Chapter 9

Evangelina

I leave the club late, the music still pulsing in my veins, but I feel a bit better about everything. The city lights blur as I walk, a haze of neon and headlights. I'm not sure how Father Carmichael can help me with my current situation, but I could use the money more than anything. I need it. Desperately.

The thought of Nate slips into my mind, a shadow that lingers no matter how hard I try to push it away. I feel like I’m never going to get Nate back, and it’ll forever be this way. The weight of that realization settles heavily on my chest as I make my way to my tiny apartment.

Once inside, the familiar surroundings offer no comfort. Tears fall steadily down my face, and I can't stop the onslaught as I think about my pathetic life. The walls close in around me, and the loneliness is suffocating.

Adding to my confusion is the inexplicable attraction I feel toward Father Carmichael. The thought of being drawn to a priest makes me laugh through my tears, a bitter, broken sound. Now I’m sobbing and laughing uncontrollably, a mess of emotions that I can’t untangle.

What the heck is wrong with me? The question echoes in the silence of my apartment, unanswered and unanswerable.

The next morning, I make my way to the diner, bracing myself for another hectic shift. The early sun glistens off the dew on the grass, a deceptive calm before the storm of the breakfast rush. As soon as I step inside, the familiar clatter of dishes and the hum of conversations greet me. I tie my apron and dive into the overpacked morning crowd, taking orders, pouring coffee, and dodging the chaos.

Then, through the din of clinking cutlery and chattering customers, a lone figure steps through the front doors. It's him.

Father Carmichael, looking stunning as always, with the sunlight streaming through the windows catching in his light blue eyes, making them sparkle. How unfair is my life?

He walks with a quiet confidence and sits at the counter. Before Daisy can get to him with the coffee pot, I make a beeline for him, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Hi," I say, nearly out of breath from the rush and the unexpected sight of him.

He gazes up at me, and a smile splits his face, warm and genuine. He really is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. The sight of him takes my breath away. "Hey, Eva. I’ll take a coffee." He flips his coffee mug over, and I nod, trying to keep my composure.

"Sure thing, Father." I grab the coffee pot as Daisy gives me a knowing smile.

"Shame he’s a priest, huh?" she teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I force a nonchalant smile, pretending I’ve never had such a thought in my life. "I hadn’t noticed," I lie, hoping my face doesn't betray me.

Daisy rolls her eyes, clearly not buying it. "You’d have to be blind not to notice," she mutters, walking away.

I pour Father Carmichael some coffee, my hands steady even though there’s a flutter in my chest. "Are you here for breakfast?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

He shakes his head, his expression serious. "Actually, I came to talk to you."

Surprised, I set the coffee pot back on the warmer and give him my full attention. "Oh, okay. I get off in an hour, unless it’s something we can discuss here." I glance around the busy diner, wondering what he could possibly need to talk to me about that couldn’t wait.

His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the noise of the diner fades away. "It's important, and I don’t want anyone to overhear us," he says softly, his gaze steady and sincere.

I nod, feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation. "All right, Father. I'll be done soon. Maybe you want some pie while you wait?”

He smiles wide. “Well, I can’t turn down pie, now can I?”

I dish him out a slice of apple pie and set it in front of him. “I’ll be back soon.”

I continue my rounds, checking on tables, cashing customers out, and ringing up orders until it slows down enough for me to head home.

True to his word, Father Carmichael stayed put the entire time. Not quite an hour, but close to it. I untie my apron as I say my goodbyes to Daisy.

“Want to walk with me for a bit?” he asks me.

I nod. “Sure.” We fall in step with each other and I ask, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’ve spoken with Huxely, and he’s agreed to promote you to a Greedy Girl and let you work the Delgado meetings.”

I stall, snapping my eyes to his. “Wow, you must really have some pull at the club.”

The smile he gives me can only be described as panty-melting. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, this weekend I’m busy. When’s their next meeting?”

We continue our trek toward the church, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the path.

“Tuesday night. Will you be able to make it?”

I nod. “Sure thing.” I stop and turn to face him, the weight of the upcoming task heavy on my mind. “I’m really nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He places both hands on my shoulders, bending slightly to look into my eyes. “I’ll be watching from another room the whole time. All you need to do is give me a signal if you get uncomfortable and I will get you out of there.”

“A signal?”

“Maybe you could scratch your nose or tap your head,” he suggests with a small laugh.

I blink, trying to think of something clear and unmistakable. “Maybe something like this.” I tap the top of my head with two fingers, three times. “Like that.”

“If you do that, I will be in the room faster than you can say Club Greed.”

“Thank you.” I feel a wave of relief knowing Father Carmichael will be close by. “What should I do?” I ask, seeking more guidance.

“For now, don’t try to engage in deep conversation. Focus on gaining their trust. Be someone they wouldn’t mind opening up to.”

I nod again, feeling a bit more confident. “Okay. I guess I can do that. I’ve never danced for anyone before in my life.”

“I’ve arranged for you to be the only Greedy Girl working the meeting, so you might just be busy getting them drinks all night long. I wouldn’t worry about the dancing right away.”

We reach the church grounds, the small playground beside his house looking peaceful in the fading light. We walk through the fallen leaves, their crunching underfoot a soothing sound in the quiet afternoon.

“I can do this,” I tell him, determined to help Father Carmichael with his mission.

“I appreciate it, and if at any time you’re uncomfortable, you let me know and we can call it quits on the whole thing.”

“Okay.” I offer him a soft smile, feeling a mix of gratitude and resolve.

“Will you be at church on Sunday?”

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

He nods, his expression warm and reassuring. “Good. I’ll see you then.”

As we part ways, I glance back at the church, feeling a sense of purpose and a little less alone in this daunting endeavor. Is it crazy to be excited about seeing him on Sunday?

It is, right?