First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice by Krista D Ball Page B
Authors: Krista D Ball
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“Yes, this is quite an older building. I don’t envy your maintenance, that’s for sure!”
And on it went.
On and on and on.
Finally, Lizzy interjected, “Pastor Liam—”
“Please, Liam, when we’re not officially working.”
“Liam, are you comfortable working with LGBT youth?”
“Of course.” The surprise was evident in his voice. “God made us all in his image. I would never dream of not being comfortable around any of his creatures.”
Melissa added, “I’m happy to hear that, because we’re in need of someone who can work with our youth. We have three teen male prostitutes, two cross-dressers, and two girls we think are trans, or at least have some gender challenges.”
Liam nodded gravely. “Runaways?”
Lizzy made a so-so gesture. “About half.”
“I have a lot of experience working with LGBT youth, being out myself. Sometimes they’ll talk to me as opposed to someone straight or still in the closet.” Liam gave Luke a strange look. “It would be difficult for someone still closeted to give meaningful help to a kid who is out and got punished for it by their family.’
Lizzy glanced at Melissa before saying, “Um, Liam? I should mention that some of our donors are very…um…”
“Conservative,” Luke supplied.
“Yes, very conservative.” Lizzy laughed. “Just be careful about how, erm, out you are around them. They might cause some trouble.”
“I understand,” Liam said. “Though, if anyone were to give me trouble, I would remind them that we have all been made in the Lord’s image and that Jesus commanded…” And on he went.
Lizzy couldn’t deny that a small part of her hoped someone did snark at him at some point, because he’d outtalk and out-religion them all and she’d love to see that.
****
Lizzy extracted herself from Pastor Liam long enough to use the toilet and stuff a stale doughnut in her mouth before George Wickham arrived. The doorbell rang and she brushed the icing sugar off her hands onto her jeans. White powder streaks ran down her legs and she laughed, thinking she looked like an oxy user, rubbing off the pill coating on her clothes. She made several inappropriate but accurate comparisons between herself and some of the oxy users at The Faith, laughing at the gallows humour of it all, before she arrived at the door and her smile froze.
Outside stood a man of average height, with lean muscle, ginger locks, ginger eyebrows, and cheekbones chiseled enough to slice bread. He was in jeans, sneakers, a snug tee, and a snugger leather jacket. One side of his mouth quirked up when he eyed Lizzy and he said, “Hi there. I’m there to see Elizabeth Bennet. She’s expecting me.”
“Yes, um, that’s me. Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Oh, come in, please.” Lizzy let George in. She rolled her eyes at herself for being dazzled by good bone structure, as she closed the door behind him.
“Thanks for letting me do my hours here,” George said. “It’s tough to find anywhere that will do them and Denny told me you don’t normally have the time to take people on. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
Lizzy gave him a smile by way of reply. If every criminal who came here was as good-looking as him, she’d turn this place into a community hours harem. “Let’s head down to my office and I’ll go over my rules.”
Once settled in her office downstairs, George took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner. His sculpted arms threatened the seams of his shirt.
Oh, this was going to be a wonderful couple of weeks.
Lizzy got down to business, explaining to George how she worked community hours. No amount of good looks and charm — things he had plenty of — would get her to lie; he had to do twenty hours of community service. She’d expect him to work twenty hours.
“That means, you don’t show up for a shift, work for thirty minutes, then disappear for a two-hour lunch. I will report that you worked thirty minutes and not
And on it went.
On and on and on.
Finally, Lizzy interjected, “Pastor Liam—”
“Please, Liam, when we’re not officially working.”
“Liam, are you comfortable working with LGBT youth?”
“Of course.” The surprise was evident in his voice. “God made us all in his image. I would never dream of not being comfortable around any of his creatures.”
Melissa added, “I’m happy to hear that, because we’re in need of someone who can work with our youth. We have three teen male prostitutes, two cross-dressers, and two girls we think are trans, or at least have some gender challenges.”
Liam nodded gravely. “Runaways?”
Lizzy made a so-so gesture. “About half.”
“I have a lot of experience working with LGBT youth, being out myself. Sometimes they’ll talk to me as opposed to someone straight or still in the closet.” Liam gave Luke a strange look. “It would be difficult for someone still closeted to give meaningful help to a kid who is out and got punished for it by their family.’
Lizzy glanced at Melissa before saying, “Um, Liam? I should mention that some of our donors are very…um…”
“Conservative,” Luke supplied.
“Yes, very conservative.” Lizzy laughed. “Just be careful about how, erm, out you are around them. They might cause some trouble.”
“I understand,” Liam said. “Though, if anyone were to give me trouble, I would remind them that we have all been made in the Lord’s image and that Jesus commanded…” And on he went.
Lizzy couldn’t deny that a small part of her hoped someone did snark at him at some point, because he’d outtalk and out-religion them all and she’d love to see that.
****
Lizzy extracted herself from Pastor Liam long enough to use the toilet and stuff a stale doughnut in her mouth before George Wickham arrived. The doorbell rang and she brushed the icing sugar off her hands onto her jeans. White powder streaks ran down her legs and she laughed, thinking she looked like an oxy user, rubbing off the pill coating on her clothes. She made several inappropriate but accurate comparisons between herself and some of the oxy users at The Faith, laughing at the gallows humour of it all, before she arrived at the door and her smile froze.
Outside stood a man of average height, with lean muscle, ginger locks, ginger eyebrows, and cheekbones chiseled enough to slice bread. He was in jeans, sneakers, a snug tee, and a snugger leather jacket. One side of his mouth quirked up when he eyed Lizzy and he said, “Hi there. I’m there to see Elizabeth Bennet. She’s expecting me.”
“Yes, um, that’s me. Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Oh, come in, please.” Lizzy let George in. She rolled her eyes at herself for being dazzled by good bone structure, as she closed the door behind him.
“Thanks for letting me do my hours here,” George said. “It’s tough to find anywhere that will do them and Denny told me you don’t normally have the time to take people on. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”
Lizzy gave him a smile by way of reply. If every criminal who came here was as good-looking as him, she’d turn this place into a community hours harem. “Let’s head down to my office and I’ll go over my rules.”
Once settled in her office downstairs, George took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner. His sculpted arms threatened the seams of his shirt.
Oh, this was going to be a wonderful couple of weeks.
Lizzy got down to business, explaining to George how she worked community hours. No amount of good looks and charm — things he had plenty of — would get her to lie; he had to do twenty hours of community service. She’d expect him to work twenty hours.
“That means, you don’t show up for a shift, work for thirty minutes, then disappear for a two-hour lunch. I will report that you worked thirty minutes and not
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