Blind Date with a Billionaire Professor (Blind Date Disasters)

by Evangeline Kelly

  “Because I think you’re the right woman.”

  We both smiled at the same time, and I put my arm around her waist. “It felt…wrong to keep it from you.”

  “Since you value your privacy on the matter, I won’t tell anyone.” She placed her hand on my back. “How did your father make his money?”

  “When I was younger—probably about four—he took me on a hike. I was all excited because it was rare that we ever spent time together. My father was a scientist as well—don’t know if I mentioned that before.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, well, he owned his own pharmaceutical company, and he was already wealthy to begin with. We were deep in the woods the day we went on the hike, and I found this colorful mushroom and showed it to him. He took pictures and samples, and when we got back, he did research for months and months. Turned out, he had a hard time identifying the mushroom. No one had ever seen anything like it. That part I didn’t know until I was much older, but he told me about it later. The mushroom had three different applications. The chemicals produced were used in a leading diabetes drug, another for prostate cancer, and an antibiotic.”

  “That’s…amazing.”

  “Mushrooms have fascinated me ever since.”

  “I can see why.”

  We’d reached the house, and I opened the back door to let her in. “That’s my story in a nutshell.”

  She walked in and laughed. “So, now I get to add ‘humble’ to the list of qualities I like about you. I can’t believe you never tried to use your money to your advantage.”

  I shrugged. “Money is just money. I try not to let it consume my life. I used to worry that someone will want to be with me because of it, but I trust you, Abby. You’re different.”

  Chapter 17

  Abby

  “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” I repeated Psalm sixty-three, verse one, out loud, my prayer to the Lord this morning.

  I’d been making an effort to spend daily time in the Bible, and to pour out my heart to the Lord like I used to do. Father, please help me to put You first in my life, to love You with all that I am. Amen.

  Many things were changing—had changed in the last few weeks. Colin and I were now an item. Nick had a girlfriend named Zoe—someone he’d dated more than three times—and I was really happy for him. Truly happy. I didn’t feel any jealousy like I had in the past, and I hoped he and Zoe worked out. Also, the Lord was showing me how to depend on Him more, and that was probably the most important change in my life.

  Everything was falling into place the way it needed to, and I couldn’t have been happier. In fact, sometimes I held my breath and prayed that God wouldn’t take this relationship with Colin away from me. I knew the Lord wasn’t a kill-joy, but I also understood that He had a plan far bigger than I could ever grasp. I just didn’t want to lose what had become so precious to me.

  I walked out of the door with samples of my best paintings, and headed to the Greg Gordan gallery about an hour away. I’d done my research a long time ago and found that the owner had a huge success rate in sales, and he’d even sold a few paintings to celebrities and high-profile names. I really wanted to see one of my pieces on that wall. If I could just get that chance, it might lead to so much more. Colin had offered to buy me my own gallery, but I’d said no. Maybe I would accept if we got married at some point in the future, but for now, I wanted to make it on my own.

  On the drive over, I thought about how Colin and I had grown closer in the last few weeks. He’d flown me to Chicago, New York City, and Boston. Each excursion had been short—just enough time to have a meal and sample the feel of the city for a couple of hours. I think he wanted to wow me a little, and he did. But honestly, my favorite moments were when we hung out at his house on top of the mountain, walking on the path that led to that amazing view. We’d even visited each other’s churches and were trying to decide how to handle that. We both loved our own churches, so for now, we decided to each stay put. That would work itself out, eventually.

  When I arrived at the gallery, I parked and strode inside, shoulders back, head held high, doing my best to appear confident. I’d scheduled an appointment with Mr. Gordan, so there was no reason to feel out of place when I walked in, but the second I stepped foot in the lobby, I instantly had a bad feeling.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Summerhill. It’s nice to meet you.” Greg extended his hand in a professional, yet easy manner. He had a broad smile and a personable way about him.

  “Thank you for seeing me. I’m so excited to show you my work.” I stuffed that bad feeling down and refused to give it any thought.

  “Why don’t you come to my office where we can speak in private.”

  I followed him down a hallway to a room at the end. It was spacious and large and the floor-to-ceiling windows had awesome views of a garden in the back.

  “Can I offer you something to drink?” he asked.

  “No thank you. I want to dive right in if you don’t mind.”

  He nodded. “Sure, let’s see what you have.”

  I had a few samples with me, so I showed him the picture of my house first. He studied it intently, taking in the details. He put a hand on his chin and smiled. “Very nice. I like your choice of color and the way you used light.” He seemed impressed, and that lifted my spirits some.

  “This is actually my own home,” I said.

  “I’m not surprised. There’s a certain familiarity. Maybe that’s not the correct word.” He paused. “There’s a lot of love and affection here. I can feel it emerging from this painting.”

  “Thank you.” I beamed.

  “What else do you have?”

  I showed him my other paintings, and he seemed pleased with each one. He was always positive, and he praised every piece as if it were truly special. After he’d looked at everything, he appeared to consider.

  “These are very nice, Ms. Summerhill, you certainly are talented, but I’m afraid they aren’t a good match for this particular gallery.”

  His statement didn’t surprise me because I’d had that gut feeling when I walked through the door. “Thank you for your time.” When I started to leave, he placed a hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “Your style isn’t the issue, I want you to know that.” He hesitated. “Everything I showcase is unique in its own right. Your work is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, and I have no doubt you’ll find buyers for these, but they’re generic.”

  It was like he’d dropped a bomb on my head and all the positivity of the last few minutes had gone out the door. “Generic?”

  “Yes. You have a house, a view of the beach, a sunset in the sky. Those are all things I’ve seen before. I’m looking for something different…a new perspective.”

  “Okay, I can try to do that.”

  “The world is full of details. Find one that stands out to you.”

  He was speaking in code, and I had no idea what he wanted exactly, but I just nodded my head because I wanted to get out of there before I showed too much emotion.

  “Come back when what you have is rare and exclusive,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”

  ***

  “And then he told me my work was generic.” I glanced at Wilhelmina and Colin, my face going hot. I’d stopped by to see them in the lab at UC Redwoods on my way back from Mr. Gordan’s gallery. “I guess I’ll just have to settle for a different gallery.”

  “But it’s your dream to have your paintings displayed there,” Colin said. “Why are you giving up? He said to come back.”

  “I’m not giving up exactly, but I have to be realistic. There are a lot of talented people out there who have more training than I do. I’m not sure if I have what it takes—”

  “You do,” Colin said adamantly. “I know you do.”

  “You’re too biased to give me an accurate assessment.”

  Wil
helmina put her arm around my shoulders. “It’s one little challenge. You’ve got this.”

  “I won’t stop painting, but I wish I had a better idea of what he’s looking for.”

  “Tell you what,” Colin said. “Come back with me to my office. I have a few things to finish up and then I’ll take you to dinner. We’ll bounce some ideas off each other.”

  “Thank you for being so supportive,” I said, moving to his side to give him a hug. I turned to glance at Wilhelmina. “You too. You both have been great.”

  Colin leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips and then held me close.

  Wilhelmina snickered. “Look at you two. You are so cute together, and he is definitely not letting you get away.” She made a show of putting a hand on her chin, inspecting us from head to toe. “And you’re both attractive. You’ll have beautiful babies.”

  “Wilhelmina,” I said under my breath, glancing at her over my shoulder. “We haven’t even talked about marriage.” I said the last part in a whisper, mostly mouthing the words so Colin wouldn’t hear. I didn’t want him to think I was pushing him into anything. The thought of marriage had entered my mind a few times—or more—definitely more, but that didn’t mean he needed to know I’d been thinking about it.

  “I know what I’m doing,” she said, not even bothering to whisper. She pointed at Colin. “This one needs time to get used to an idea before he moves forward. Trust me. I’m helping you out.”

  “We’ll move at our own pace,” I said, taking Colin’s hand and moving towards the door before she asked about potential wedding dates.

  “Of course you will.” Wilhelmina winked and then turned on the radio. She swayed to the music and went back to work.

  Once we were outside, I glanced at Colin. “Were you put off by the talk about babies?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “Not at all.” He kissed me on the forehead and didn’t say anything else.

  “Okay, man of few words. I’ll just have to take that answer for now.”

  He led me to his office, and I sat in a chair near his desk while he flipped through a Google slide presentation he planned on sharing with a class the following day. I watched as colorful images of pink and purple and green splashed across his computer screen.

  “What sort of presentation is this? The images look like cells of some kind.”

  “I’m giving a lecture on microscopic fungi. The students will see some of these examples under a microscope in lab next week.”

  As he continued to flip through the slides, my eyes were glued to his screen. There were so many shapes and sizes and colors. “Who would have thought that fungi were as beautiful as this? I love all the colors.”

  “Actually, fungi tend to be nearly colorless. What you see is a tint from a dye. We often refer to it as a stain.”

  “I see. They’re still pretty.”

  He nodded and continued to click through the presentation.

  “Stop right there,” I said. “What’s the name of that one?” It was a ball with spikes all over it, and it reminded me of a pin cushion or a medieval weapon of some sort.

  “Hesseltinella vesiculosa. It’s a Mucoromycota fungus.”

  “It’s fascinating to see something so small, something you can’t see unless it’s under a microscope or blown up in a picture.”

  “Yes, I agree.” He continued to flip and then stopped. “See the long strings? Those are mycelium. They’re like threads or branches of the fungus that is growing.” He clicked to the next one. “Do you see the flower-like structures?”

  “Yeah, they look like wildflowers.”

  “We call those fruiting bodies, and they contain spores to grow more fungi. Spores are similar to seeds.”

  “Interesting.”

  He flipped to the following slide, and I asked him to stop again. “What’s the name of this one?” I asked.

  “Aspergillus flavus. It’s a pathogenic germ causing a disease called Aspergillosis. It can develop in the lungs or other bodily organs.”

  “I love its blue stain, and the shape reminds me of a torch of some kind. It’s weird that a germ can be so beautiful.”

  He chuckled. “I see the science and you see the art. It’s a wonder—”

  “Hold on. Say that again.”

  He pulled back his shoulders and cocked his head to the side. “I see the science and you see the art.”

  “That’s it!” I rose from my seat and gave him a hug. “Greg Gordan wants something unique. I think I just found it.”

  “Explain further. I’m not following.”

  “I’m going to take one of these microscopic images and turn it into a painting.”

  “Hmmm. That’s an interesting concept.”

  “Yes, it is, and I can’t wait to try it.”

  “I’m sure anything you paint will look beautiful. Let me know if you need my help.” He considered. “Hey, would you like to go on a mushroom foray with me tomorrow? You can observe mushrooms in the wild that way.”

  “What’s a mushroom foray? I think I remember you mentioning it one time but you never said what it was.”

  “It just means getting a group together to go into the forest to look for fungi. A lot of times we’re looking for edibles that we can eat. Tomorrow, I’m taking a group of grad students from the science department as well as some lab techs. Wilhelmina will be there.”

  “That sounds fun. I could take some pictures.”

  He pulled me into his arms and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Then come. I want you there with me.” He looked at me as if I were precious to him, and he didn’t ever want to be apart.

  “Oh, I’m definitely coming to this mushroom foray thing now, especially because I get to hold the hand of Professor Fitzgerald. I’m going to make every woman there jealous.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. I stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. When he wiped a tear from one eye because he was laughing so hard, I pushed playfully against his shoulder and leaned back. “Why are you laughing?”

  He wiped his eyes again and grinned from ear-to-ear. “I don’t know why I’m laughing. Sometimes you tickle me with the things you say. I guess I’m just really happy, and I haven’t felt that way for a very long time…maybe never.”

  Chapter 18

  Colin

  My TA, Brian Cox was getting on my nerves. If he made one more joke to try to make Abby laugh, I was going to… I didn’t know what I was going to do, but he wouldn’t like it. He never hung around me during these things, but now that Abby was here, I couldn’t get rid of him. Taking a breath, I steadied myself. I wasn’t exactly jealous, but it bothered me that he was trying to gain her attention. Still, that was no excuse for me to have such a bad attitude. I shot up a prayer, asking God to help me to be patient.

  A group of us were hiking through a trail in an area of dense vegetation and trees, and many of the students had spread out, looking for signs of mushrooms. Others didn’t bother because they were just there for the social aspect of the event.

  “Why did the mushroom get invited to all the parties?” Brian asked.

  “No idea,” Abby said with laughter in her voice. “Go ahead and tell me.”

  “Because he’s a fun guy.”

  I rolled my eyes. Everyone knew that one.

  “I don’t understand,” Abby said. And then it sunk in. “Ohhh…fun guy as in fungi.” Her face lit up. “Good one.”

  “All right, Brian. Enough with the jokes.” Abby and I had been holding hands, but I let go so I could wrap my arm around her waist protectively. Brian was way too much of a flirt, and he needed to get the hint that I wasn’t finding his humor amusing.

  Wilhelmina trotted over. “Do I hear mushroom jokes?” She waved a hand in the air. “I’ve got one. I’ve got one. You all need to hear this.”

  “Please share,” Abby said, smiling. “I think I’ve heard more mushroom jokes today than I have my entir
e life.”

  “So, a mushroom walks into a party,” Wilhelmina said, bouncing with each step she took. How the woman managed to stay so youthful—I had no idea. She had more energy than I did. “Listen to this Colin. I see you drifting away.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  “Anyway, a mushroom walks into a party—”

  “You just said that,” Brian interjected. His brown mop of hair increased its volume as the wind picked up.

  “And I’m about to say it again,” she said grinning, “so don’t interrupt this time.”

  He laughed but nodded and obeyed. Wilhelmina was not one to mess with.

  “So, a mushroom walks into a party, and the bouncer tells him there isn’t enough room. Then the mushroom replies, ‘Oh, okay, but I don't take up much room.’” She looked at Abby for her reaction. “Get it? Much room…mushroom.”

  Abby threw her head back and laughed. “I like that one. They keep getting better and better.” She glanced at me. “Now it’s your turn. I want to hear a joke from you, Professor.”

  Wilhelmina smirked. “Yeah, Professor, tell us something funny.”

  I rolled my eyes again. “You all seem to have the mushroom jokes under control. You don’t need my ten cents.”

  “I don’t think he knows how to be funny,” Brian said under his breath.

  Fine, if he was going to put it out there like that, I would have to prove him wrong. I kept my face good and blank as I looked at Abby. “Here’s one.”

  “Oh, good.” She rubbed her hands together, delighted I was joining in on the fun.

  “Why did the algae and fungus get married?” I just looked at her—no one else.

  “Why?” Her tone was lighter, softer this time. Her eyebrows flew up as she waited for my reply.

  “Because they took a likin’ to each other.”

  Brian and Wilhelmina both snickered, but I didn’t look at them and neither did Abby. Our gazes locked and the world around us faded away.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, and I wasn’t entirely sure she was talking about mushrooms.