by Amy Lamont
She went over to her bookshelves and ran a finger along the spines of the books, but nothing captured her interest. Most of the books she kept were ones she’d read until they were dog-eared.
Turning, she looked to see if anything in her room needed cleaning. She remade her bed, but that took all of two minutes. The rest of the room was as neat and orderly as usual.
She sighed and headed into the living room. She'd tidied up before she went to bed, so there was nothing there to do. Not even a pair of Jamie's shoes to put away. That was unusual. Jamie was a slob. They'd come to an agreement early in their roomate-hood. Harper could be as neat as she wanted in her room--or as Jamie put it, anal--and Jamie could be as messy she wanted her her own room. But they needed to find a happy medium in the living room, kitchen and dining area. Harper wasn't allowed to complain if Jamie left a dish or two in the sink overnight before cleaning up in the morning, and Jamie couldn't complain if Harper made sure all the cans in the cupboard lined up neatly with the labels facing out.
Harper's cell phone rang and she jumped and then lunged towards her bedroom to get it. How sad was it that she'd even welcome a phone call from her aunt at this point?
She snatched the phone from the nightstand and answered without bothering to look at caller i.d. "Hello?"
A warm chuckle came through the line. "Everything okay over there?"
Harper sank down onto her bed. "Declan?"
"Who else?"
"Hmm, you might want to check the ego, buddy." She scooted back so she could rest against the pillows stacked against the headboard.
"Are you calling me arrogant, Miss Warden?"
"If the overinflated shoe fits...."
Declan barked out a laugh. "I guess it's a good thing you're here to keep me in check."
"I don't know. That could be a full-time job." She giggled and then shook her head at her own behavior. Who would have suspected she'd be so happy to hear from Declan Cooper? "Was there a reason for the late night call?"
"What are you, ninety?" Declan asked on a chuckle. "It's a little after ten. Please tell me you're not in bed."
"Umm...okay. I won't tell you."
"Seriously, Warden? These are supposed to be your wild, carefree years. You have your whole life to get to bed by 10pm."
Declan's words echoed her earlier thoughts. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Had she ever had a wild, carefree moment in her life? Suddenly, she felt like she was every one of the ninety years he accused her of being.
"So...was there a reason for this call or are you just checking to make sure I'm making the most of my youth?" She tried to hide the heaviness that crept up in her chest, but her voice was lacking the teasing banter it held just a few moments ago.
"Hey," Declan's voice was quiet and concerned, "you okay? You know I was only teasing, right?"
"Sorry." She shook her head in an attempt to shake away the depressing thoughts. "This hasn't been the best day. I guess I'm just tired."
"How could it not be the best day? You got to spend a large part of it with me, and here you are getting a chance to talk to me again." His voice was back to teasing, but this time there was an edge of tenderness underlying his words.
She couldn't help but smile. "There you go again. Do you really need your ego stroked so badly that you're fishing for compliments? And let's not forget, part of the time we spent together today also involved me telling off the professor I was trying to impress."
"Yeah, that was pretty awesome."
She laughed. "Awesome? If me never getting a shot at the mentorship is awesome, then yeah, okay. Awesome."
"Nah. If anything Costa will respect you more for speaking your mind."
"You think?" She wrinkled her nose. "That's what Jamie said, but it's hard to believe he likes being insulted. Not the best way to get into his good graces."
Declan snorted. "I think he’ll respect that more than someone trying to kiss his ass."
"Let's hope so."
A few beats of silence passed and Harper toyed with the edge of her comforter. She wracked her brain for something to say. She'd been enjoying the banter with Declan. It definitely took her mind off of the conversation she'd had with Jamie earlier. But as soon as things get quiet for a second, she's so tongue tied. What the heck was it about this guy?
"Still there?" Declan's voice was husky.
Harper shivered and spoke just as quietly. "I'm still here."
Another beat of silence before she finally thought of something to break it. "So was the point of this phone call just to booster my confidence after I bombed so badly today?"
"No, actually I was calling for another strategy session."
"Ah, you need to pick my brain for ideas for your experiment?"
"No. We have a few days to work on that. I figured since Costa gave me a yes on my thing today, we needed to do some more work on your thing."
"Oh." She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth until a smile breaks the connection. "I thought maybe you'd given up on me."
"No way. We're in this together. Plus, I have an idea."
"Um, your ideas don't seem to be working out for me too well so far."
"Oh, ye of little faith." Declan made a tsking sound that sent Harper into giggles.
"Okay. Lay it on me, Declan. What brilliant idea do you have for me next?"
"Faculty luncheon."
"Hmm. Lunch. That's your big idea?"
"Har, har, Warden. You're focusing on the wrong part. The big idea is the faculty part." A rustling comes from his end of the line.
Was he in bed, too? She couldn't quite bring herself to ask. "Okay, so faculty luncheon. I'm going to need more to work with here."
"My dad had agreed to go to a faculty luncheon tomorrow. It's supposed to be some kind of fundraiser. At the last minute he found out he can't get away to make it up here so he asked me to go in his place."
Something about Declan's tone made Harper think he wasn't too thrilled about this turn of events. "Does that happen a lot?"
"Enough. But this time I figured we could use it to your advantage."
"And how is a faculty luncheon to my advantage?" She wrinkled her nose. Just the words "faculty luncheon" sent a cold chill up her spine. Not her usual favorite outing.
"Well, glad you asked. It just so happens, the faculty at this particular function is mostly from the Health and Sciences Department. I thought you might enjoy the opportunity to schmooze with some of the people whose good graces you're trying to get into."
Harper shuddered. "Enjoy might be pushing it a little. Though I do see what you're getting at here."
"Honestly," Declan said, "these aren't too bad. I've had to go to a bunch. The food's usually halfway decent. You get to talk to your professors in a way you don't normally get to in class."
"And that's a good thing?" Her stomach churned at the idea of having to make small talk with her professors.
"It is. Why do you think Professor Costa is willing to let me make up my grades?"
"I figured it was because your family contributes beaucoup bucks to the university so the professors would dance like puppets on a string if you asked them to." Holy. Crap. Harper's hand flew to cover her mouth.
"Uh, not quite."
She pulled her hand down. Had she offended him? "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that."
"No, it's okay. I guess most people think like that."
He chuckled but it sounded forced to Harper.
"No, I don't think most people think that. I'm just an idiot," she said.
"Hey, don't worry about it."
Again, silence took over the phone waves. She finally broke it with her voice soft. "I'm so sorry, Declan. I'm just being petty because I'm nervous and frustrated."
She couldn't believe she just shared that with him. She made it a habit never to show her weaknesses. To anyone. And in the last few days, she'd all but rolled over and exposed her belly to Declan. But if that's what it took to make up for the very unk
ind words she'd spoken, especially when all he was trying to do was help her, then it was worth it.
"Why are you nervous and frustrated?" His voice matched hers in its softness.
"Faculty luncheons aren't really my thing. I have no idea what to wear, how to act..." She sank down in her bed and pulled the comforter up to her chin. She clenched her hand around her phone to keep from hitting the button that would put an end to this now mortifying phone call.
"They're really no big deal. Wear something not too casual, not too dressy. Go eat, make small talk. We'll only be there for an hour or so. You'll do fine."
She did a mental search of her closet. Did she have anything not too dressy, not too casual? Hangers full of jeans, funky t-shirts, and hoodies filled her closet. Normally she'd go to Jamie with wardrobe questions. Her roommate gave new meaning to the word fashionista. But Jamie might not want to help with her wardrobe selection considering she wasn't really on board with the whole plan with Declan to begin with.
She'd exposed enough of herself, though. No way was she going to tell Declan she had no clue if anything in her closet was appropriate.
Her mind raced for a minute as she tried to find a hole in Declan's plan. She sighed when she couldn't think of one reason--other than her lacking wardrobe and poor social skills, things she would not ever share with Declan--not to give the faculty luncheon a try.
"Fine," she huffed out. "When and where is this faculty torture, um, I mean, luncheon thing?"
Declan chuckled. "I knew you'd see the brilliance of my plan."
"Brilliance, right. I guess we'll see if this plan goes as brilliantly as your last."
Chapter 5
Why had she agreed to this? Harper stood on the path leading to the administration building. She was all wrong. From her hair bouncing around her shoulders to the blue floral dress and right down to the strappy too-high heels and pink-tipped toes. Just wrong. She tugged at the waist of the dress wishing for three or four more inches of fabric.
But that's what happened when you wear someone else's clothes. She glanced at her dress and smoothed a hand down the front, pressing against it to keep it from floating on the breeze. She couldn't even imagine how short this dress was on Jamie who had about three inches on her. At least the little jacket offered some coverage. Not that it did much good in warding off the chill of the fall air.
"Stop fidgeting."
She turned to find Declan strolling up the path behind her.
"I'm not fidgeting," she snapped back.
He laughed. As he reached her, he snagged the hand she was using to tug one side of the jacket more firmly over her front and kept hold of it. She huffed out a breath.
His gaze traveled down her body and his lips turned down slightly in each corner. "You look great."
She snatched her hand back from him and plunked both hands on her hips. "I look so good, you can't help but frown at me?"
His eyes jumped up to meet hers. "No! What? I mean, you do look good."
He rubbed a hand over his short hair, tousling it in a way that only made him more attractive. If she'd done that she'd look like she'd spent the afternoon wrestling grizzlies. As it was, she prayed the hair spray she'd doused over her head was strong enough to keep her hair from dancing in an unruly mess around her head. She hated wearing her hair down, especially when she was spending time outside. Even a light breeze could turn her into the runner up in a Medusa look alike contest.
"Mmmhmm." She wasn't buying his compliments. The look on his face told her all she needed to know--she was going to stand out like a sore thumb at this faculty luncheon.
"Seriously." Declan's eyes raked over her once more, coming back up to linger on the hair stirring around her shoulders before climbing all the way up to meet her gaze. "You look beautiful."
Her eyes narrowed on him.
"I swear." He held up a hand with fingers pointed up, totally ruining the scout's pledge. "You look great. You just don't look like...yourself."
"So, what? Usually I don't look great?" She tapped a toe on the cobblestone path.
"No! No. I just meant..." He gestured wordlessly at her.
If she wasn't mistaken, that was pink beginning to tinge his cheeks. She grinned. Maybe raiding Jamie's closet and parading herself around the faculty to-do was going to be well worth the effort.
"You meant...?" she prompted.
He let out a long breath and took a step closer. He stared into her eyes. "You always look good, Harper. I like the way you dress. The way you wear your hair. All of it."
Was there any air here? She'd swear on a stack of Biology textbooks that someone had sucked every molecule of it from around her.
"You look good now, too." He inched even closer to her. "I just like it best when you look like yourself."
"Oh," she managed to squeak out.
He grabbed her hand and gave it a small tug. He grinned, his usual smirkingly arrogant expression now firmly back in place. "Should we go?"
She glanced over her shoulder toward the gate in front of the admin building. Who knew the gates of hell could be so pretty? She blew out a breath and turned back to face him. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
He pulled her down the path, giving her hand a little squeeze. "It won't be so bad. I promise."
"And do I get to collect a forfeit if it turns out you’re lying?"
"What?" His question escaped him on a chuckle.
"A forfeit. I think you'll owe me if this turns out to be the epic fail I'm foreseeing."
He stopped them just outside the gate. "What do you want if this totally sucks?”
Several scenarios raced through her mind and her cheeks warmed. She wasn't going to share even one of those ideas with him.
Her eyes skittered up. "I can't think of anything right now. Let's just say I reserve the right to collect a favor at the time of my choosing if this bites."
His eyes warmed and she had a niggling feeling he could read every lascivious thought that slid through her mind. His lips twitched, but he didn't call her on it. "I'll agree to that."
She opened her mouth to accept but he cut her off.
"Wait. I'm not done. I'll agree to that, if and only if you agree that you'll owe me a forfeit if the luncheon goes well."
She chewed her bottom lip as she looked up at him.
He reached up and smoothed a finger over her lips, stopping her gnawing before she did any damage. "Seems only fair to me."
"What..” She paused to clear her throat. "What kind of forfeit?"
His grin turned devilish. "Let's just say I reserve the same right as you--to collect a...favor...at another time of my choosing."
She managed to nod her agreement. Now she didn't know if she should hope the luncheon totally sucked or totally rocked.
She stumbled a little as he tugged her forward. Her gaze dropped to her feet.
Hey, look at that. Turns out the road to hell is paved in cobblestone.
So would this be a draw?
Harper stood in a corner of the large room, a small china plate in her hands. After the first fifteen minutes, she'd have sworn Declan was going to win their little bet. They'd walked into the luncheon together, her hand clasped in his. That left her with only one free hand to tug at her dress, but she'd stopped that when he gave her a sharp look along with a firm squeeze of her hand. He'd pulled her right over to a group just inside the entrance.
Nerves had twisted her stomach in knots, but with his usual relaxed manner, Declan had introduced her to one of the professors from the English department. He'd made a joke and had the other man laughing in under a minute, and then they stood there making small talk. Declan lead the way, but he made sure to include Harper in the conversation. Before she knew it, her nerves had slipped away, and she found herself chuckling at one of Declan's quick-witted quips.
The next fifteen minutes brought more of the same. Declan tugged her from one small group of chatting faculty to another, keeping her involved in the conve
rsation, but never putting her on the spot. It helped that he didn't immediately approach any of the faculty from the science department, but as she got more comfortable, she even felt ready to face Professor Costa.
But her comfort level quickly changed when she and Declan were approached by the Dean of Students. Or she should say, Declan was approached. It was obvious within seconds that the man had no interest in her or her presence at the party. He'd been strictly interested in kissing Declan's ass.
He'd fawned over Declan, mentioning at least half a dozen times how sorry they were his dad hadn't been able to make it to the party. The dean assured him they completely understood and were happy Declan could make it. Then the dean asked him to step over to a small gazebo-like structure set up in the corner, gesturing to a photographer waiting with camera in hand.
The butterflies had started flapping again in her stomach at the thought of posing for pictures at Declan's side. That was sure to do wonders for her gold-digger reputation if it showed up in the student paper.
But apparently, her fears were unfounded. Declan's gaze had followed the direction the dean was pointing and his lips twisted into a grimace. He glanced down at Harper, and for a second or two he looked uncomfortable. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what had changed in his expression, but he definitely wasn't wearing his usual snarky smirk.
She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows as her mind scrambled for an excuse to step away while he had his picture taken. But before she could latch onto anything, Declan gave her one.
"This should only take a few minutes. Why don't you go check out the food? I'll meet you back over there." He gestured vaguely in the direction opposite the gazebo where two tables with long white table clothes had been set with china plates, silverware, linen napkins and what looked to be an impressive buffet.
A second ago she'd been dying for an excuse, but Declan's obvious desire to get rid of her before, God forbid, he get caught with her in a photo made her change her mind. She'd wanted to drag her feet and suddenly scrambled for a reason to stay right by his side.
