"What does Bardo do?"
"Sucks off whatever woman he's hooked up with."
"Sounds like a bum. You're better off without him."
"Yes, true. But you get stuck in something, don't really see the flaws."
"Not until it's crashed and burned right in front of you. I mean, she knew I was a priest before we started dating!" Seeing her surprised expression, he snapped his lips shut. "Bit of a sore spot."
"I can see that. Bardo didn't like my convictions."
"Specifically what?" He pulled into the parking lot of the Thai restaurant, stopping in a carryout spot.
"No sex until we're married."
"Yeah, that wouldn't make many men happy."
"You aren't like that, are you? I mean, you're a priest!"
"Unlike Catholic priests, Episcopalians are allowed to marry."
"But premarital sex? Doesn't the Church frown on that?"
"I've had my bad boy moments." He hopped out of the SUV, walking around to open hers.
"I'm sorry, I've offended you. I don't always shut up when I should."
"I'm afraid you laid my soul rather bare, with that question." He he opened the door to the restaurant and headed to the carryout order area a few feet to their left.
"Were you and your girlfriend—" she made vague gestures with her hands, all of which were mildly obscene.
Obi pushed her hands down, before she did something really crude. "Not really your business, is it?"
"It's just—you're very handsome—for a priest."
"Oh, so not handsome for some guy on the street?" he couldn't keep the irritation from his voice He hadn't meant to snap, but he was tired of apologizing.
"That isn't what I meant, and you know it," she barked.
Glaring at each other, they paused. He wasn't angry with her, nor she with him. They just happened to be thrown together on one of the worst days possible.
"You make me nervous," she said, after a lengthy interval.
"How?" he wasn't quite ready to lose his irritation. He was doing her a favor, and she seemed determined to annoy him. No, that wasn't it. He was in a terrible emotional state.
"You're a priest! And you're—hot."
He chuckled. "You must watch Fleabag."
"Never heard of it. What is it?"
They took a step closer to the window, as a person ahead of them headed for the door.
"It's this weird show on Amazon. There's a character on there that's referred to as the Hot Priest."
"Is he hot?" She smirked at him.
"No idea. He's not deformed, or anything. I'd be far more interested a hot priestess."
"Gotcha. I didn't mean it that way," she said, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "You're very handsome, and that's what makes me nervous."
"Whatever for?"
He glanced at his reflection in the front window of the restaurant. What he saw made him hesitate. His dark brown hair was messy, standing up in weird spikes as if he'd forgotten to brush it. Perhaps he had. He couldn't remember. His blue eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, showed his emotional pain. He hadn't shaved that morning. Considering that he'd been drinking heavily the night before, he looked rather like an unmade bed. Combing his hair with his fingers, he tried to tame it, but only succeeded in messing it up more.
"Can I take your order?" the girl at the register asked.
"Yes, sure. What would your mother like?"
Grabbing the list again, Wynter read off her mother's choices.
"Did you get something for yourself?" he asked.
"Yes. Mama won't eat all that, so I'll have what she doesn't eat."
"Add a Number 7, extra hot," he said, reaching for his wallet.
Wynter was ahead of him. Her wallet out, she insisted on paying. "It's the least I can do for my own personal Sir Galahad." Grinning, she stuffed some bills into the tip box on the counter.
"It will be about fifteen minutes," the woman at the register said. "You should call in, you pick right up."
"Sorry, didn't think about it," Obi said, forcing a smile.
There were benches nearby, with red vinyl cushions. He invited Wynter to sit. He sat a few feet away. She scooted closer, rubbing her bare arms.
"Wow, is it always this cold here?"
He leaned closer, a little chilly himself. "Yes. I think they do it so folks won't linger. We beat lunch rush. Usually, it's packed, but has a fast turnover. It's geared more to carryout."
"Is the food good?"
"Yes, if you like Thai."
"Do you?"
"Jury's still out." His turn to smirk. "What do you do, when not filling in as church secretary?"
"I'm a dancer."
"No kidding! Where?"
"I was with a professional company in New York. But since my ex-man child was the choreographer, I lost my job when we broke up."
"Yikes! Pardon my saying, he sounds like a real jerk."
"He is."
"What prompted the breakup?"
"You caught the man child reference?"
"Oh, yeah," he sincerely hoped that his ex didn't refer to him that same way. Since she'd called him far worse to his face, he was pretty sure she didn't.
©Dellani Oakes 2023
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