A Silver Lining

by T. R. McClure

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for T. R. McClure and…

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  A Silver Lining

  by

  T. R. McClure

  The Flower Basket Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Silver Lining

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by T. R. McClure

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2014

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-172-4

  The Flower Basket Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for T. R. McClure and…

  NEVER TOO LATE:

  “Good characters, engaging story, and the setting is delicious. Kat is complex and Alex is warm and endearing.”

  ~Fleeta

  ~*~

  “This is an engaging story about figuring out the balance between what you want to do with your life and your role in your family. A delightful clean romantic story.”

  ~Silver Fox

  ~~~

  FLYING HOME:

  “What an entertaining read. Leaves a lot to the imagination while encouraging those who are older that romance can happen at any time.”

  ~Jean F.

  ~*~

  “This story is the epitome of sweet. It’s even sweet enough to allow an older teenager to read. And it’s brutally honest. Most people don’t tell you when you get married that you should like your in-laws, and this story covers that as well as what to do with those pre-marital woes and jitters.”

  ~Long And Short Reviewer

  Dedication

  To my dad,

  who always saw the silver lining

  Chapter One

  “I tell you they’re droppin’ like flies.” Professor Mitch Collins, twirling an unlit cigar in his fingers, leaned back in his chair and propped his boots on the corner of his desk. He stuck the cigar in one side of his mouth and spoke out of the other. “Why you guys think you hafta marry ‘em is beyond me.” As he stared at the ceiling tiles, he chewed on the stogie and wondered if anyone would notice if he lit up. “Marriage cuts in on a man’s leisure time.”

  Fellow colleague Matt Berk threw back his head and laughed. Thrusting his hands in the back pockets of new jeans, he stared out the third-floor office window. “Who’s dropping like flies?”

  Following his friend’s gaze to the blue sky, Mitch took a moment to appreciate the beautiful California spring day, as well as his job at Almond Valley College. The word content fit Mitch to a T, at least until his poker buddies got bit by the love bug. Unable to believe his friend wasn’t aware of the epidemic, Mitch pointed at his friend with both trigger fingers. “You, for one. You missed the last two poker games. And then Walls…” he pulled the cigar from his mouth, “…goes to Germany to attend an IT conference and comes home married and ends up with twins—”

  “Colleen and I were in Alaska salmon fishing. Sitting in a boat with a beautiful woman who enjoys fishing beats sitting in a smoke-filled room with a bunch of ugly guys.” Matt’s face creased with a grin, his thoughts obviously returning to his recent vacation. “And Frank and Helga are over the moon happy with those twin—”

  “—and your sister-in-law’s brother-in-law—”

  “Huh?” Matt’s brow furrowed as he slanted a look over his shoulder.

  “Alex, Alex Marino, Wendy’s brother-in-law. He’s the latest.” Mitch rubbed his jaw, suddenly realizing he had forgotten to shave…again. “Got hooked up with the blond professor from Germany. What’s up with that?”

  “You haven’t met the right woman yet, Mitch.” Matt turned, crossed his arms, and leaned against the windowsill. “Although I have to admit, when you and Donna were together, I thought I heard wedding bells.”

  Mitch pulled a dart from a chipped coffee cup on his desk. Even now, years later, the memory of his brush with marriage brought on a severe case of heartburn. He rubbed his chest, snagging his jacket with the dart in the process. “Donna was a close call.” He squinted at the corkboard on the wall, threw the dart, and hit the bull’s eye with a thud. “She’s the reason I don’t date anyone over thirty. Younger women don’t have expectations yet. No biological clock. No baggage. I have absolutely no interest in confining myself to one woman, especially an older woman.”

  “By older woman, you mean a woman your own age.” Matt wagged a finger in the air. “I used to say I wasn’t interested in marriage, too…until Colleen landed her plane smack-dab in the middle of the Berk Family Almond Grove. I took one look at her backing out of the Tri-pacer and I was a goner.” Matt grinned and his dark eyes lit up. “I just didn’t realize until later.”

  Mitch harrumphed as he eyed the young business agriculture professor. “So, my friend, you’re saying her backside attracted you first?”

  Dark eyes even darker, Matt leaned forward and pointed a finger inches from Mitch’s nose. “Don’t you dare ever tell Colleen.” He relaxed against the window sill. “Of course not…her backside was the first part of her anatomy I saw, that’s all. My attraction was the whole package…the airplane, the emergency landing, the auburn pony tail, the green eyes—”

  Matt’s spicy cologne warred with the heavy aroma of the cigar. Another change since Matt had married…he smelled better. Mitch wrinkled his nose. “Spare me.” Despite Matt’s assertion, Mitch was confident no woman would ever make him smell better. If she didn’t like the odor of a fine cigar, well then, too bad. The episode with Donna had taught him a valuable lesson. He rubbed his belly, remembering breakfast had been a burrito left over from dinner the night before. “I feel a bout of nausea coming on.” He plucked a gray hair from his jacket and was taken aback at the length. Man…he needed a haircut.

  Matt shoved off the windowsill and waved a hand. “Let’s go to lunch. We’ll talk about your latest purchase to get you over your nausea.” He grinned, a distinct twinkle in his eye.

  With a shake of his head, Mitch dropped his boots to the scuffed hardwood floor with a thump. Matt was still in the honeymoon phase of his marriage, most definitely. Colleen was a fine woman, no doubt about it. Retired from the Air Force, a private pilot, and a looker to boot…but marriage? He threw an arm over Matt’s shoulders as they entered the hall. Talking about his sixties convertible was preferable to the subject of marriage, for sure. “This baby has the original paint job, she’s in mint condition—”

  Matt made a time-out sign. “Bottom line…how much did she set you—”

  “Doctor Collins and Doctor Berk, I’m glad I caught you before you went to lunch. I want you to meet a new employee.”

  Both men jerked to a stop as they came face to face with the Human Reso
urce Director and an unfamiliar woman. Mitch dropped his unlit cigar in the pocket of his favorite sport coat, although to call it a sport coat was probably an injustice to sport coats everywhere.

  Mitch had spied the jacket as he strolled by a yard sale on campus, falling in love immediately with the worn suede patches on the elbows and the faded patina of the green-and-blue plaid. The old coat went perfectly with his usual uniform of faded blue denim shirt and faded blue jeans. When he was teaching, he barely met the dress code of jacket and tie, but meet standards he did. Today, his tie was a print of tiny white Billy goats on a blue background he received at last year’s faculty Christmas party. Mitch slowly removed his arm from Matt’s shoulders and fought the urge to straighten his tie. “Long time no see, Mr. Black.” He caught Matt’s eye and winked.

  Recently promoted to Human Resource Director, Eric Black had just turned thirty…and eager, so eager. Mitch wanted to throw up every time Eric called to talk about staffing in his department. Most of the time, Mitch managed to avoid the young man but was almost out of excuses and hiding places. Today, Eric had bypassed the phone and correctly figured the best time to catch the professors was between the end of their second period classes and lunch. Maybe the kid was wising up. Even so, he had a long way to go.

  Eric blushed.

  He always did when Mitch called him Mister, which is why Mitch continued to do so.

  “Uh, professor, you can call me Eric.” He cast a sideways glance at the woman, whose gaze swiveled back and forth from Matt to Mitch, and then finally came to rest on Mitch’s pocket, where his fingers still twirled the hidden cigar.

  She slowly raised her gaze to his face, taking in the worn elbow patches and pausing on his tie. Laughter drifted through the open window at the end of the hall, along with the smell of fresh-cut grass.

  Mitch detected the faint note of disapproval in her pursed lips. Not surprising. Women her age always disapproved of Mitch. He was used to their disregard. He bit back a groan at the thought of another new employee…and an unfriendly one at that. He could only hope her office was on the other side of campus, as close to the border as possible, and her occupation wouldn’t affect Mitch in any way…like maintenance, or technical support, or even food service—as long as she stayed in the kitchen.

  He dropped his gaze to her feet, clad in low-heeled navy pumps, and then continued up the legs—nice—and the curvaceous hips—not bad—taking in the navy blue pinstriped suit and white blouse with one…count ‘em, one…button undone, and simple pearl earrings. Her dark brown hair curved under her chin in a smooth wave. Two or three strands of silver glistened in the casual bangs swept to one side of her forehead. Forty, bet she’s over forty.

  “Hello, Professor.” She thrust her hand toward Matt. “My name is Linda Lafferty.”

  “Ma’am.” Smiling, Matt shook her hand. “Just call me Matt. I’m a professor in the Department of Business Agriculture. Welcome to Almond Valley College.”

  Mitch watched the exchange and barely contained a sneer. Matt was so easy. Just call me Matt. What the hell was he thinking? This woman could be from Admin, and Admin usually meant trouble. The sudden silence clued him in, and he pulled his gaze from the iridescent pearl earring in her left ear to the ice-blue eyes now fixed on him. His body stilled, and he realized she was waiting for his greeting because her long fingers were pointed at his waist like a gun.

  No ring. He flicked a glance at the left hand positioned at her waist. No ring there either…figures.

  Mitch wrapped his fingers around hers, which were surprisingly soft and warm, not that he thought the gesture would actually feel like wrapping your fingers around a snake, but still… “Ma’am.” Her scent assailed him, completely unlike Matt’s, more floral, more delicate. He stared into the ice-blue eyes, which might actually be attractive if they weren’t so, so…icy. Man, he had his work cut out for him. Still holding her hand, he glanced at Eric, his face wreathed in his usual I’m from admin and I’m here to help you smile. “What department did you say this lovely lady will be working in, Mr. Black?”

  “He didn’t…and I’m no lady.” Linda Lafferty gave his hand a bone-crunching squeeze before releasing.

  At the sudden pain, Mitch winced, put his hand behind his back, and wiggled his fingers to return blood flow to the tips. He forced a smile and bit the inside of his lip to hold back his response. You can say that again.

  The woman placed her hands behind her back, spread her feet apart, and thrust her shoulders back.

  The stance flashed Mitch back to boot camp. He shook his head to erase the memory.

  “I’m the new Finance Director, gentleman. July one, the beginning of the fiscal year, is my first official day.”

  Mitch choked and whipped around his head. This was worse than he thought. “What—” his voice came out in a wheeze and he coughed to get his heartbeat back to normal, “—what happened to Judd?”

  “Judd? Are you referring to James Weakland?” She smiled.

  If you could call the brief upswing at the corners of her mouth a smile. For a moment, Mitch wondered if maybe she had killed poor Judd for his job. Despite smelling nice, she looked the type. A cold, calculating b—.

  “He took early retirement, Doctor Collins. Weren’t you invited to the luncheon? It’s this Friday.” Eric glanced from one to the other. “I’m sure you could still go, even though you were supposed to tell my secretary by Monday if you would attend.” He regarded Mitch with one raised eyebrow and a hint of disapproval.

  Maybe the boy has cajones after all. Mitch returned his gaze to the austere woman standing across from him. “You, you—”

  “Yes?” She crossed her arms at her waist and took a deep breath.

  “You’re the new Finance Administrator?” Mitch took stock of their surroundings and spotted the defibrillator on the wall further down the hall. Another shock like this and he would need to be zapped. He pasted on a smile. “Well, let me echo Doctor Berk’s sentiments, Ma’am, and welcome you to Almond Valley College. I’m sure you’ll love it here.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Doctor Collins, I’m sure I will.”

  Eric pointed to the door across from Mitch’s office. “This is one of our faculty lounges I was telling you about, Linda.”

  Linda raised her eyebrows and gave Mitch a measured look. “How convenient.”

  As the two peered into the room, Mitch leaned over and whispered into Matt’s ear. “I told you. Droppin’ like flies, man, like flies.”

  ****

  If she hadn’t been so appalled, Linda would have laughed at the expression on the face of the pony-tailed professor. She knew his type. They knew the best hiding places, how to get out of work, and how to disappear when management put out the call for volunteers. And he was friends with the former finance administrator, which spoke volumes. He was probably shaking in his—she cast a glance at his scuffed, black motorcycle footwear—boots.

  Linda Lafferty wasn’t born yesterday. After earning her master’s in economics, she had taken a job in New York to be near her fiancé. What a mistake. Although, sometimes, taking her first job in The Big Apple made everything since then seem like child’s play. The marriage was what turned out to be the mistake. Then again, she wouldn’t have her son, Austin.

  From New York City to Los Angeles, letting Roger—no, Cliff…Cliff Rock, Actor—follow his dreams. Any dream she ever had was long since dead and buried. All she wanted now was to get Austin through college and onto a stable career path. Her new position in Almendra, California, although a long way from her New Jersey home, was the culmination of her goal, because she could keep an eye on her son. Any deviation from his scholarly path would be dealt with swiftly.

  She turned her attention to the pair of college professors standing in the hall. The younger one, cute and blond, seemed earnest and pleasant. Not surprising, considering he was in agriculture, where working hard was the nature of the beast. She studied the older professor, whispering something in hi
s friend’s ear. He was cute too, in a Playboy, Leftover Hippy kind of way. He had a killer smile but then, didn’t they all? “What department did you say you were with, Doctor Collins?”

  The man’s head pivoted until his hazel-eyed gaze met hers.

  She suppressed a shiver at the obvious warning in the intense stare.

  “I didn’t, Ms. Lafferty.”

  She forced herself to straighten and smile at the gray-haired, pony-tailed charlatan. Never let ‘em see you sweat. “Touché, Doctor Collins, and please…call me Linda. I’m told the staff here is like family.”

  The hippy gave her a tight smile in return. “We are, Linda. Why don’t you call me Mitch?”

  With one finger, she tapped her chin and relished her accidental knowledge gleaned as she glanced through personnel records while waiting for Eric earlier. “Collins, Collins… Mitchell is your middle name.” She smiled. “Yes, your first name is Leroy, isn’t it?” The shocked expression on the man’s face was priceless and from the look on Matt’s face, she deduced correctly Matt hadn’t known Mitch’s proper first name until this moment.

  Score one for Linda.

  Matt guffawed and poked a finger in Mitch’s chest. “Your name is Leroy?” He bent over laughing, repeatedly hitting his leg with one hand. “Wait till I tell Walls.” He slapped his hands over his stomach and leaned against the wall, breathless from the laughing jag.

  If looks could kill…she would be dead right now.

  “Hey, you two.” Eric, a full head shorter than Mitch, rested his right hand on Linda’s shoulder and the other on Mitch’s, drawing them face to face. “I’ve got to run. I have a luncheon in—” he held up his left arm and peered at his watch, “—fifteen minutes.” His left hand dropped back on Mitch’s shoulder.

  Linda caught a faint grimace and a spark in the man’s eyes when Eric’s hand bounced back onto Mitch’s shoulder. Maybe he isn’t as laid-back as he appears. Maybe she needed to watch her back around this guy.

  “Would you mind showing Linda the rest of the building?” Eric’s hopeful eyes rested on Mitch, whose gaze had not wavered from Linda’s face since the Leroy announcement.