“Thank you for volunteering,” he said, his smile digging small dimples into his clean-shaven cheeks.
Too bad he’s off the market, Jessica Stephenson thought, appreciating his good looks. He stood out among the group of well-dressed parishioners chatting on the front steps of the cathedral.
“Where should we talk about what you’ll need me to do?” she asked.
He frowned for a second. “I’m afraid the office is busy at the moment. We can’t really discuss anything inside. There are always parishioners coming in to pray in silence. I wouldn’t dare invite you to my apartment. Some people could see it as inappropriate. What about your home?” he asked.
“Well…” Jessica thought about it for a second. She trusted the man. It wasn’t as though she was inviting a stranger into her home. He was a man of God, after all. “Yeah, let’s do that. Plus, I could show you some of the photos for the event I was telling you about. We’d do it differently, of course, but it would give you an idea of what I’m thinking.”
He smiled and nodded. “That’s a great idea! But then again, I wouldn’t want to disturb the rest of your family as we chit-chat and plan the event. You live with your father, right?”
“You have a great memory!” She stretched out her hand and patted him on the arm. “Do you know this much about every parishioner?”
“Not everyone, but I do my best to learn a little bit about those I meet. I think caring and getting to know people is the best way to be involved with the community. Don’t you agree?”
“Absolutely. My dad’s working for another”—she lifted her phone up to check the time—“five hours or so.”
“Okay. We shouldn’t need more than an hour or two max.”
“Do you want to start now?”
He bit his lips. “I do have to take care of something first, then I could meet you there in about an hour?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your address?”