The next morning I was in a terrible mood when I stormed into the office. Kay wasn’t there, and I was ready to throw something at somebody. During the short period of time I’d been married, I’d grown accustomed to having my wife’s warm body and attention every night, and I was beyond irritated that my new evil stepmother had somehow weaseled her way between me and Chloe.

Somehow I was going to have to get that woman out of my life.

I understood more every day what Nick meant when he complained about his mother. The woman was a menace. She would stop at nothing to interfere with not only her own children’s lives, but also her dead husband’s children’s lives. And I was going to be the one looking like a selfish jackass if I didn’t support Chloe with this ridiculous TV show.

But how could I possibly be thrilled for my wife to leave her new project, the one I’m funding, to fly off to Los Angeles to chase some pipedream Lucinda dangled in front of her. The only reason that woman offered a show to Chloe was to get to me. What she really wanted was for me to say yes to the church show she pitched me.

Lucinda could do whatever she wanted, but that was not about to happen.

I slammed the door to my office behind me. The loud noise got my attention, and I realized my behavior was not that befitting a bishop in the Episcopal Church.

Taking a deep breath, I left my office and went into the chapel and prayed. I asked the Lord for guidance and to grant me the wisdom and the patience to make good decisions.

Prayer usually helped center me, but today I couldn’t seem to shake the foul mood I was in.

I picked up my phone and called Kay. She didn’t answer, so I left a message. “Where are you? You can’t just not show up. If you’re not going to be here you need to send me a message. Thanks.”

I was going through an expense report when Crawford Banks walked through my door without so much as knocking.

Hello, Crawford,” I said, wishing again for the four hundredth time today that Kay was at her desk. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s what I can do for you,” Crawford said smugly as he helped himself to a seat across for me.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Then let me make it a little more clear to you. We can either go the formal route where the vestry and I file a formal complaint against you with the diocese or you can take a tidy settlement offer and resign, saving everyone the embarrassment of a scandal in the church. I’m sure you don’t want us to get the kind of reputation our Catholic brothers have, do you?”

“Of course I don’t, but what is it that you think I’ve done that you need me to resign over?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

“According to our forensic accountants and investigators you have been using church funds for personal expenses.”

“Like what?”

“It seems as though you have charged several meals to the church fund as well as several magazine subscriptions. You must realize that you are paid and these are personal expenses not work related ones.”

“What magazine are you talking about? What meals?” I tried to run through the list of magazines I even subscribed to in my head. I had a Sports Illustrated subscription but I was almost positive I had that before I even came to the church and surely I didn’t use the church funds for that. There were a couple of tech magazines that I had used—Wired being one of them and Fast Company because I was interested in following along with the latest social media as we tried to update and keep the church up to speed with what was happening in the world. Those could be the ones he’s talking about, but they weren’t for my personal use. They were for church related business.

And meals? If I had ever used the wrong card to pay for a meal that was a possibility. I was human. I could make mistakes, but there were also times where I was probably justified in charging the church for my meals. Like when I was traveling and things like that.

“I’d like to see a list of the accusations you’re making because I feel like there’s probably a good explanation for everything you’re suggesting.”

Crawford leaned forward in his chair his hands on his knees. “Look, Soto, we don’t want you here anymore, and you can either leave under friendly terms or it can get ugly. It’s up to you.”

I threw my hands up. “Crawford, I have to disagree with you. You have no proof of wrongdoing on my part. I’m innocent, and have no intention of stepping down.”

“Really? Because I have the votes and no one is real happy to have their bishop cavorting with a stripper. That is just so bad I don’t even know where to begin. And now we’re hearing that you are related to that awful Barnes family? This parish doesn’t need any more scandal, thank you.”

His bringing Chloe into this brought my blood to a boil. It took all the self-control I could muster not to fly across the desk and throttle the man. “You leave my wife out of this. She is a former dancer and there is nothing wrong with that. Neither she nor I have done anything wrong. As for the Barneses, the only connection there is genetic. They are not close relatives and they have no bearing on my position in this church. Now I would like you to leave my office. And don’t come back until you have proof of some wrongdoing on my part,” I snarled.

“So, you want to play it that way, do you? Fine. You want to fight this one out we can. But I can promise you it’s not going to be you who comes out on top, buddy.” With that, Crawford huffed and puffed his way out the door.

As soon as it shut behind him, I was tempted to lock the damn thing and do some relaxation exercises.

Instead, I took a few deep breaths and picked up the phone to call my lawyer.