Bishop's Desire

by Normandie Alleman

  “What? Why?” My heart sank like a stone. Just when I was getting so close to my goal!

  “I have a cousin who needs work. You’ll have to split the job with him. I’m sorry but family comes first. You’re lucky I’m not letting you go altogether.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She was right. She owned the place. She could do what she liked, which was exactly why I wanted my own shop. So I didn’t have to depend on others for my livelihood. I wanted to do it myself.

  When I wandered out to my car, it was already daylight and the rest of the world was heading to work. Exhausted, I wondered what the hell I was going to do now.

  A week later, I drove over to St. John’s gymnasium to meet my friend Pepper Thibodaux for her nephew’s basketball game. We’d been trying to get together for weeks, but our schedules were so different we kept missing each other. My only day off coincided with Lance’s game, and since I was a basketball fan and I’d known the kid since he was a baby, I was glad to come support him. I could catch up with Pepper at the same time.

  Pepper and I had been friends since we were in grade school together. We’d graduated from the same high school, and I’d known everyone in her family forever. It never failed to impress me the way her big family stuck together and even with their busy schedules, made time for things like a seventh grader’s basketball game.

  The Thibodaux family owned several of the finest dining establishments in New Orleans and I’d gotten my first job waiting tables in one of her parents’ seafood restaurants. Pepper was currently serving as manager of their flagship restaurant, Evangeline, but she was preparing for a special culinary school abroad that her parents were paying for to get her ready to open her own restaurant when she returned.

  I wasn’t exactly covetous of the opportunity that lay before my friend, but I would have killed to have someone backing me like that. Instead, I expected to have to go back to dancing soon to be able to stay on track saving for my own shop. Mrs. Bain cutting my hours was going to hurt.

  As I pulled in to the parking lot, I saw Pepper getting out of her car. You couldn’t miss her fiery red curls flying everywhere. Her father had always joked that she’d been named for the spicy red cayenne pepper, and nobody doubted it.

  Putting my broken-down old hoopty into park, I tried not to compare my ride to Pepper’s white Mercedes, which had been a graduation present from her parents.

  I got out of the car and before I could take two steps, Pepper was right there, enveloping me in a bear hug. The Thibodaux were a demonstrative bunch.

  “Hey, girl!” Pepper enthused. “How’ve you been? Omigod, I love your hair!”

  A couple of days ago, I’d gone a little nuts with the scissors and chopped my hair all off. The end result had been tragic so I’d gone to a friend of a friend’s who happened to be a hairdresser and she turned it into a pixie cut. Now it looked like I meant to do it.

  “Thanks. I thought Vince was going to fire me over it.”

  Pepper frowned. “Screw him.”

  “No thanks.”

  We both laughed.

  “It looks adorable. What’s his problem?” she asked.

  “He thinks dancers should have long hair.” I shrugged. “Says that’s what men find attractive.”

  Pepper made a face. “But I thought you were waitressing now.”

  I sighed, not wanting to get into my latest backslide. “It’s fine.”

  “Better than fine. You look like a million bucks. It brings out your pretty brown eyes. I love it.”

  “Thanks. So, who are we playing?” I hooked my arm through hers as we walked towards the gym entrance.

  “The Scarlet Knights of St. Paul’s. They’re over from Placquemine parish.”

  “Nice. How is Lance’s season going?”

  “Pretty good,” Pepper said and launched into a detailed account of all her nephew’s challenges and successes over the past several games. The way I knew she would.

  Just listening to her chatter on about things so removed from my own trials and tribulations calmed my nerves. Being around Pepper’s big family always made me feel a part of something wonderful, even if I was relegated to the periphery. They were as warm and lively as a roaring fire, and I was content to sit alongside and warm my hands next to them.

  We walked inside and Pepper snagged us a couple of seats in front of the dozen or so Thibodaux who’d gathered to cheer on the St. John’s Hurricanes.

  “What number is Lance?” I asked.

  “Thirty. He thinks he’s Steph Curry,” Pepper’s brother Stirling teased, leaning over my shoulder. “Hey, Chloe. How’ve you been?” Stirling and I had worked together in the Thibodaux kitchens. He’d always been a cut up.

  I laughed. “Got it. I’m fine, Stirling. How’re you?”

  “Can’t complain,” he said before settling back in his seat.

  The players from both teams made their way onto the court and started warm ups.

  “So how is everything going?” Pepper asked.

  This was exactly what I didn’t want to talk about. But Pepper was the closest person to me. The only one I could talk to about most stuff, so I told her. “Mrs. Bain is cutting my hours back starting next week.”

  “Oh crap. What are you going to do?”

  “I hate to say it but I’m going to have to go back to dancing, at least for a few shifts a week.”

  “Oh, that sucks.” Pepper knew how much I hated the dancing, especially the lap dancing, which made me feel dirtier than a hooker who hadn’t bathed in a week.

  “Tell me about it, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Come work for Mom and Pop again. I’m sure they could give you something.”

  “Yeah, but it won’t be enough money, hon. You know I appreciate the opportunity. I just have to suck it up and deal with it. It won’t be for much longer anyway. I’ve only got a few months left, then I’ll have enough for my own shop.”

  “Really? That’s exciting then.”

  Crossing my fingers, I said, “Yeah, I found a great location. I just hope it will still be available when I have the money.” I knew it was unlikely the way New Orleans economy was growing, but I couldn’t help but be optimistic.

  Across the basketball court, a handsome man came out from behind a door and walked purposely toward the sideline. Something about him looked familiar. “Hey, Pepper?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Who’s that man?”

  “Which one?”

  “The one wearing the collar.” The instant the words left my mouth, I realized where I’d seen him. He was the priest who’d helped the drunk man who vomited all over Lulu’s. What the hell was he doing here, at this kids’ basketball game?

  “Oh, that’s Lance’s coach. Bishop Soto, I think is his name. I think they call him Coach Soto though, except at church.”

  “So he’s a priest and a basketball coach?”

  “Yep. He might teach a class or two at Lance’s school as well. I’m not sure. Why?”

  “Nothing. I just feel like I’ve seen him before.”

  “Have you ever been to St. John’s on Sunday?”

  “Nope.”

  “I have. He’s kinda hot. Might be worth a trip to church.” Pepper nudged me with her knee, giggling.

  “I’m not really the church going type, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Pepper threw an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “I know. Things will turn around for you soon, Chloe. I just know it.”

  The boys on the court lined up for the tip-off.

  “Here they go,” I said, but my eyes were glued to Reverend Soto rather than on the game. I watched him pace up and down the sidelines as if he were the only show in town. He kept his cool. Even when his boys screwed up. Even when the ref blew a call. He offered his players advice and encouragement with just the right amount of authority and leadership. His above average height and the graceful way he moved told me he’d probably been a basketball player himself back in the day. I gues
sed his age to be about thirty, but it was hard to tell. The scruffy beard might make him look older than he was.

  With the game tied at halftime, the players and coaches headed off into the locker rooms. Nature was calling, so I excused myself. On the way back from the restroom, I almost bumped into Bishop Soto, who stood at the water fountain filling up his water bottle.

  The minute I saw him I felt my cheeks warm. He was intently focused on his task and I intended to walk right past him, but that plan flew out the window when he looked up and saw me.

  He furrowed his brow and I could see he was trying to place me the way I’d tried to recall him earlier. Silently I prayed he wouldn’t remember, but I couldn’t be that lucky.

  Other people were starting to mill around us, and when he pointed at me and asked, “Vixen, right?” I wanted to crawl under the floorboards.

  “Actually, it’s Chloe. Chloe Thomas.” I stuck my hand out awkwardly, and he saved me by taking it and shaking it with what I considered to be the perfect amount of firmness. It could have been my imagination, but it felt like he had held on for a bit longer than necessary.

  “Oh. Well, hi Chloe. I’m Eduardo Soto. Do you have a friend or relative playing or are you just a fan of middle school basketball?” His smile pierced my heart, and I wished he was still holding my hand.

  “A friend of mine is on your team. Lance Thibodaux. I mean, I’m a friend of the family’s. The Thibodaux that is.” Why did I keep babbling? It’s not like I needed to justify my being here.

  “Lance. He’s a good kid. One of my best players.”

  I leaned in. “Are you supposed to say that?”

  He bent his head to mine. “Probably not. Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered conspiratorially.

  I felt a silly grin spread across my face. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  He took a sip of his water then said, “Well, I’ve got to get back to my team, but it was nice to see you again, Vix—I mean Chloe.”

  “You too,” I said and watched him disappear though the door to the gym. I felt only a little guilty for thinking he had a nice, tight ass underneath those khaki pants of his.

  Episcopal priests didn’t have to be celibate, did they?

  With a sigh, I remembered they did, however, have to be married to fornicate.

  I couldn’t tell you anything else that happened during that basketball game other than that Lance’s team won, and that the more I watched Coach Soto, the more infatuated I became. The man was hot, pure and simple. And the calm, self-assured way he coached those boys only made him more attractive.

  After the game was over I made a hasty retreat, desperate not to run the risk of seeing him again. My mind had already started thinking the sorts of lustful thoughts one should never have about a priest, and besides, the opposite sex was the last thing I needed to be thinking about.

  As difficult as it might be, I was going to have to vanquish Bishop Hottie from my thoughts and focus my energy on saving for my own bakery and the work it would take to get me there.

  3

  Eduardo

  The intercom on my desk buzzed. “Crawford Banks is here to see you.”

  My secretary Kay was back in the office after taking the previous week off. She’d remained tight-lipped upon her return, but from what I gathered the relationship between her and George was strained.

  “Send him in. Thank you, Kay.”

  I steeled myself. Crawford banks was the head of the vestry, that group of men who took care of church business. I’d always felt that Crawford was not happy with anyone else besides him having the power in the church. He was often a lay reader at services and was usually the loudest voice at church meetings. He was the kind of guy who liked to pick the opposing side of an argument just for the sake of arguing.

  More than one encounter with Crawford had sent me searching for verses in the Bible to remind myself why patience is a virtue.

  Crawford walked through the door impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit that had been tailored specifically for him. It made me self-conscious of my short sleeve shirt and khakis that I usually wore to work. At least the collar firmly planted me in my position as well as the fact that I sat behind the desk.

  “Good afternoon, Crawford to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Without being asked, he sat down in one of the chairs across the desk then kicked one leg over the other in a posture intended to show me how comfortable he was in my office.

  “I’m not sure you will describe this visit as a pleasure once I tell you why I’m here.”

  This guy hadn’t liked me from the start, and he’s always looking for ways to undermine me. Lately he’s been ramping it up so I couldn’t wait to hear what he was up to now.

  “Sounds ominous,” I said, my heart rate increasing slightly.

  “We have discovered there are some discrepancies in some of the church accounts.”

  “Discrepancies?”

  “Yes. There is money that is missing and unaccounted for in the Rector’s fund. We are going to need receipts from all of your purchases and expenditures for the last two years.”

  “I see. That shouldn’t be a problem. An inconvenience, but nothing I can’t provide.”

  “I believe you have been stealing money from the church and using it for personal gain and I’m going to put a stop to this.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’ve done no such thing. I do have a salary as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about you using the church’s money to fund extravagances on your part that are not endorsed by the parish.”

  “Can you be more specific? If I knew what you were looking for it might help me explain any ‘discrepancies’ as you say.”

  “I don’t have to give you an explanation,” Crawford snarled.

  I eyed him suspiciously. “Interesting. Crawford, I’m not sure what your problem is, but my financial conduct is above reproach. I’ve done nothing to instigate this sort of witch hunt. However, I will be happy to provide you with whatever documents you need. Is there someone who’s handling this investigation as it were?”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I am an attorney so I will be heading up this investigation. And you can rest assured that I will not stop until I have you ousted from this parish and hopefully defrocked.”

  The man couldn’t be serious. I wasn’t sure where he was coming up with these trumped up ideas that I was stealing money from the church, but it was crazy. I knew he disliked me, probably wanted a yes-man puppet in my position, but as far as I knew he was the only one. I was the youngest bishop in our diocese and had often been called the pride of the church. Perhaps this favored status was what really chapped his ass.

  Taking a deep breath, I got to my feet. “Well, Crawford, I appreciate you stopping by and making your intentions known. See that you send instructions in writing for what information you require, and I will start gathering it. But I’m afraid I have a sermon to prepare and a game to coach later, so if you will excuse me . . .”

  Crawford narrowed his beady little eyes at me. “Just so you know,” he said rising from the chair, “this is only the beginning.”

  I wanted to ask “Of what?” but I decided not to give him the satisfaction. I wanted him out of my office, so I ignored his remark and told him to have a nice day.

  His face reddened and he slammed the door on the way out.

  My hands shook slightly and I felt an unusually strong craving for a cigarette. I hadn’t smoked in years, but in that moment I would have loved to have felt the sweet calm of nicotine hitting my bloodstream.

  Instead I hit the intercom button. “Kay, I need you to come in here when you have a minute. We’ve got a problem.”

  4

  Eduardo

  A week had passed since I’d seen Chloe at the basketball game, and I still couldn’t get her out of my mind. I was thinking about her all day long like a teenager with a crush on the prettiest girl i
n school, and it was embarrassing. I was glad no one else could read my thoughts because they were utterly inappropriate.

  Before I’d entered seminary I’d been quite the player. I’d been a basketball player in college and that made it easy to get girls. I’d had skills on the court, but I wasn’t good enough to go pro.

  Back then women had been fun for me—a game, like gambling and partying. My life had been a mix of hedonism and hardcore athletic training. But that all ended when some of my buddies and I got into a horrific car accident. One of my friends wound up dead on the side of the road, one wound up paralyzed from the waist down, the guy who was driving went to jail for a year. How did I cope with it? I became a priest.

  Nothing like watching your friends’ lives destroyed to make you realize that “there but by the grace of God, go I.” For a long time I wondered why I’d been spared. Survivor’s guilt they call it. Why hadn’t I been the one who would never walk again—whose dick would never work again? Why hadn’t I died or gotten locked up? I deserved it as much as my friends did.

  I wandered around lost for a while. I gave up the parties and the girls, but I didn’t have any direction and I didn’t have any biological family left.

  When I was little, my mom worked on a ranch in Southern California taking care of horses. That was where I grew up. We had a small cabin at the back of the property, and I lived there until I was twelve. One day I was running around with livestock, taking the bus to public school, and the next my mother told me I was being sent to a boarding school on the other side of the country. Apparently, I had a benefactor who wanted to pay for my education and my mom thought it was best I take advantage of it.

  “I don’t want you doing manual labor all your life like me,” she’d said, and I’d been a good boy and gone along with the plan to make her happy.

  At first I was homesick, but it didn’t take long for me to make myself at home at St. Christopher’s. The Head of School was an Episcopalian priest, and when my mom got sick and passed away from breast cancer when I was a freshman in high school, he and his wife basically took me into their care as if I were their own son.