by Lynn Galli
I resisted the urge to grab his lapels and shake him. “Don’t talk to me about this project. You couldn’t wait to throw your colleagues in front of the firing line for this class.”
“I don’t have to take this from you,” he sulked.
“Not since I’ll be reporting your behavior to Dr. Goudy, no, you don’t. You’ll have to take it from him.” I smiled sweetly, watching as perspiration beads glistened on the red blotches.
“Screw you,” he spat and stormed off.
So much for his Ivy League degree. Clearly, vocabulary lessons weren’t included in the price of tuition. “Goddamn bastard!” I hissed loudly as he disappeared around the corner.
“I think that’s his legal name.” M’s soft voice sounded from behind me. I twirled in surprise to see her standing alone in the hallway. Before I could ask about the students, she offered, “I gave them ten minutes to jot down some questions for these mysterious new guest speakers on Thursday.” Oops. She’d seen right through my ruse. “Hey, I could be planning a field trip to the flea market where they can talk to all sorts of enterprising individuals.”
“That might work.” She glanced back at the path that Dr. Wagner had followed. “He must really want to be involved now.”
“Goddamn bastard!” I didn’t like that she seemed so willing to forget what an asshole he’d been in her class.
“Bit of a long first name, but fitting,” she mused.
I laughed at that wonderful dry humor. “I wonder if he shortens it to G.B.” My tease elicited a burst of laughter from her.
She looked almost as surprised by it as I was. “I came by to see if you’d switch advisory committee dates with me next week?”
“Sure,” she responded without hesitation.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
The playful glint in her eye looked like she wanted to say something. I realized if we’d been flirting, she might ask something like, “Hot date?” And if I remembered how to flirt back, I’d respond with, “That depends on your availability.” Only I hadn’t flirted in over a year, and with Jessie, I’d been rusty. Why was I thinking I could flirt with her when I’d been a disaster on my arranged date? And more importantly, I didn’t know if she was gay, so flirting would probably lead nowhere.
When she did speak, it was a polite farewell. “I’d better get back.”
“If I leave them alone for even a couple of minutes, they start planning a mutiny. With you, they’re probably planning a party.”
“Doubtful.” A flush hit her cheeks, and I felt the same kind of heat bloom inside me. “I’m sure it would take at least fifteen minutes to plan a mutiny.”
I had the sudden urge to nudge my shoulder against her, but she stood too far away. “What do you know about planning mutinies, Mathilda?”
Her teeth bit into her lower lip, trying to contain a smile.
“That no one named Mathilda could pull off a mutiny. See you Thursday, Briony.” She started back toward the classroom but stopped a few steps away. With her back still turned, she offered softly, “Thank you for dealing with Dr. Wagner.” Her quick escape kept me from being able to hug away the grateful yet defeatist tone. I now wanted to track down Dr. Wagner and deliberately taunt him throughout his own daily activities just so he could feel as awful as she had. I’d known he was the typical academic pompous ass, but he’d been downright underhanded in her class. If I found him now, would he be in the middle of tying some damsel to the train tracks? It honestly wouldn’t surprise me.
* * *
Back from the lunch break for the afternoon session and I’d already run out of visiting entrepreneurs. Any minute the class would figure out I’d been bluffing about my promise of new speakers. I should have invited local executives to help fill the time.
Just as I was about to admit my defeat, the door opened and in walked my friend Willa followed closely by M. “Hi, Briony.
This is the right time, isn’t it?” Willa gave me an innocent look. “I wasn’t supposed to be with the morning group, was I?” M made a show of pressing her fingertips to the bottom of her chin and nudging her mouth closed. My gaping mouth took her hint and clamped shut. “Of course, yes. Class, our last guest speaker is Willa Lacey, founder and CEO of Jucundus Software, number twenty-three on Fortune’s small business enterprises. I promised you someone who could walk you through every stage of getting funding and establishing a business. She’s also the only one of our speakers who’s launched an IPO. We’re extremely lucky to have her with us today.”
“Thank you for the gracious introduction, Briony.” She smiled modestly and turned to the class. “I remember being exactly where you are right now, and I’d be happy to impart whatever advice I can to get you through each start-up stage.” Hands shot up from every student in the class. Unfortunately, she called on Avery, a.k.a. the smart-ass, first. “I saw you on CNBC when your IPO hit. Wasn’t it one of the top ten highest single-day IPO gains?”
“That was quite a day, yes. I didn’t expect the stock to go hot, but it’s every entrepreneur’s dream. I also didn’t expect to be called for an interview. I nearly turned them down, but my co-founder threatened to kill me slowly if I did.” Avery slipped in another question while the class was laughing. “Aren’t you Coach Lysander’s…?” He seemed to be searching for the right word.
“Avery,” I warned, embarrassed that he was resorting to gossip.
Willa smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Yes, to all those words, but I’m here as a business owner today. If you want to talk basketball, come visit me at the next game.” A proud smile surfaced on my face at her easy response to a subject that usually made her clam up. I turned the smile on M, who’d managed to do that disappearing while still visible thing again. I just had to know how she’d gotten the elusive Willa to come to campus. Making a motion to Willa that I’d be right back, I gestured for M to follow me out.
Once the door closed us into the silent hallway, I asked,
“How?”
She looked back through the glass in the door. “I asked.”
“I’ve asked her plenty of times. She always turns me down.
She says the campus is Quinn’s domain. She’ll invite my class down to her company, but I need my students to focus on the start-up stage or they might be tempted to take shortcuts.” M tilted back, her eyes flipping up and to the left in contemplation. “That makes sense from an entrepreneurial standpoint. For my ops students, it’s crucial to see how all types of businesses function operationally. Jucundus is always fun and informational to visit.”
“Is that how you became friends with her, Quinn, and Jessie?”
“With Willa, yes, and to some extent Quinn. I only know Jessie through the gym.”
That explained why the group had never introduced us. “But how did you manage to get her on campus?” The slow smile that inched across her face drew me in. “I know something about Willa that most don’t.” I flipped my fingers back toward my upraised palm twice to get her to give it up. “She never says no to favors for friends, so I told her I considered this a favor.”
“And you asked her here because I overcommitted on Tuesday?”
Her sheepish glance away told me I got it right. “I wanted to prevent a mutiny as you’d feared.”
I trained my eyes on my savior for the day. “You’re something special, Minerva.” My tease caused her cheeks to color, but more noticeably, it caused my heart to flutter.
Chapter 15
"Wow’s it possible that a smoking babe like you is still available? Is something wrong with you?” Yet another blonde, Rachel, asked with a smirk that she probably considered sexy.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. Everyone had something wrong with them. Of course my biggest problem right now was that I was on a date with her. And that Caroline seemed to think that she could continue to do this to me.
“I’ve only recently been back on the market myself.” Wait, hadn’t she heard me? If someone told you there’s something
wrong with her, didn’t you follow that up?
“The bitch, I mean, my ex, left me two months ago. I’ve only had the guts to get back out there this past month. It took me a while to get over her, even if she was a bitch. We were together for a whole year, longer than I’ve ever been with anyone else.” Was Caroline playing a joke on me? I glanced around the restaurant, envious of the other diners. None of them were on a blind date, or if they were, theirs was a good one. I’d be willing to put money on the fact that no other blind date was admitting to having only had short-term relationships in the past. Nor were they saying that it only took them a month to get over the year-long relationship.
“What’s your favorite movie?”
Yet another topic change. This woman’s mind was like a maze. “Vertigo.” It wasn’t, but I was testing her.
“Is that a Quentin Tarantino movie? I thought I’d seen everything he’s done. He’s one of my favorites. Did you see Reservoir Dogs?”
Test over. She probably hadn’t seen a movie made before Die Hard. And who confuses Hitchcock with Tarantino? “Yes.”
“Didn’t you just love it? Most people like Pulp Fiction better, but I think Reservoir Dogs rocked. Pulp Fiction is so much worser.” Just plain worse. There’s bad, worse, and worst, no worser, but I kept the correction to myself. As much as I wasn’t enjoying this date, I wouldn’t forget my manners. “I didn’t really care for either.” I thought they were fine, but as favorites? Not for me.
“How’s that possible?”
Let’s see, the same way a “smoking babe” like me is still available? I wanted to retort. Lots of things seemed impossible to this woman.
And what was I, eighteen? Smoking babe? Please, someone give me strength. “A matter of taste, I guess.” I should have said “tastes”, but I doubted she’d get the distinction.
“You just haven’t seen them with the right person. Not everyone gets all the nuances.”
Yeah, because I’m a moron who couldn’t possibly understand all the intricacies of a pop culture film plot. Gee, thanks. I wondered if letting my inner snide free would get her to give up on this date.
“We’ll cuddle up on my couch and watch some Tarantino films for our next date. Guaranteed you’ll love them this time.” She winked and nodded her head with a confident smile. “So, why are you single, again?”
Seriously? Someone must be recording this. No one could actually be this self-involved, especially not on a date when you’re trying to impress someone. If I looked around, would I spot Caroline and Isabel with a camcorder documenting this disaster to show at the next Sunday dinner?
“You’ve got commitment issues, right? Hey, that was me before the bitch, but that eight months changed my mind.” Eight months? What happened to a “whole” year?
“If she hadn’t cheated on me, I’d still be with her,” she continued.
“I’m sorry to hear about her infidelity.” Best just to focus on her and soon the date would be over. They closed the restaurant at some point, didn’t they? Note to self: never pick an all-night restaurant for a date.
“Yeah, well, she said it was to get back at me for sleeping with an ex.”
“What?” I let slip but managed to keep the burst of amazed laughter to myself.
“Well,” she pronounced the word like she was talking about a sheep’s coat, “she was my high school sweetheart. That’s totally on the laminated list. A one-time thing, so worth it.” Now torn between wanting to dig deeper into her twisted mindset and getting the hell away from someone who admits to cheating on her “longtime” lover to a potential new lover, I cast about for any way to end this evening early.
Her phone rang. Again. Without a word or gesture to me, she snapped it open. “Hey…Yup…Nope…Hell, yeah…Will do.” She snapped the phone closed then looked at me. “Can I get a picture of you? I told my friend you were a hottie, and she wants proof.” Truly, someone was pulling my leg with this woman, right?
“Please don’t.” My tone left no room for argument, but she raised her phone to take a picture anyway. “Do you mind?”
“Why not?” She stared incredulously at me but finally lowered the phone. “Camera shy? Trust me, baby, you’ve got no reason to be.”
“I would rather you not take my photograph.”
“Whatever. I’ll just invite her and her wife out with us for our next date.”
Would we all cuddle up on the couch together to watch Tarantino’s latest wannabe mafia-slasher-snuff-romantic flick?
Caroline must be punished. As badly as I was being punished right now.
Before I could form any sort of reply, her phone rang yet again. “Talk to me,” she said after flipping it open.
Was I really the only human on earth who considered this behavior rude? Just because the phone rang didn’t mean you had to pick it up. Of course, there were exceptions—kids, an illness, a personal crisis—but none of those accounted for the six phone calls she’d already taken. Not to mention the numerous text messages. I was also probably the only person who considered text messaging to be the modern day equivalent of passing notes in homeroom. But could I really be it when I blamed cell phones for the loss of manners in society?
When the phone snapped closed this time, she narrowed her gaze at me. Perhaps my expression told her that she was being rude and childish. My own phone rang, but I ignored it. I’d turned on the ringer during her third call to prove a point. I didn’t think anyone would actually call, but I’d hoped for the chance.
Her eyes snapped to my bag. After the next ring, she got antsy.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
“No. We’re having dinner.”
“But it’s your phone.”
“What’s going to happen if I don’t get it? I’m not a doctor, police officer, or drug dealer, so it’s unlikely to be something that needs immediate attention.”
The disbelieving look I got told me she didn’t get my attempt at sarcasm. “How do you stand it? It could be important.”
“I can get to whatever it is after dinner,” I stressed. “If it were my son, then I would excuse myself to take the call, but that’s not his ring.”
“Just take the ca—hold on a sec. You’ve got a kid?”
“Yes, his name’s Caleb. He’s ten.” I knew my face beamed at the mere mention of him.
She started to rise from the table, a hand waving at me.
“Caroline didn’t say a word about a kid. No way. I don’t do women with kids. That’s not my deal.” My mouth gaped as I watched her snap her phone into its belt holster, ready for a quick draw in case someone called at high noon, I guess. “This isn’t going to work out. Kids don’t like me.” Convenient, ‘cause neither do I, was the retort that came to mind.
She shoved her wallet into her pocket and twirled her keys around a finger. “Doesn’t matter that you’re hotter than any of my exes. Take care, Briony. It’s a damn shame we couldn’t hook up.”
Speechless, I watched her walk out of the restaurant, leaving me with the check, and well, a hell of a lot of relief. I really had to get Caroline to back off before someone decided to put up hazard cones around me for being so horrible at dating. After that, I’d be buying Caleb a huge present.
* * *
A hand came up to stop my narration before I heard anything. “No way!” Isabel said, not bothering to hold in her laughter.
“Come on, you’re exaggerating, Bri,” Caroline insisted, joining Isabel’s giggle fit.
“I’m not, and thanks, by the way, for not warning her that I have a kid. I could have saved myself an hour and eighty bucks.”
“We figured it would come up in conversation. You’re always mentioning him around us,” Isabel said matter-of-factly.
I shot forward in my uncomfortable food court seat. “Do I talk about Caleb too much?” Had I turned into one of those moms? I so didn’t want to have to hate myself.
“Not at all, cutie,” she assured me. “I just thought you’d say some
thing in the first few minutes.”
“It’s not like you’re so chatty about anything else. At least Caleb’s a personal topic you’re willing to talk about.” Caroline picked at the salad she insisted would be a better option than the rest of what she called plastic food at the mall.
I knew my jaw had nudged open, but I couldn’t hide the stupid look. Was she saying I kept things from them? True, I’d only recently decided that they were more than just my “Virginia” friends. Maybe I’d subconsciously been treating them as acquaintances rather than actual friends. “You know, neither of you have been on a first date in a while. How do you know what people talk about?”
Caroline, she of the eight-year relationship, pursed her lips and stabbed a tomato. “We talk to people all the time in our jobs.
It’s not that different. Besides, we used to hear about Lauren, Austy, and Jessie’s dates all the time.” She couldn’t hide the wince as soon as she remembered that I used to be one of Jessie’s dates.
“Well, they’re all married now, so clearly they’re better at dating than I am. I’m not going to pour out my whole life story over dinner.”
“Saying you’ve got a son isn’t exactly your life story.” Isabel, she of the five-year relationship, said before shoving a fry into her mouth. She had one of those metabolisms that could wipe out a fast food menu without gaining an ounce. I, on the other hand, hadn’t had a French fry in three years.
“She wasn’t exactly versed in conversation, Isa. I felt like I was conducting an interrogation, and she was more than happy to continue talking without any duress.”
They both laughed again. I wanted to grab a handful of Isabel’s fries just to keep from having to talk anymore. Shopping with them was excruciating enough since they both believed that you had to try on every single thing before rejecting it and moving on to the next store regardless of what kind of store it was. But they were my friends, and I needed to get out more, especially since I only had one class and no Caleb this summer. Even if I’d rather be with their partners who were at the electronics store playing video games. Shopping wasn’t my thing.