by Paisley Ray
Waving my comment off, she mumbled, “Just a few bits I’ve rescued from obscurity. Now, it’s going to be a busy semester so shall we have you start say …”
Something in my throat felt dry and a tickle cough erupted. Schleck poured me a glass of water from an etched crystal decanter that rested on a rosewood sideboard with inlay drawers. I tried not to stare, but the carving details were exquisite. “My class schedule is really full,” I began.
“I have your transcript. With adequate organization it’s manageable. Besides, you need to meet all the requirements of the scholarship: grades, work-study, and volunteering. I can cover your non-classroom requirements and I’m sure there are volunteer opportunities at the Weatherspoon gallery.”
She set my vision of a fun-filled—boys, booze and bars—easy-paced junior year aflame.
My head went blank, which matched the stare I was sure had plastered my face.
There was a knock on the door and without being invited, Tuke, the catch-all on campus—custodian, security, and maintenance man—stepped inside. His uniform, coordinating navy slacks and snap front short-sleeve shirt, hadn’t been updated since the fifties and in case you forgot his name, it was embroidered on a patch just above his left shirt pocket.
“Well I’ll be! If it ain’t Rachael O’Brien. Been staying out of trouble, I hope?”
Everyone being so concerned with my staying out of trouble was annoying.
Schleck held the door while Tuke Walson placed a package on her desk. “Another one from Germany. Professor Schleck, don’t you look like the frog that’s gone and moved to the fly farm. The summer off radiates from …”
“Where do I need to sign?” she asked.
“None needed. The parcel came through the campus mail office.”
Schleck fixed her stern eyes on me. “Our usual Friday then. I have some cataloguing work. You can start then.”
I smelled defeat and it stunk. Schleck had trapped me and I’d let her. Fine print of the scholarship? Work-study and volunteering? Where was that spelled out? I wondered if she was manipulating me. I’d been so excited to have secured the financial scholarship, and so wrapped up in Dad’s complete surprise and euphoria with the windfall, that I hadn’t bothered to read much past the opening page of the award letter.
“You okay?” Tuke asked in the hallway.
“As okay as I can be after an encounter with Schleck.”
He walked me to the stairs. “Professor Schleck has a way of casting a spell with her beauty, brains, and charm, doesn’t she?”
A sour taste coated my tongue and I stopped to look at Tuke. His bright blues bobbled under his eyelids. “Are you crushing on the professor?”
He rocked on his heels. “Can ya tell? Been meaning to ask her out for some time. I couldn’t help but hear that you’ll be working in her office. Do you think you could put a good word in for me?”
“What?”
“She’s so dedicated to teaching. Acts like she barely notices me. I sure could use an insider. You know, to mention my finer points.”
I looked at Tuke, his sunburnt cheeks and neck, the paunch that pressed against the snaps on his grease stained work shirt, and the dorky steel-toe black lace-up boots on his feet.
“Come on, Rach, do me a favor. I just need an in. My personality will do the rest.”
NOTE TO SELF
Katie Lee has not learned the boyfriend golden rule. When they do you wrong, dump their ass, and never, ever speak to them again. Must remind her of that one.
Tuke Walson and prickly Schleck? Shakespeare pegged it. Love Is Blind.
Buy Johnny Cakes at Amazon.com
Contents
Title page
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
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