It's Never too Late

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “At least think about it.”

  “No, Nonnie.” Turning, she pinned the woman with her courtroom stare. “I will not sleep with Mark just to keep him from marrying another woman.”

  “Then do it because you want to.”

  Addy excused herself to go to the bathroom, praying that Nonnie hadn’t seen how badly her hands were shaking.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  MARK WAITED FOR Addy outside her botany lecture on Monday morning.

  In jeans and a white, button-down blouse, with her satchel over her shoulder, she could have passed for any one of the many students around them, except that she was the only one he noticed. Her particular gait. The exact color of her blond hair.

  The set of her shoulders. The way she tilted her head. Didn’t matter, he had her inside of him.

  She walked right up to him, which he took as a good sign. She could have pretended not to see him standing there. “I miss you.” His jeans and short-sleeved polo shirt were appropriate for the seventy-degree coolness, but he was sweating.

  “I just saw you on Friday night,” she said, but the light tone in her voice didn’t match the way her eyes took him in.

  “How’d your exam go?” she asked next, falling into step beside him.

  “I totally aced it.”

  She grinned and nudged him. “Good for you!”

  She’d touched him and he was on fire. How could he contemplate marrying another woman when he wanted this one so fiercely?

  “I never saw myself as a classroom type of guy.”

  He’d never seen himself as a guy wanting more than he could have, either.

  “It doesn’t surprise me at all.” Addy’s glance was personal. His body responded. “You just needed to give yourself a chance.”

  Ella would have made some comment about him being too good for her. Or asked him if he was going to move to a big city and work at some fancy job. She’d have wanted to know how his good news affected her.

  Had she ever thought of what he wanted?

  Was he being selfish now, only thinking of himself?

  They reached the entrance to her parking lot. In silence, he walked beside her. And then she was pulling out her keys. Unlocking the door.

  Before climbing in, though, she turned to him. “For what it’s worth, I...miss you, too.”

  His hands in his pockets, Mark nodded. “I’ll be home for dinner tonight so you don’t have to worry about Nonnie.”

  “I know. She called out to me as I was leaving this morning.”

  He couldn’t let it end. Not yet.

  “So...will you join me outside tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  He had to get to class. And she looked so damned good, standing there with the reflection of the sun peeking through the trees to linger like gold dust in her hair.

  He’d never known hell could feel so good.

  * * *

  ADDY STOPPED BACK in to see Randi Parsons Monday afternoon. She’d had a message on her machine the day before from the woman she’d once hoped would be her aunt. Randi wanted permission to check her “sister’s” academic records for possible admittance into Montford.

  Which sounded like Randi might have found some scholarship money. Was Will’s baby sister a miracle worker? Or a softhearted woman with shady ethics?

  Her heart hoped for the former, but her instincts were pointing toward the latter. She’d spent the night before going over the university’s budgets while Mark had been at work. Starting back when Will had become president of the university.

  She’d been nibbling away at the plate of chocolate chip cookies Nonnie had insisted she bring home with her.

  And had lost her appetite when she got to the women’s athletic budget from ten years before. Or rather, both the men’s and women’s budgets. The men’s athletic budget, which was nationally understood in the educational world as an investment against revenue for the school, had been drastically cut to give more money to women’s athletics. The person responsible for the budget request had been Randi Parsons.

  It had been approved by big brother Will.

  And while, on the surface, it seemed fair that both athletic programs receive equal funding, the reality could be seen in the financials. Women’s athletics did not earn out its expenditures. And men’s athletics, which used to bring in a sizable sum of money to help fund other university programs, had progressively, over the years, brought in less and less.

  Everyone knew that athletics were a major source of support for many universities, Montford included. And it was also common practice to designate program funds commensurate with what they brought in.

  It could be reasoned—it would be reasoned if anyone wanted to take cause against Will on the topic—that he’d put the entire university at financial risk by granting his little sister’s request.

  Randy wasn’t in her office. Feeling pushed from the inside out, Addy started looking around for Will’s sister, poking her head into an equipment room. The basketball gym. A dance studio.

  All the while trying not to think about Mark Heber. She was in Shelter Valley to work. She had to get the job done so that she could leave.

  The sooner, the better.

  Before she did something stupid. Like sleep with a man she couldn’t have.

  The gymnastics gym door burst open, almost slamming into Addy as she reached to pull it open. Randi stood there, a horrified look on her face.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Addy attempted a natural smile. “I’m fine.”

  Dressed as usual in spandex shorts, matching top and spotless tennis shoes, Randi smiled back, her eyes opening wider.

  “Adele! How nice to see you again. How’s your sister?”

  “Fine.” Addy felt sick looking at the sincere smile on Randi’s face.

  She’d slept in the same bed as Randi more times than she could count.

  “I’m glad you stopped in! Did you get my message?” Randi asked. “I’m still working on scholarship money. We have to be careful not to break any rules, but I think I might have found a private donor willing to help....”

  “That’s okay,” Addy said. She’d been following the woman’s progress, the online forms Randi had filed, all in accordance with policy. Randi hadn’t pulled any strings where the scholarship admittance was concerned. If she’d played favorites ten years before for the basketball player, she’d apparently learned her lesson. There were no forms filed on that one. “I was just stopping by to let you know that she got another offer. She’s going to be playing for a community college close to home her first year with the hopes of getting an agent.”

  Her former client was doing so. The words were only half lie.

  “Well, if you’re sure...”

  Addy nodded. “She’s made her decision.”

  “Tell her to keep us in mind for next year, then,” Randi said. “I viewed her footage. She’s good.”

  “I will.”

  “Let her know that it would be best if she applies by January.”

  Backing out the door, Addy nodded. She would pass on the information to her former client. She’d taken the girl’s case gratis because the girl and her parents hadn’t been able to hire an attorney. And if their allowing her to use their daughter’s name for this, another case, could actually get the girl seen by Randi Parsons, if it could get her into Montford, then something good would have come from involving them in the deception. Not that
they knew she’d used their daughter’s name deceitfully. Just that she’d needed it for a case.

  “Thank you,” she said to Randi, and got the hell out of there.

  One thing was for sure, if the threats against Will materialized into actual charges before they discovered who was behind the anonymous letters, his defense team would have an arsenal of information ready and waiting for them.

  If nothing else, Addy was doing her job well.

  Randi would forgive her the lies, if she ever found out about them, because Addy was working under direction from the older brother Randi adored. The question was, would Addy ever be able to live with herself again?

  She was finding out that she was a good liar.

  The fact that she was doing it for a good cause didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  * * *

  MARK JOINED JON on his favorite rock about ten minutes into his afternoon break on Monday.

  “Hey, man, I didn’t see you around this weekend.” And they’d had a test in class that morning so hadn’t had a chance to talk then.

  “Abe was throwing up all weekend.”

  So Jon, as his sole caregiver, had to miss work. On one level, he understood.

  But from a work standpoint—which mattered since Mark had stuck his neck out to get Jon the job—they couldn’t have a new hire calling off.

  “I traded with someone on third shift and had a neighbor lady, Veronica, sleep over,” Jon continued. “Abe’s pretty clingy and the doctor says it’s okay if I pander to that a bit, just so long as I also get him out and socializing. I figured puking was a good excuse for pandering. Anyway, the doc says it was just a twenty-four-hour thing. He’s fine now.”

  Mark listened, and his mind wandered, too. What if Ella still wanted to marry him? Outrageous as the idea sounded, he was seriously thinking about asking for full custody of their child.

  “If you worked nights, when did you sleep?”

  “When he napped, mostly.”

  “How’d you do on your test?”

  “Didn’t ace it, but I’m sure I passed.”

  If a twentysomething guy could raise a kid alone, then he could certainly do it.

  “You ever have time to go out?” he asked now, trying for a light tone as he felt out his own situation.

  “Not much.” Jon chuckled.

  “That ever get you down?”

  Taking half of his peanut butter sandwich in one bite, Jon shrugged. “Sometimes, but not as much as having no folks or family around. Now that’s a downer.”

  Agreed. “Still, you’re such a young man to be raising a child alone.”

  “It’s better than not having my son at all,” Jon said. “And really, he’s a fun little dude. I like having him to come home to.”

  “Bet it puts a damper on your love life, though. No time to date, huh?”

  Not that Mark cared a whit about that for himself at the moment. With Addy moving back to Colorado at the end of the semester...

  “Nah. The problem is, I don’t want to. What with school and work and taking care of Abe.”

  Something registered within Mark, a distant memory. Or understanding. He didn’t give up school because he had to. Just like Jon wasn’t giving up dating because he had to. He’d given up school because keeping him and Nonnie together had been more important to him.

  He didn’t see that the realization changed anything about his current situation. He didn’t know what it mattered. He just felt...different.

  “You’ve got time,” he told Jon, packing up the garbage left from his lunch. “When the right woman comes along, you’ll feel differently. You’ll know.”

  What the hell had he said that for? Like he knew what he was talking about?

  Unless he did.

  “In the meantime, I have a proposition for you.” This wasn’t about him. Life wasn’t about him. Life was about perspective.

  “What kind of proposition? You’ve already done so much for me.”

  “I live with my grandmother. She’s in a wheelchair and doesn’t get out much, and I’m looking for things to keep her off the computer. She loves kids and since we don’t know too many people here yet, I was thinking maybe some night this week, when we’re both off, you could bring Abe by to visit with me and Nonnie so you can have some time to yourself to do whatever you want to do.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “Then I’ll bring him by, see if he and your grandmother hit it off, and we can take it from there.”

  Thursday night was the only night both he and Jon were off. He made a date.

  And wondered if Addy would want to join them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  WITH PROOF IN HAND that Randi Parsons Foster followed protocol regarding scholarships—at least sometimes—Addy went straight back to her duplex, ready to take a look at a sampling of Montford’s scholarship applications. Applicants who’d been accepted, those who’d been turned down. Anyone who applied and lost out to someone else could feel that they had a discriminatory lawsuit.

  She started with the year Randi had found money for Susan Farley. Where had the money come from? And had anyone who was similarly situated been turned down due to a lack of funds that same semester?

  Punching in a couple of key words, she ended up with half a page of female athletes who’d applied for money to play for Montford during the year Susan Farley had started there.

  She printed off the page and added it, along with the names of the three other applicants who’d applied for Todd Moore’s position, to the folder she was preparing to turn over to Greg Richards. Every single one of those names had just become possible suspects in the Will Parsons extortion attempt.

  Or possible victims in the Will Parsons discrimination suit.

  She looked at her blinking cursor.

  She had computerized scholarship records from the past twenty years at her disposal. Could look up anything she wanted. But, ethically, she could only do so in accordance with her investigation. She compiled a list of applicants, rejections and awards for the twenty years. Printed it off, too.

  Looking up Mark Heber’s application wouldn’t be in accordance with her investigation. But she’d done the right thing. Looked through the records that would be most likely to give rise to a blackmail threat—personnel files, classroom procedures—first. And she’d looked at the Susan Farley scholarship because she already knew there were some questions about that one. Susan had received a full ride, private funding.

  No source named.

  Addy had a question about one more. Yes, she’d found out about Mark’s unusual scholarship situation because he’d confided in her as a friend. But the whole reason she was in Shelter Valley, posing as a student, was so that she could get in with students and uncover any possible instances of discrimination.

  She had to take a look at Mark’s file. Find out who’d applied for Mark Heber’s scholarship on his behalf.

  There was nothing there.

  * * *

  ELLA CALLED JUST before he got off Monday evening. Seven forty-five in Arizona made it almost eleven in Bierly. Another late-night call. Not a good sign.

  He didn’t rush out of the plant. Or call her the second he got to his car. He called Nonnie. His grandmother was just on her way to bed.

  “I’m settling in for the night, Markie-boy, so don’t come poking in my door when you get home. The l
ight wakes me up.”

  “Since when?”

  “I got my you-know-whats on, too, so I won’t be needing the bathroom. I’m tired. And I want some time to myself.”

  “You’ve had hours to yourself this evening.”

  “Nah, the church ladies stopped by. They want me to show ’em how to do them Christmas chimes I made out of can lids—you know the ones that made the money for the church school a few years ago?”

  “Yeah, I know.” And he didn’t have to wonder how the church ladies knew. Nonnie had been very proud of her invention while he’d had cramps in his hands for a week after bending all the lids just the way she’d wanted them. “I’ve got my drill in the back of the truck,” he told her. “And my clamp and pliers, too. You start saving your lids and I’ll get them ready for you.”

  “Good. I was gonna ask you tomorrow. Now, I’m off to bed. You drive careful and remember I have my phone on the pillow, and I’ll call if I need anything, so you don’t have to worry I’m gonna come rolling out into the middle of anything you might be doing tonight.”

  “You’re welcome to roll out into my homework anytime.”

  “Addy’s been home alone all night,” Nonnie said. “Ain’t right, a young girl like that, good-looking and sweet, spending so much time over there alone. I’d have invited her for dinner but the ladies was here.”

  “I’ll check the patio when I get home,” Mark said because he knew the conversation wouldn’t end until he did. “If she’s out there, I’ll tell her good-night for you.”

  “She likes white wine.”

  “Nonnie...”

  “You should stop on your way home and get some.”

  “Good night, old woman.”

  He was grinning as he hung up. And didn’t immediately dial his next call.

  He drove out to the desert instead. To a vista that overlooked the city lights in Shelter Valley. What was he going to say if Ella wanted to marry him?

  The right thing. He had to do the right thing.