Ruby in the Bright Red Dress

Old Jack was waiting at the door as the pastor arrived for an evening meeting.  There was no "Good evening, Pastor."  No "Good to see you, Pastor."  Not even a simple, "The girls' toilet is clogged again, Pastor."  It was right into a nuclear meltdown.

"Pastor, it's one thing to deal with smoke alarms and burnt sausages.  It's something else altogether to deal with a woman in a slinky dress and a bottle of wine in the boiler room."  He stopped, expecting an answer and immediate action.

The pastor's stomach began to ache.  "Jack, what are you talking about now?"

"If you were around here a little more instead of gallivanting around to every meeting and coffee shop in town you might have a little better idea of what's happening here, you know!"  Old Jack's cheeks were almost purple and two veins in his forehead were doing the rumba.

The pastor took a breath, counted to five, and spoke slowly.  "All right, Jack.  How about if you pretend that it's your job to keep me up to speed on things here when I'm gone.  What's happening?"

"That good-for-nothing fool in the basement brought a woman here on a...a...a date!  She's in a dress that would have sent my wife into a tizzy.  There's candles on the tool counter and an open bottle of wine in the mop bucket surrounded by ice.  Is that enough information for you?"

"Yes, Jack.  Thank you.  I'll check into it."  The pastor stopped in to make sure that the meeting could proceed without him.  Of course, no one else had made an appearance, so the meeting was under control for now.

He headed downstairs.  The pastor got as far as the women's restroom and met the evening's guest as she was coming out.  Her dress was cherry red, off one shoulder, and slit up the opposite thigh to...well, to an indiscrete height.

"Hello," she said without commitment.

"Good evening," the pastor said, "may I help you find something?"

"Oh, no thank you, I'm fine.  Philly said this was the nicest ladies' room in the place, and was he ever right!  Marble counter tops and flowers by the sinks and paintings on the walls and those little wipes next to the stools.  What a lovely toilet!"

"I'm glad you liked it," the pastor hissed through clenched jaws.  "By the way, where is...Philly?"

"He's downstairs getting dinner ready.  He's a wonder, living in that old dungeon and cooking on a hot plate.  But we're having lobster and potatoes and a nice salad.  What a man!"

"Yes, he's a wonder, that's for sure.  Would you please wait here?  I'm kind of in charge here and I need to visit with Philly for a few minutes.  Maybe you can wait in the lounge over there."  She glanced at the chairs and shrugged.

"Sure, buddy, whatever floats your boat."

The pastor walked carefully down the stairs.  Before he got to the bottom, Phil was calling to him.

"Hello, Pastor!  Did you meet Ruby?  What a woman!  We're having the best time!  It took a little work but I made the place presentable.  Can you believe it?  I met her on that website--Christian Shingle.  What a treasure!"

"Phil, I need to get something clear with you.  This is not your home.  You cannot have a woman in here.  You cannot have a bottle of wine in here.  You cannot entertain guests.  You cannot use our wireless network to arrange for dates.  And most of all...YOU CANNOT LIVE HERE!"

He stopped and waited.  Phil stirred the lobster and tossed the salad.  "Pastor, you seem a bit upset.  Is there anything I can do to make you feel a little less distressed?"

What is the next move for the pastor?  What would you advise?  How do you like your lobster?