Tempting Daddy by Ava Sinclair
Chapter Seventeen
Father
“Hello, Father.” Claudia Hudson’s ruby-red lips widen in a big smile as I open the door. “I knew you were around because your car was in the lot. What are you doing hiding in the rectory in the middle of the…?”
The smile fades then. She looks past me and I know she’s caught sight of Carmen. Before I can form a response, she slips around me, entering the rectory uninvited. She’s carrying a canvas bag in the crook of her arm.
“I was baking yesterday and I remember Father Morris saying how you enjoyed a good strudel, so I made one.” She pulls it out of the bag. “It’s fresh. Hot.” She pauses, turning to look at Carmen. “I didn’t know you had a guest.”
I clear my throat. “Carmen isn’t my guest, Mrs. Hudson. She’s the church secretary.”
“Ah, the church secretary.” She steps over and puts the wrapped strudel on the coffee table, then walks over to where Carmen is standing. I feel uneasy. The room still smells of sex. Carmen’s hair is tousled, her skirt wrinkled. Claudia Hudson is not a stupid woman. “A little bird told me you were leaving the church office, Carmen.” She glances back at me. “I came by hoping to apply. As you recall, Father, I was among the first to offer to fill that position.”
The sarcastic way she says ‘father’ doesn’t go unnoticed.
Carmen catches my eye. She looks nervous.
“I’d better get back to the office,” she says quietly. “It was nice seeing you, Miss Hudson.”
“Likewise.”
Carmen walks out, leaving me alone with the older woman.
Claudia Hudson looks towards the door. “You could get in trouble for this, you know. You could lose your position here.”
I could tell her that her implications are wrong. I could paint her as what she is, a vile, jealous woman who wants to manipulate me into an affair. I could deny everything, but I can’t bring myself to deny Carmen. I love her, and I am not ashamed.
“Who told you Carmen was leaving?” I ask, ignoring her comment.
“I went by Angelo’s furniture store this morning to order a new dining room table. I saw Carmen’s father. The topic of the church came up. He doesn’t like you, you know. He doesn’t like his daughter working for you and says he’s getting her to quit.” She smirks. “I defended you, Father. Even after you spurned me, I defended you as a godly man, but even as I did, something told me I should just stop by. I’m glad I followed my hunch. You owe me now, and you’ll be a lot nicer to me if you don’t want me to let Mr. Angelo know I found his daughter half-dressed with you in the middle of the day.” She sighs. “It all makes sense now. You knew I wanted that job, but instead you chose some innocent little nitwit.”
“Father Morris asked me to hire Carmen as a favor to her father, if you must know,” I say. “And she’s not a nitwit.”
“Awfully defensive,” she says, then her expression turns mean. “I could make trouble for you, Father. And for that girl. Everyone knows there’s no love lost between Stephen Angelo and his daughter. He’s a deacon. If word gets out that you were entertaining Carmen here in the middle of the day when you were both supposed to be working… Oh, he’d be very angry, indeed.”
It’s all I can do to keep my anger in check, but somehow, I manage it.
“Thank you for the strudel, Mrs. Hudson,” I say, putting the same emphasis on ‘Mrs.’ that she did on ‘Father.’ “I have your resume in the office. Should the time come that I need to review it, I’ll give it the same consideration as those of others who applied.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Well. I’m sure you’ll do what’s in your best interest. And Carmen’s.” She sighs. “People can be so judgmental these days.”
Mrs. Hudson. Carmen’s father. The parish is full of good people, but there are also those who see religion as a game or a cover for their true behavior. I could be angry, but instead I see this woman’s visit as divine providence pushing me towards what must be done.
I have a cigarette on my way to the office. Carmen is behind her desk, her eyes red-rimmed. She’s been crying. I walk over to where she’s sitting.
“Don’t worry, little one.”
“How can you say that?” Carmen wipes away a tear. “She knows. I could see it in her eyes. What if she tells?”
“She won’t,” I say. “Mrs. Hudson has a different agenda.” I tell her, without going into too much detail, about the older woman’s flirtations. “She’s jealous, Carmen. She won’t say anything. She thinks she has leverage to end up with your job, to end up with me.”
Carmen stares up at me. “But she sings in the choir!”
I smile. “And your father is a deacon. I think we can dispel with the notion that everyone who walks into church is a saint.” I take hold of her chin and tip her face up. “Not even the priest.”
“You’re a saint to me,” she says.
I lean down and kiss her on the lips and, at that moment, I don’t care who walks through the door.
