouldn’t judge him. I should be happy he’s making an effort, reading the Bible. Why does he get under my skin so bad? And why do I enable it so much? It’s because I’m too nice. People always say I’m too nice, like it’s a bad thing. I don’t get it. But now I’m starting to understand a little better. Sometimes you have to assert yourself, and I’m slowly learning that lesson.

I lean over to Jeremiah. “Run interference for me, so I can sneak out of here?”

His eyes light up and he turns his head. “Rick, can you come here? Need some help with something.”

I whisper, “I owe you one,” and bolt up the aisle as Rick heads at the wrong angle to go see what Jeremiah wants.

I can see the frustration on his face out of the corner of my eye as I power-walk toward the exit. Rick doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to leave Jeremiah hanging, and he doesn’t want to sprint to cut me off and make his intentions clear. Plus, you can’t just ignore an eighty-year-old man who asks a favor. It makes you a jerk, and even Rick has some standards.

I think.

I can’t believe it. As I close the distance to the door, I might just make it out unscathed and in a good mood.

I walk out into the fresh, downtown Chicago air, and head up the sidewalk to my car. Skyscrapers float by overhead as I round a corner and turn up the block. There’s a homeless man there, panhandling for change. Weird. I’ve never