LEARNING CURVES

by Joanne Rock

  Her father patted her shoulder in an awkward display of affection, then pulled away again. Maddy appreciated the tiny offering, knowing it had always been difficult for her father to be demonstrative. And he only grumbled because he wanted to protect her.

  He lowered his voice. "It's just that I'm hearing wild reports about you, honey, and I'm worried it might be someone else's influence distracting you from your goals." He tugged at the collar of his button-down.

  No doubt the warm Kentucky afternoon was a far cry from upstate New York this time of year.

  She patted his shoulder, mirroring the small gesture he'd made. "No one is going to distract me, Dad." Not even a certain hunky business teacher, she promised herself.

  "Yet you compromised your standing in front of your university peers by allowing yourself to be carried around the parking lot last weekend like a sack of potatoes."

  "No one is going to think any less of me for something so innocent, Dad." She smiled, hoping to lighten the tension between them.

  He stared back at her, expressionless.

  "Unless you do, that is." She half feared his response. She'd been worried about living up to this man's expectations all her life, and no matter how much trouble he caused, she couldn't help but want to please him.

  "Of course not," he mumbled, looking distinctly uncomfortable at her direct approach. "I just don't know that an outsider like your mechanic would be able to appreciate the finer points of university politics. He might not have realized what he did was wrong." He flashed her a kind smile to make up for his elitist words.

  Okay, enough was enough. She loved her dad to no end and she owed him all the world, but he was pushing her every last button with this discussion. "Cal knows plenty about university politics, Dad, because he teaches here, too. And he only carried me to his car to prevent me from parading around campus in the most shocking red dress you've ever seen. He probably did you a favor with that move."

  Her father frowned, turning his lip outward like a petulant child. "Why didn't he mention being a professor?"

  She sighed. Much as she didn't want to have an unpleasant conversation with her dad, she didn't see a choice now. She should have stood up to him long ago.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked at him levelly. "Maybe Cal doesn't feel the need to validate himself by announcing his academic credentials every time he meets someone."

  She left it unsaid that her father demanded to be introduced as "doctor." She also left it unsaid that Cal's comfort in his own skin appealed to her more than any other part of his gorgeous self.

  Her father stroked his shaven jaw, mirroring the stance of The Thinker behind him. "Shouldn't he be proud of his accomplishments?"

  "I think he's just proud of his other accomplishments, too," Madeline replied, grasping for the first time how humble Cal had always been, despite his thriving business and the degree on his wall. "He's raising his sister in the aftermath of his father's death. He has started a chain of successful garages. He cares about his pass/fail average every semester…"

  Madeline slowed herself down, realizing she'd reeled off an awful lot of things to like about Cal. Still, she couldn't resist revealing one final bit of information to change her father's mind about Cal.

  "Best of all, Daddy, Cal is the rare kind of guy who can fully appreciate a 283-cubic-inch engine that produces 270 horses in a classic car. He can't be that bad, can he?"

  Birds chirped a cheerful response to her question, but the good doctor remained silent.

  Madeline had played her trump card with the horsepower remark. If that failed to impress her father, she couldn't imagine what would.

  "He teaches here?" he finally asked.

  She nodded, hopeful.

  Her father fanned himself with his hand, looking thoughtful. "And he shares our interest in classic automobiles?"

  A smile itched Madeline's lips. Her father might have been his usual ill-mannered self today, but he'd meant well. He'd only been looking out for her, after all. "He's got a fifty-seven Chevy that's pristine navy blue, and sweet enough to eat, Daddy. He probably would have shown it to you if you'd been nicer to him."

  Dr. Watson couldn't have looked more deflated than if he'd just lost his research grant. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

  She shrugged, then ventured a consoling arm across his tweed-covered shoulders. They might not see eye-to-eye on how to pursue an academic career, but Madeline and her father had always enjoyed the common ground of their love of old cars. Some of her most pleasant memories as a child had been the days she'd coerced her father into attending a car show. They would ride deep into the countryside to join the other car hounds, peering through windshields and under hoods.

  He brightened. "Maybe I ought to get to know this young man of yours a little better."

  Madeline could see the wheels turning in her father's brilliant mind. The last thing she needed was for him to seek out Cal. "He's awfully busy with his work," she assured him.

  "What man is too busy to talk about the woman in his life?" He straightened his jacket and retrieved his bag. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm sure I'll find time to have a man-to-man talk with him at some point this weekend."

  Great. Her fit of temper had backfired.

  Madeline could just see it. Her five-and-a-half-foot father telling six-foot Cal to behave himself in one breath, and in the next trying to wheedle a ride in the antique car.

  Her father would have Cal running in the opposite direction in no time.

  And as much as she might tell herself that she and Cal were better off apart anyway, the thought of Cal missing from her life threatened to leave a gaping, empty space inside her.

  Just about the size of her heart.

  * * *

  Cal usually enjoyed spending Saturdays working on his cars. Today, however, as he pulled open the doors of the barn he'd converted into a garage, he couldn't scavenge much enthusiasm for his favorite hobby. His head still spun from his talk with Maddy and his first meeting with Dr. Richard Watson.

  It had been evident from the man's pinched frown that he wished Cal would crawl back under a rock and leave Madeline alone.

  Instead, Cal crawled under the white Thunderbird with his rubber mallet, prepared to knock out the worst of the dent Allison had given it the other night. He went to work with gentle taps, thinking that his encounter with Dr. Watson should have reminded Cal of all the reasons he ought to stay away from Maddy.

  They both taught at U of L, but before that, they had obviously come from two different planets. They were headed in different career directions, too.

  Cal taught because he liked to share his knowledge and maybe to save a few people the hard knocks that he'd taken in the business world. But teaching could only be a secondary job for him. His first interest would always be his business.

  Madeline taught because she belonged to the academic elite, like her father. One day she'd publish her papers in fancy journals and tour the country on long sabbaticals, spending semesters as a guest lecturer at the universities of her choice.

  Their paths probably wouldn't cross too much in the future. And Maddy had already made it clear she didn't want a relationship in her life right now.

  So why waste time thinking about her nonstop?

  He hit his thumb with the mallet and swore. He had to get his head on straight soon, preferably before he lost a finger to his absentmindedness.

  Maybe he'd settle down tonight with a trip to the library. He'd been meaning to check out a few books on the psychology of teenage wunderkinds. His sister deserved a well-informed brother, at least.

  "Excuse me?" a voice called from somewhere outside Cal's backyard-barn-turned-garage. "Cal Turner?"

  Cal figured only a salesperson would be out here on a Saturday asking for him by his full name. He debated pretending he wasn't home.

  Whoever it was entered the garage, judging by the click of shoes against the concrete floor.

  Apparently this person wasn'
t going to give up easily.

  The intruder let out a long, low whistle.

  Either a gorgeous woman had somehow materialized in Cal's converted garage for the intruder to admire, or the newcomer had an eye for cars.

  Hoping to take his mind off Madeline for a few minutes, Cal pulled himself out from under the front fender.

  And came face-to-face with the pinched-frown father of the woman who dominated his dreams. Only now the good professor wasn't wearing the pinched frown. No, Dr. Richard Watson's mouth currently hung wide open as his eyes ran appreciatively over the lines of Cal's fifty-eight Thunderbird.

  Cal propped himself up against one of the barn's inner support beams and watched as Maddy's tweed-clad father all but drooled over the biggest prize in Cal's car collection.

  Cal couldn't take his usual pride in showing off his automotive gem, however. Not when he knew Dr. Watson had probably spent the last two days telling Maddy all the reasons why Cal wasn't fit to so much as carry her books home from school.

  "Can I help you?" Cal said finally.

  Dr. Watson nodded vaguely, still staring at the car. "Madeline said you had a fifty-seven Chevy, but she never mentioned a thing about this." He gestured at the T-bird.

  "She hasn't seen it." Cal didn't take this car out very often. She wouldn't see it unless she came to his house. The idea held a disturbing amount of appeal.

  Damn, but he had to get her and her crazy dissertation project out of his mind.

  Dr. Watson smiled. "She would be impressed."

  Cal didn't want to think about impressing Maddy. Better that he left her alone. He waited, knowing Maddy's father hadn't come here to talk about cars.

  "She's a good girl, you know," the professor said at last, turning to face Cal. "Just a little unfocused at times. She's always been a bit too scattered to really discipline herself."

  Cal struggled to follow the conversation. "Are we talking about your daughter?"

  Dr. Watson stiffened. "Of course."

  "Maddy is the most disciplined woman I've ever met."

  Her father smiled indulgently. "That may be, son, but in her field she needs to work more rigorously than in other professions."

  Cal had the feeling Dr. Watson saw little self-discipline involved in the life of a car mechanic. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing," he replied.

  Or at least she knew what she was doing in her work life, Cal silently amended. He couldn't help but wonder if she regretted her recent decisions in her personal life.

  "Nevertheless," her father continued evenly, "I wanted to come out here to ask your support in helping her achieve her career goals."

  In other words, stay the hell away from my daughter. Cal read the message loud and clear.

  "She told me you are one of her closest friends," the professor continued, "so I know you will want to help her as much as I do."

  Her closest friend.

  Thank God the professor didn't know how close they'd recently become. Cal shut out a tantalizing image of Maddy covered in pink soap bubbles.

  Cal took a stabilizing breath. "I want her to be happy, sir."

  Dr. Watson smiled. "Good. My Madeline is a sharp girl and she'll go as far as she wants to if she sets her mind to it."

  "Maddy is the smartest woman I know," Cal agreed.

  The man actually rose up on his toes. Her father beamed. "I can see we share more than one common interest then." He peered around the converted barn. "Would you mind showing me the Chevy before I leave you to your peace?"

  The professor looked so genuinely hopeful, Cal didn't have a choice. But as he led the way to the smaller shed that held the Chevy, Cal had the feeling that he'd just agreed to more than an automotive demo.

  He'd made a tacit agreement with the professor to keep his hands off Madeline. Something he wondered if he'd be able to do. Maybe if Maddy continued on her quest to trash her reputation and tumble headlong into trouble every chance she got, he would be able to keep his distance.

  After all, what had drawn him to her from the beginning had been her oh-so-proper respectability and her unbelievable smarts. Although the short skirts had definitely made him a little crazy, they weren't what Madeline Watson was really about.

  He needed to at least lay low until after the guardianship hearing had passed. He hadn't caused too much of a scene with Madeline yet, but there was still another week until the hearing for him to mess up. Heaven knew, between her stilettos and her steely determination to explore her untamed side, Madeline sizzled like an overheated radiator waiting to explode.

  Cal still really wanted the sizzle.

  But this was one time in his life he couldn't afford to get burned.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  Madeline trekked across campus, her breath curling into white wisps in the chilly night air. She hitched the strap of her book bag a little higher on her shoulder to resettle the weight of her notepaper and books. What a way to spend a Saturday.

  Banners reading Go Cardinals hung from every archway. The brick academic halls bore bright red and yellow team spirit signs. Someone had stamped oversize cardinal footprints with yellow paint on the sidewalk from the parking lot to the library.

  The rest of the student body seemed to have deserted the school grounds for the football game at Cardinal Stadium. Even her father had caught Cardinal fever, attending the game with his physics buddy.

  Her dad seemed to be having the time of his life this trip, despite the insufficient size of the local physics conference. Today he'd made it a point to visit Cal and apparently had wheedled his way into seeing Cal's car collection.

  Madeline couldn't help but feel a little left out. She envied the hours her father had spent with Cal, time she'd once taken for granted when Cal had been her friend.

  She'd missed him this week. She hardly counted their confrontational encounter on Thursday as time spent together. What would it be like after Allison's guardianship hearing? Would Cal have any time left for Madeline, or would he be glad for an excuse to put space between them?

  Trudging up the few steps to Ekstrom Library, Madeline consoled herself that at least she'd learned a lesson from what had happened with Cal. She knew now that she'd gone about her dissertation project all wrong. Cal had told her she shouldn't try to change her reputation or alter her image to sway the review committee, and he'd been right.

  If she had been thinking rationally, she would have capitalized on her strengths as Cal had suggested instead of rushing to the mall to buy the slinkiest dress in stock. She needed to go back to the books and to develop a dynamite project proposal to convince even her most skeptic detractor that respectable Madeline Watson knew what she was doing.

  Tugging open the library door, Madeline stepped back into comfortable terrain—the cavernous world of periodicals and microfiche. She dropped off her books to return at the main desk and made a beeline for the wide staircase. The library closed early on Saturdays, so she needed to make an efficient sweep for materials and then head over to the Honors building to review them at her leisure.

  She had already hit the first step when she experienced the irresistible urge to turn around. A sixth sense called her backward, halting her in midstride. Her other five senses leaped into hyper-drive, sending a shiver of awareness through her.

  Madeline followed her instincts and pivoted, knowing who she would see before she actually spied him. Cal sat on a bench about twenty feet away, absorbed in a book and oblivious to her presence.

  Savoring the moment, Madeline allowed herself the pure pleasure of looking at him. He hadn't bothered with a collared shirt or khakis tonight He'd opted for his most comfortable clothes to work in the library. Clad in jeans and a blue T-shirt with the Perfect Timing logo, he looked better than most men could manage in a tuxedo.

  Soft cotton stretched and hugged wide shoulders. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, holding his book out in front of him. His hazel eyes darted efficiently across th
e page, all his attention focused on the hardback volume bearing the title Parenting the Precocious Child.

  Ouch. Madeline took a deep breath and told herself to be grateful for the clear reminder that Cal had other things on his mind right now. He couldn't afford to embroil himself in her crazy stunts. And he definitely didn't want a repeat performance of the other night, much as she might wish otherwise.

  She'd be wise to walk away, to leave Cal alone to fight his battle for Allison without her in the way.

  Gulping in one last delicious look at him, Madeline sighed. It wouldn't be easy to do the right thing, but if she ever wanted to salvage a friendship with Cal, she'd have to find a way to quench the acute case of lust she seemed to have developed for him.

  "Maddy?" Cal's voice rolled over her, capturing her in a net of her own desires once again.

  Part of her wanted to stamp her foot in frustration, while the other part wanted to pump her fist in the air and shout a triumphant, "Yes!"

  She spun to face him, but didn't make a move to get closer. "Hey, Cal."

  He snapped his book shut and rose. Closing the distance between them with his usual lazy grace, he eyed her carefully. "You weren't going to just disappear upstairs without saying hi, were you?"

  She shrugged. "I thought I'd better leave you alone until the whole guardianship thing dies down." Seeing the grave look on his face, she couldn't hold back a smile to share with him. "You'll do a great job with Allison, Cal. You already do."

  Cal shook his head. "I don't know, Maddy. She went to the football game tonight with her friends."

  Madeline laughed, grateful for a topic to focus on besides their relationship. "No wonder you're hiding out in the library."

  "I'll just stare at the clock if I'm home."

  It flittered on the tip of her tongue to tell him he just needed something more engaging to think about to make the time pass faster, but she wouldn't. Not anymore.

  Her days of fierce flirtation with Cal were over.

  She drifted up another step and readjusted her book bag on her shoulder. "Well, good luck distracting yourself. Guess I'll go get to work on my research."