“Sara. I can’t.”
Sara turned, pushing past him toward the doors. “Whatever.”
“I’ll see you at the institute,” Carey called after her.
Ignoring him, she let the heavy doors drop behind her and wondered how she would tell Martha and Larry there would be no classes this year. Hurrying to her next class, Sara pushed back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She knew Carey wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was she felt like she was disappointing everyone right now—especially her father. His doctor had given him a couple of months to live. And she was here—instead of there.
Walking faster, she tried not to think about her oldest brother, James’s accusation, that school was her way of running away from it all. Rounding the corner into the business building, she didn’t see anybody standing there until it was too late.
“Excuse me,” he said it like she was the most annoying thing he’d ever encountered.
“Well, if you’d watch . . .” Sara looked up at him, trying to place where she’d seen him before. His blonde hair was windblown and his black sunglasses were dark.
“You.” His voice was final, like he’d been expecting her somehow.
Chapter 7
Then it all came back to her—that day at the airport. She looked down at shiny, black cowboy boots. Sara didn’t know why the insides of her stomach went gooey. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He folded his arms and smiled. “I guess it’s your lucky day.”
Sara couldn’t believe he was standing there. His smile disarmed her. “What are you doing here?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Well . . . I never got a thank you card.”
Taken off guard, Sara laughed.
He shrugged. “I grew up here. I have a friend in the business department, and he invited me to teach a couple of courses this year. I figured why not give students my wisdom and clarity?” He looked her up and down. “I assume you go to school here.”
She ran down the hall to her class. “Wow—you’re good.”
**
The institute was packed. It seemed like every student in the three student wards were at the opening social. Sara walked in with her best friend Genova and Genova’s boyfriend, Kevin.
Carey walked over and took Sara’s hand. His voice was sultry, and he twirled her into a dance move. “I’ve been waiting too long for you.”
Sara pulled her hand away and glared at him. He would not come back into her good graces so easily.
“C’mon, Sara, don’t do that.”
Genova glared at him. “What did you do, Carey?”
Sara smiled at her loyal friend. Genova had never cared for Carey anyway, always calling him a player.
Sara put her hand into the air in a stopping gesture. “I just didn’t realize how selfish you are.”
Carey sighed. “What do you want me to do, Sara?”
Sara stuck her chin in the air but didn’t look at him. “I want you to help me teach dance lessons to those two cute, old people that look forward to it.”
Carey didn’t budge.
Sara began to walk away from him. “Ya know this is a perfect place to find someone else to help me.”
Carey unfolded his arms, lifting his hands into the air. “All right.”
“What?”
His expression was intense. “I said all right. Can we dance already?” He put his hand out.
Sara smiled, reveling in the fact that Martha and Larry wouldn’t be disappointed. She put her hand in his and felt him pull her into some fast, complicated dance moves.
Sara laughed and joked. “Carey, I could be Bella Swan in your arms.”
“Don’t insult me,” he said, picking her up and swinging her over his head into another move. “I’m way better than Edward . . . more of a Jacob.” He pulled her closely to him and put his cheek against hers as they fell into an easy step.
Sara snuggled into Carey’s shoulder. This was how it was between them. He was a fabulous dancer and made her laugh like crazy, but he was waiting for Sue, and she was waiting for Jonathon. It worked perfectly for them.
“So who were you talking about in your article?”
Sara smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Twirling her out and into a circle, she felt herself become free—for an instant. Dancing did that for her. Carey rolled her back into his arms and the song ended. Their breath mingled and Carey whispered, “You’re so beautiful tonight.”
Pulling away from him, Sara smacked his shoulder. He was always messing around with her.
“Seriously, what did you mean when you said,” he cleared his throat, “love is like dancing with a good partner. If you pick the right one, you’ll never get bored and you’ll look forward to dancing into eternity.”
Sara didn’t like the pensive look on Carey’s face and started walking back to where Genova and Kevin were sitting. She let go of his hand and turned away from him, scanning the room. “Um, I don’t know. It’s my job to say that stuff.”
Carey stepped in front of her, forcing her gaze on him. “I think there might be something hidden in your message.”
Sara scoffed at his flirtations, hating the fact they were starting to make her uncomfortable. Looking from Carey to Genova, she announced, “I’ll be right back, I’m getting some water.”
She maneuvered through the maze of people to the mound of water and assorted cookies spread across the table. Opening a bottle, she guzzled it back, leaning against the wall.
Surveying the dance floor, she waved at some friends she’d gotten to know at the institute from previous years, noticing some of the new groups of freshman hovering in foyer and hall. She loved the institute and the closeness that came with it. Leaning over to grab a cookie, she touched hands with someone and looked up.
His pale blue eyes smiled at her. Wearing a black, collared shirt and dark blue jeans, his blonde hair looked even whiter with the Christmas style lights strung above them.
“I guess you thought you’d made your great escape earlier today.”
For some reason her heart picked up speed, and she wanted to tease him about earlier—when he’d obviously thought she’d forgotten his name. “And you are?”
Moving beside her, Beau smiled and leaned back against the wall. “How soon your gratitude wanes.”
Sara laughed. “Obviously I’m just lucky to run into you twice in the same day.”
A new slow song started, without asking, Beau grabbed her hand and started pulling her out onto the floor. “Obviously.”
Sara fell into step with him. “You know, a guy usually asks a girl if she wants to dance. I’m sure you’ve probably dated since the days a guy just clonked a girl over the head with a club, but I thought I’d let you know.”
He pulled her closer to him. His cologne was light, and it wafted through her as he turned her out for a spin. “Sometimes a man just knows when a woman wants to dance with him.”
Beau started into some steps she didn’t know and found herself having to pay attention to keep up with him. “You’re not bad.”
Beau took her through a series of movements and then jerked her firmly against him, spinning them both. “Have you already Dear Johned your missionary?”
Her head started to spin, and Beau slowed down, back to a simple two step. “What?”
He smiled and averted his eyes for a split second to Carey then back to her.
Sara looked at Genova as they danced by, giving her the ‘who is that’ look. “I’m still waiting for him.”
His smile widened. “Let’s see, he should be back soon?”
Sara gave him a patronizing smile. “Thirty-one days. But who’s counting?” Beau looked over at Carey, who now stood next to Genova and looked at them both with brooding eyes. “And who is that?”
Carey was giving them both a very authoritative parental look.
Sara stifled a laugh. “Oh, we took a dance class together. He’s waiting for a miss
ionary, too. We’re safe together.”
“Hmm.” He said it like he didn’t agree with her.
“What?”
Sara felt Beau’s breath softly in her ear. He spun her out and back. “Is that what he’s telling you?”
She looked away from him. “He doesn’t have to say anything.”
“Well, it’s lucky for you that I showed up tonight because he’s looking kind of unsafe at the moment. Maybe dancing with him is a good reminder that you want to date lots of guys. You’re supposed to date lots of guys, right? So when he gets back you know he’s the perfect one.”
Chapter 8
Sara shook her head in amazement. “And, isn’t it interesting that you seem to remember our conversation with such clarity?”
Spinning her out—he took her with his other hand, slipping her behind his back. “Hmm.”
Sara sighed. “You’ve already used the ‘hmm’ comeback.”
He exhaled and twirled her again. “I didn’t know there was a limit, but I will remember that the next time I talk with you. I suspect you dance a lot with Carey at these things.”
Sara noted the distaste in his tone and didn’t like the fact she felt like she had to defend herself to him. “Carey’s a good friend. He’s fun to dance with, that’s all.”
Beau shrugged. “Does Jonathon know about him?”
Sara squinted at him. “Isn’t it interesting that you remember Jonathon’s name?”
Beau ignored her comment. “Have you dated enough guys yet?”
She felt her cheeks flushing. “I’m working on it.”
“So you only have one month left, huh? One month until your five-year plan gets another check mark.”
Sara nodded, annoyance pulsing through her. “I guess so.”
“You know he’s the best?”
He was mocking her. She gave him another rude face. “He was always the best. Better than someone like you.”
Beau stopped dancing but stayed right next to her. “Sweetheart, don’t mistake sympathy for interest. I was helping you out two years ago, and I’m just trying to help you out now.”
Sara stared at him for a second, wondering how the conversation had turned out like this. “Well, it doesn’t feel like help.”
Beau scoffed. “You’re not in love with him. You knew him what—two months?” “You’re in love with the idea of him. The thing you’ve built up in your mind.”
The fears she’d been carefully building a wall against, Beau now shoved out into the open. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Beau shrugged, still staring at her. “You know Jonathon about as well as you know me.”
She held his gaze. “No, I love Jonathon.”
Beau was calm. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. Is this the only pool you’ve been looking in the last two years? Cause I have to tell ya, it’s not that impressive.”
She folded her arms, now utterly enraged. “Jonathon could swim circles around everyone in this room.”
Beau paused for a minute and then looked behind her, shaking his head and turning away. “Looks like you better get back to swimming, the safe one is coming for you.”
Sara watched him walk out of the gym doors. She wondered how, in one dance, he could disrupt the certainty she’d held so tightly around her for the past two years.
**
Her entrepreneurship class was, apparently, a bigger deal than she’d thought it would be. Students crowded the front of the class, waiting in line to talk to the instructor. Sara filed through, taking a seat next to Linda, an acquaintance from the institute. “Hey.”
“Are you good at this type of stuff?” Linda’s eyes were glued to the paper syllabus.
Sara pulled out her laptop, unwinding her cords and looking for a plug in. “It can’t be that hard, right? Start a business and stuff.”
Linda was the snow white of the institute and all the guys seemed to run to her side with a tissue if she sneezed. Sara liked her but wondered how in the world she’d made it through their first two years of college. Linda twirled her long, black hair and looked like she already knew she would be dropping the class. “Formulating a business plan sounds hard.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Sara picked up the sheet of paper in front of her, zeroing in on the major class projects that she’d be required to do with a partner. There was only one, and a partner was optional. She felt relieved. She liked to have control over the whole project she was working on and usually ended up shouldering most of the burden of a team thing anyway.
“Wow,” Linda said, her jaw dropping, “now he’s a good looking professor.”
Beau walked into the classroom, shiny boots and all, with the Dean at his heels. He smiled broadly and put his things on the table in front of him.
Sara felt all of the energy go out of her and crouched down behind her laptop.
Linda turned to her in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?”
She angled her head and whispered to Linda, “What do you think the chances are that I can walk out of the class and not be noticed by the teacher?”
Linda frowned. “None. That door back there has an alarm on it. You’re stuck until the end of class.”
Sara put her head up, wondering if Beau had noticed her in the sea of students. Beau had a smile plastered on his face, and Sara noticed he looked a tad embarrassed, shaking hands with the students that were clamoring for his attention.
Beau picked up the microphone. “Good Morning. I’m so glad you’re all so excited about this class, and I want to meet each of you personally, but we have to get started. Please find a seat.”
The classroom was quiet in an instant. Beau smiled, again, and Sara realized that his smile was appealing when it wasn’t used to mock her. He waited for people to get settled and then spoke into the microphone. “This is Entreprenuership 340. I’m Beau Hennings—.”
There was a rumble that went through the classroom. A student yelled out from the corner. “Like we don’t know who you are.”
Linda looked at Sara with panic in her eyes. “Should we know who he is?”
Sara shrugged, feeling semi-panicked herself. Beau smiled and put up his hand to quiet them down again. It was like watching an infomercial with the main guy and the audience in on some secret.
“Okay. Well, I’m so happy to be with you all. I’m excited for the opportunity this class presents to really help you learn the basics of starting a business—and,” he said, flashing a brilliant smile, “the opportunity to make money.” The class actually started clapping.
Sara looked around and felt as if she had entered the twilight zone.
“So we’re going to start right off with the first rule of business: building relationships of trust. I want you to turn to the person closest to you and get to know them. Find out where they’re from, what they like to do, and try to decipher what values you might have in common. This is how you begin the process of selling something—you find out what they want and what they need. So, go on, get to know each other for the next fifteen minutes.”
Sara couldn’t believe this was happening. She turned to Linda, who was already engaged in a flirtation with the guy sitting on the other side of her. She turned to the other side, and noticed a grunge-looking guy with headphones in one ear and the other one hanging out. He nodded at her while still banging his head, intent on the music he was listening to. “Sup,” he said, half-smiling and air drumming on the side of her.
Sara gave him a forced smile, pulling up a class description online. The bio sheet on Beau was lengthy. She read about his journey from small town boy to dot com millionaire. How he’d worked at a pizza joint and on his uncle’s ranch until he was eighteen, when he purchased his first two townhomes in Laramie. Then he served a mission for the Church, and when he came back, he leveraged and bought more real estate in Laramie and Provo, Utah. Then, he went on to develop some web-based business called Smokin Deals dot com. He helped college students find the best rates
for their books. And now he had many ‘joint ventures’ in web design, real-estate, and other various endeavors.
Sara’s head was going to explode with frustration. She looked down at Beau, noticing he was talking with some of the students on the side of the room, opposite of the door. How hard it would be to escape without being noticed?
“So what’s your name?” Grunge boy popped the other earphone out of his ear and swiveled his chair to her.
Sara reluctantly swiveled to face him. “Um, Sara. Sara Fairbanks.”
“You got it bad for him, huh?” He scooted closer to her and nodded to Beau.
“What?”
“It’s all over your face.” He pushed a school newspaper toward her. “You should check out what Beatrice has to say about how to make a move on a man. She has great advice.”
“What’s all over my face?” Sara couldn’t even focus on the unknowing compliment.
Grunge boy looked her up and down appraisingly. “Seriously, Beatrice knows what she’s talking about—you should read it.”
Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t think her advice is that good—plus, I don’t even know him.” She felt herself blushing and hated it.
Grunge boy’s eyes lit up and his whole face looked more wholesome. “Whatever, do you want to come see my band play Saturday night?”
Sara couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him. “What was your name?”
“Oh, right. Rob. Rob Joyman. I don’t think it’s going to be my stage name. But I haven’t changed it yet. What do you think of Duke? Is it a good stage name? I thought about Ty, but I think it might be overused, too close to Tom, you know Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks . . .”
“Right, I think Duke has more potential for sure. And, it sounds more royal.” She smiled, thinking that this whole day was starting off like some insane dream.
Rob smiled, like they were speaking the same language. “Exactly.”
Sara laughed at the absurdity of this conversation, feeling lighter.
“I can see things are going well here.” Beau was standing behind them in the row.
“Dude, you scared me.” Rob jumped a little in his chair.
Mr. Wrong Page 3
