His expression implied that he doubted that was true, but before she could think of some way to make up for her bad manners, he was already on his way down to the podium.
Based on the level of enthusiastic applause, Lilli guessed she was the only student in the room who didn't know who Connor O'Malley was. And the surprises continued to mount with each passing minute.
Dr. O'Malley grabbed everyone's attention with his opening words. "Illegal hooch, primitive dancing, stable economy, flashy cars and loose women. Who can tell me which of those are rarely used to describe 1920s America?"
Lilli barely noticed that she was listening to a theorist. Of course, he shared his educated opinions and deductions, but those and his complex reasoning were cushioned between colorful anecdotes about the Roaring Twenties. Every person in the room seemed caught up in the professor's passion for his subject. Contrary to his claim of being nervous over the large audience, he exuded confidence.
And every female in the room devoured him with their eyes.
Lilli couldn't blame them. He didn't just have an attractive face; he was tall and lean and moved around the open space with a dancer's grace. It didn't hurt that he was a full-grown man with a boyish grin that he effectively used to punctuate the occasional innuendo.
She also noticed that, although he made a point of meeting the eyes of students seated throughout the auditorium, his glance touched on her often enough to have her wondering if he was making sure she didn't slip out.
At the end of the lecture, the teaching assistant announced the hours that evening when Dr. O'Malley would be signing copies of his new book at the Harvard Book Store. Lilli wanted to apologize to him for her unintentional rudeness but when he was immediately swarmed by students, she decided her apology would seem more sincere if she went to the book signing and had him autograph a copy.
Rather than make her way back to the library as planned, Lilli went off campus to her studio apartment. Her plan was to study until it was time to go but her mind kept drifting to the contents of her closet. What did it matter if she wore the jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers she'd had on all day? It wasn't like anyone would notice. Blending in was her choice, not an easy thing to do when you topped five feet eight in bare feet and your family name was Davenport.
Immediately she heard her father's lecture voice. You must never forget, image is just as important as knowledge and accomplishments. Proper attire and grooming tells a client you respect him enough to dress your best when meeting him and it tells an employee that you are the boss, not a coworker.
No amount of rationalizing could ever override the lessons Daddy had taught her. Professor O'Malley wasn't a client or an employee, but she did want to show him the respect he deserved. After a quick shower, she put on a pair of navy-blue dress slacks and a pink cashmere sweater. She even put on her heeled dress boots despite the added height. Usually, she kept her light blonde hair in a knot at the back of her head but she let it hang loose over her shoulders instead. Once she'd gone that far, she added a touch of tinted lipstick and mascara to her pale features.
As she inspected her image in the mirror, she barely recognized herself and was fairly sure none of her classmates or professors would either, which was fine with her.
Shoulders back. Chin up. You're a Davenport, girl. Make us proud. Daddy always knew she needed more of a push than her big brothers when it came to social interactions.
She had to remind herself to stand up straight at least a dozen times before she got to the bookstore. Because of the crowd the professor had attracted for his lecture, Lilli was prepared for a long line of admirers wanting to buy an autographed book... or get a closer look at the sexy author... so she had timed her arrival for the end of the signing session. As it turned out however, at least twenty people were still in line and she had no choice but to join it.
As one person after another glanced in her direction as though she looked familiar but they couldn't quite place her, she was tempted to kick off the boots to keep from being a head taller than most of the people in front of her. Minutes later she was a head taller than everyone in front of her and Professor O'Malley looked up at her.
At first he just glanced in her direction and returned his attention to the person he was signing the book for. As the line inched forward, his gaze paused on her face long enough for his expression to go from polite notice to recognition. The pleased smile he sent her made everyone turn to see who had caused the reaction. If she could have crawled under a table until they'd all left, she would have.
Finally it was her turn and she started to deliver her planned apology but he interrupted her.
"Would you mind letting the two people behind you go first?" he asked quietly, then added, "They were here earlier but had stepped out of line."
That didn't sound like a valid excuse for making her wait but she stepped aside... and kept reminding herself to stand up straight when what she really wanted to do was magically transport back to Crystal Island where no one ever dared tell her to step aside.
"Thank you for coming," the professor said to the last person in line and then turned his infectious grin on Lilli. "I really didn't expect to see you here. I'm honored."
Did he know who she was? She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why would you feel honored?"
A twinkle in his eyes was added to his smile. "Because you really weren't interested in my lecture, but you stuck it out."
Rather than admit he was right or contradict him, she said, "I came here to apologize for being disrespectful. I should have known who you were and politely responded to your questions. My only excuse is that I was totally preoccupied with an upcoming exam. You were surrounded after class so I thought I would come here to apologize. And get one of your books."
He raised one brow. "That's really not necessary."
She picked up a book from the short stack remaining on the table and handed it to him. "Yes, it is. My father is an avid collector of anything about the twenties. This will be a perfect Christmas gift for him. Please make it out to Chester." Lilli couldn't read what the professor wrote in the book but it was several lines long.
"Please tell your father I'd be pleased to hear what he thinks of my theory," he said, handing the book back to Lilli.
"Thank you. I'll pass that on. And again, I apologize." She gave him a timid smile and turned away. She didn't expect a response from him, nor did she expect him to rise and follow her to the cashier.
"I've decided not to accept your apology," he said quietly behind her.
She looked over her shoulder at him. "Excuse me?" She couldn't help but notice that he was still an inch taller than she was. She also noticed that his grin suggested he was teasing, which made her stomach feel strange.
"Maybe, if you'd bought the book for yourself... but you didn't. So, if you want me to believe you're truly sorry, you'll have to buy me a cup of coffee. And give me an honest critique of what you thought of my lecture."
As she pulled out her credit card and handed it to the cashier, Lilli tried to think of a polite excuse to give him but the thought of having those dreamy eyes gazing into hers in such close proximity emptied her brain of coherent thought.
"I saw a place we could go just down the block. Unless you know of a better one."
She signed the receipt, put her card away and picked up her purchase.
"C'mon, take pity on the out-of-towner."
He actually sounded lonely. Considering how many of the female students would have leapt at the chance to keep him company, his being all alone seemed unlikely. But then, maybe he just wanted to talk to someone who wasn't drooling over him... at least not blatantly. "All right. Coffee, but I really do still have studying to do tonight."
As they walked to the nearby coffee house, Lilli remembered how to make small talk. The key was to not look directly at him and pretend he was just another guest at her hotel. "I know you're a professor at the University of Pennsylvania. Are you from Philadelphia originally?"
"No, but close enough. I grew up in Harrisburg, did my bachelor's and master's at Penn State and got my doctorate at UPenn. I was very fortunate to get hired right out of the program."
She nodded in appreciation. "But how did you do it so fast? Were you one of those wonder kids who skip high school and go straight to college?"
He gave her a curious look. "No. It took me the usual time, maybe even a little longer because I had to hold down a job the first couple years."
She frowned. "But you don't look that old—oh, I'm sorry, professor, not my business."
That made him grin again. "Since that almost sounded like a compliment, you needn't apologize. I turned thirty a few months ago but I think I still have some time before the gray hairs start showing. Also, I'm only an associate professor and you're not my student, so please call me Connor. Ah, here we are."
The coffee shop was clearly a popular gathering place but as they entered, a couple vacated two armchairs in a far corner. "Why don't you stake a claim on those chairs while I—"
"Absolutely not," she stated firmly. "The deal was I treat you to coffee. So tell me how you like it and you go squat." He obeyed and she headed for the "Place your order here" sign.
Now that she knew how old the professor was, she could blow away all the silly girl feelings he triggered and have an interesting conversation with a mature adult. In fact, she was now looking forward to that. Once she returned with two hot mugs, the professor excused himself and went to the rest room.
Lilli took the opportunity to read the inscription he'd written to her father:
To Chester, a fellow Roaring Twenties enthusiast, may you always find value in the past. By the way, you have a lovely daughter. Cheers, Connor O'Malley
She felt her cheeks flush over his compliment. It didn't seem appropriate but since she didn't want him to know she'd taken the first opportunity to read what he'd written, she put the book back in the bag.
When the professor returned, his first question to her was just the sort she felt comfortable with.
"So, how much longer have you got to go?"
"If I keep pushing like I have been, I could be done in a little over a year."
"Master's or are you going all the way?"
She rolled her eyes. "Heavens no. Four years is more than enough time in a classroom for me. Once I get my bachelor's, it's straight home and back to work for me."
"You're... a junior?" he asked a bit too carefully.
She watched him lean back in his chair, adding a few extra inches of space between them. "Yes."
"So that would make you... twenty-one?"
She wondered why his tone of voice had changed. "I will be, in February." She smiled and added, "On Valentine's Day."
"Well then, I'd say we're tied. You thought I was younger than I am and I thought you were older."
She shrugged. "My father always said people thought I was older because of my height. But I'm pretty sure it was because I spent all my childhood with adults." She watched him shift in his chair again, and when he spoke, he was no longer being overly careful but neither was he as relaxed as he was when they first walked in.
"You said you'll be going back to work after graduation. What sort of work?"
She chuckled. "I thought you wanted to hear my critique of your lecture."
He nodded. "It helps if I know the basis of your opinion before I hear it."
"That's fair," she said, continuing to smile even though he had turned serious. "But I would rather do it the other way round." She took a breath, straightened her spine and her expression. "I thought you were exceptional, both as a speaker and a scholar. You were passionate, animated and attentive to your audience. You had a great hook, your line was taut and the sinker closed the session with a memorable quote from your book. I walked into that room expecting to be bored and ended up surprised at how quickly the hour had passed. Plus, I learned quite a few new things I'd never considered before. If Michelin ranked academic lectures, they would give you all three of their stars."
He laughed and relaxed a little more. "Would you mind putting all that in writing? My editor could always use a little more convincing of how talented I am. Now let me guess your background based on some of the words you used. Hook, line and sinker is an old phrase; could be because of those adults who had you growing up too fast, or your family's in the fishing industry."
She giggled. "Fishing is a hobby of my father's and we spent a lot of time together. Try again."
"Your bold use of adjectives tells me you might be descended from fiction writers... or professional reviewers. English teachers?"
She made a different face at him for each wrong guess.
"All right. This one has to be the definitive clue—three stars from Michelin, which, by the way, pushed your critique into the sucking-up category, and tells me that you grew up working in the family restaurant."
"Very close. I grew up in a hotel owned by my family. And that's what I'll be going back to after graduation. I'm only here because my father refused to let me step into a management position until I earned a business degree."
He frowned and squinted at her. "Hotel business? The name on your credit card was Lillian... Davenport... and your father's name is Chester..."
"You looked at my credit card?"
"It was sitting on the counter right in front of me. Don't change the subject. Is it a strange coincidence or are you one of the Davenport Hotel heirs?"
That caused her to straighten her spine without needing a reminder. "I don't like the word heir. It suggests I'll be given something valuable that I haven't worked for. But let me tell you, my father not only insisted I get a business degree, but I have to graduate in the top ten percent of the class to inherit anything. All I've been doing for two years is studying to make sure that happens. Besides that, he insisted my brothers and I work in every department of the resort, including grounds maintenance and housekeeping, with no special concessions for who we were. At five years old, when the children of guests were splashing in the pool or playing in the arcade, I was helping the gardeners pick up fallen palm fronds and litter. And at—"
The worried look in his eyes stopped her rant. "Oh dear. I can't believe I just went off on you like that." She took a deep breath. "I don't suppose it will help to apologize again. Or swear I have no idea what made me tell you those things. I never tell anyone personal information. It's a Davenport family rule."
"Never?" he asked, still looking wary.
She shook her head.
"Not even to a girlfriend?" He paused a beat before adding, "Or boyfriend?"
She picked up her coffee mug and took a sip. "My circumstances have never made it easy to have friends, girls or boys, at least not ones I could confide in. Besides, my father always said 'complaining just makes a tough job harder and makes people around you uncomfortable', which is obviously what I did to you. I am sorry. Again."
He raised one brow. "I'm thinking you were lucky to have such a wise father. But what do you say we call a moratorium on you apologizing to me. You didn't make me uncomfortable, just really curious. My life circumstances are so far removed from yours that there's a thousand questions buzzing in my brain. But since my use of one word opened a locked door, I'll silence my curiosity about your personal life. However, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to ask a question about my lecture."
"Of course," she said, relieved to have the conversation back on an impersonal track.
"Because of my field of study, I'm familiar with the name Robert Davenport and his hotel's relevance to the era. Was there anything I mentioned that struck you as incorrect or even different from what you've been told about that time period?"
Lilli wrinkled her nose. "Not that I noticed. But I have to admit, I'm not much of a history buff. Not like my father."
His eyes noticeably brightened and he sat forward. "You said your father was an avid collector. Might he have any memoires or journals from either of his parents?"
&
nbsp; She shrugged. "I really don't know. He never mentioned having anything like that... which is odd now that I think of it. I could ask." His excitement was palpable and she couldn't decide how that made her feel.
"At the risk of pushing another sensitive button, if he does have anything like that, would you also ask if he'd be willing to let me view them, strictly from a scholarly point of interest, of course."
Now she knew how she felt. Disappointed. Somewhere in her girly brain she had imagined this gorgeous man was interested in her. Before she could respond, he spoke again.
"If I were you, I might be wondering if I'd known who you were all along and just insisted we have coffee to give me an opportunity to take advantage of you."
"Well, it is a little—"
"Wrong," he interrupted, holding up a finger. "I swear I had no clue who you were, not even when I saw your credit card. The reason I wanted to spend some time with you is because from the moment you sat next to me in the lecture hall, I was ready to forget about everyone else in that room and what I was there to do. And then you made it clear you had no idea who I was and didn't care to find out, which, of course, only made you more attractive. To be perfectly blunt, you had an immediate physical effect on me, and the last time that happened to me, I was a teenager."
She felt her cheeks flushing and was about to admit that he had affected her as well when he continued.
"But now that I know how young you are, I realize how inappropriate my thoughts were, and I only admitted my reaction to make sure you understand my motives may have been selfish but had nothing to do with you being a Davenport."
Lilli's thoughts seesawed back and forth with each of his sentences. He was instantly attracted to her, but was only interested in her because she hadn't shown interest in him. He considered her a child, but thought her father sounded wise. He was excited about her being a Davenport, but for historical research reasons rather than her wealth or status. Instead of responding to his confession, she took one more sip of her coffee and set the mug down in a way she hoped would indicate an end to their chat.
Some Time Away (Lovers in Time Series, Book 3): Time Travel Romance Page 10
