Westerbrook puffed out his cheeks. “Routine matters. Kruger said he relied heavily on your recommendations.” He grasped the doorknob as if wanting to escape. “What if I authorize giving you the title of interim dean? It’ll look impressive on your résumé.”
Sherry trailed him to the door. “Do I need a résumé?”
“No, of course not,” he blustered. “But I assumed that since you’d put in for one administrative post, you’d naturally try for another.”
Sherry crossed her arms. “Tell Sheldon March not to get his hopes up. Every college needs a watchdog. I think I’m rather good at it.”
“Um...yes. So you’ll oversee the department’s opening weeks?”
“Lock will owe me big time, but yes, I’ll do it.” She sounded reluctant but inside she jumped for joy. She and Kruger had always fought bitterly over his dropping classes from the schedule too early. This was one semester they’d be safe.
Still humming happily on the drive home, Sherry had barely cleared the door to her town house and kicked off her shoes when her phone rang. It was Garrett Lock.
“I’m looking at a registration printout,” he said without identifying himself. Not that he had to. Sherry would have known that drawl anywhere. “I see two classes with low enrollment. If there’s no change by tomorrow, cancel them.”
“Where are you? How did you get a printout?”
He chuckled. “I’m in Huntsville. I had the college computer guru link my laptop to the administrative computer program before I left today. You didn’t think I’d shirk my duties, did you?”
That was exactly what she’d thought. So the title of interim dean didn’t mean diddly. A figurehead. That was all they wanted. A warm body to take the flak from disgruntled students. She felt her temper sizzle on a short fuse.
“Hello! Are you there?” he asked loudly.
“Cancel them yourself. You don’t need me if you have access to enrollment.”
There were shouts in the background, then muffled mumbling. “Sorry.” He came back on the line. “What was that you said? Things are squirrelly here. Movers are trying to give me an estimate and my son locked them out of his room.”
Sherry thought he did sound harried. The busier, the better. “You must have a million and one things to do,” she soothed. “Leave this kind of stuff in my hands, okay.”
There was silence except for the hum of the wire, as if he was weighing her suggestion.
“You can trust me.” Sherry injected enough indignation in her tone to push his guilt buttons.
“All right, but keep me posted.” He reeled off his email address.
She scribbled it down, never intending to use it.
They rang off. She’d no more than hung up when the phone jingled again. This time it was her mother, inviting her to a family barbecue. “Saturday night. To celebrate your birthday, dear.”
“Don’t, Mom. I’m acting dean until Dr. Lock completes his move. I’ll probably have to work Saturday.” Her family meant well, but on each successive birthday, more was made of her single status. She didn’t need that this year, what with losing out on the promotion and with Nolan so sappy in love. Talk was bound to turn toward weddings. In fact, she’d be willing to guarantee it.
“Nonsense,” Nan Campbell chided. “You shouldn’t work as late as seven, and you have to eat. Dad’s lighting the barbecue at six-forty-five. Be here.” Sherry found herself staring at a buzzing receiver.
The jarring reminder that she faced turning thirty-two in a few days left her feeling melancholy. It didn’t help that in the day’s mail were two invitations to wedding showers for Emily and Nolan. Sherry went into the kitchen and threw herself into a cooking frenzy. After dirtying half the pans in the cupboard making chicken cordon bleu for one, she set the table with her grandmother’s fine china, lit a taper and poured a glass of wine.
She was perfectly happy being single. A woman didn’t need a man to enjoy a romantic dinner. It was just random bad luck that the songs she’d slipped into the CD player were all about everlasting love.
Sherry picked at her food. In a fit of feeling sorry for herself, she wished she’d gone out more with friends. If she had, on evenings such as this she’d feel free to drop by the pub where the old crowd tended to hang out.
What was wrong with her? For crying out loud, she was a psychologist. She was a woman in her prime. There wasn’t a reason in the world for her to feel as if life had passed her by. No reason at all.
* * *
AT WORK THE NEXT DAY, Garrett Lock phoned her four times.
Five times the day after. More on Friday.
By Saturday Sherry viewed the prospective party at her parents’ home as an escape from his infuriating meddling in every decision she made.
Emily met Sherry at the door and engulfed her in a hug. Megan and Mark, age fourteen and twelve respectively, Emily’s two kids from her previous marriage, blindfolded Sherry the minute their mom returned to the kitchen.
Calling her Auntie Sherry, the kids led her to a stack of presents. Amid boisterous shouts, they instructed her to guess what was in each package. Sherry had developed a soft spot for these two. Although Megan had started the wagon-train journey as a trial, she’d turned out to be quite a plucky young woman by the end of summer.
“Hey, you guys, I’ve never been an aunt. I think I’m going to like it.” Sherry poked and prodded the many gifts. “It means more packages to open,” she teased.
“You rascals,” Emily scolded her two. “Untie that scarf and let Sherry see. I think Megan hid a box under the couch that she hoped you’d miss.”
As the blindfold came off, Sherry noticed Megan’s blush. “Isn’t that always the way?” Sherry said gently. “We buy other people what we’re dying to have ourselves.”
“It’s not so much that I want what we bought you as I want something new. Everyone here is so busy with wedding stuff Mark and I haven’t shopped for school clothes. We start our new schools next week.”
Nolan, who’d come in from the patio, shot a worried glance at his bride-to-be. “Emily, maybe you and Mom should take a day off. Clothes are important to kids starting a new school. If it’s a matter of money—”
“It’s not,” Emily rushed in. She gazed helplessly at her future mother-in-law.
Nan turned to her son. “Nolan, you’re the one insisting on a big church wedding. These things take time. I’m afraid we don’t have a free minute next week.”
Sherry was moved by the kids’ long faces. And if she spent another interminable week at the beck and call of Garrett Lock, she’d probably go berserk. “Tell you what, guys, any aunt worth her salt would rescue you. How about if I take you both to the mall next Saturday? All day. We’ll grab hamburgers or a pizza and do the concert in the park that evening.” She named a well-known rock group scheduled to perform.
Megan and Mark shouted with glee.
Emily bit her lip. “Sherry, are you sure? Nan said your job—”
“Positive,” Sherry broke in. “Mom and Dad think I’m working too hard. Besides, the new dean needs to get rid of the notion that I’m his flunky.”
“How are you and Garrett getting on?” Nolan asked casually.
“Swell.” She made a face and picked up one of the gifts. “He hasn’t even been in the office and already I feel like his personal gofer. Do this, do that. He’s good at barking orders.”
“Give the guy a break. Among other things, he’s having trouble finding a place to live.”
“Really? On his salary I shouldn’t think it’d be a problem.” Sherry did the fake violin thing, and the kids laughed.
Nolan silenced their antics. “Garrett called in a panic yesterday and asked me to keep an eye out for houses for sale or rent. He’d like three bedrooms and a yard.”
“Tell hi
m to call a Realtor.” Sherry’s conscience niggled as she recalled the corner town house in her complex; just today the owner had posted a sign for sale or lease. It had three bedrooms and a nice backyard. Also a loft bedroom with a city view. But it was much too close to where she lived. From porch to porch, less than a hundred yards.
Sherry pretended interest in folding the paper she’d removed from the gift, which turned out to be a CD carrying case from Mark. Thankfully her terse response motivated a change of subject. Garrett Lock’s name didn’t come up again all evening. Sherry actually relaxed and enjoyed herself. She even let them ensnare her in the wedding plans. Before she left, she caved in and agreed to be Emily’s maid of honor. Something about weddings was infectious.
By the end of the week following her birthday bash, Sherry was ready to wring Lock’s neck. If she talked to him once a day, she talked to him fifty times.
Five o’clock, Friday night, she fumed into the telephone, “You’re being unreasonable. I have ten students on a degree track who need that class. If they don’t get it this semester, they’ll have to delay graduation until summer. Six of them won’t qualify for grant money if they extend.”
“The rules are clear,” Garrett said, equally exasperated. “It takes twelve students for the class to run. Find two more students.”
“I can’t,” she wailed. “Cut me some slack here, Lock. The money isn’t coming out of your pocket.”
“Technically it is. Or it soon will be when I become a home owner/taxpayer. The best I can do is hold off another day. Phone me names and social security numbers of two students by six tomorrow night, and I’ll punch them into the system myself.”
She thought of her proposed shopping trip with Emily’s kids. “I can’t tomorrow. My...my mom is sick and I’m needed at home,” she said on impulse. “I’ll do it Sunday. Will you give me two days?” Sherry felt guilty for lying. But he’d already run her ragged today. Her back ached. Her eyes burned. She was dead on her feet. She couldn’t stay late. To find students to fill a class meant tedious hours at the computer going through individual class schedules of everyone in her program.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. Nothing serious, I hope.”
“Flu,” she mumbled, feeling the flush of guilt warm her neck and cheeks.
He waited a heartbeat. “All right. Two days. Give me your folks’ phone number. Since I’m not sure if I’ll be at the hotel or if the Realtor’s going to find me something, I’ll call you.”
“Use my number. I’ll access my machine. Their phone’s unlisted,” she said lamely, wishing she could take everything back. One fabrication only seemed to beget another.
“All right. Good luck, Sherilyn. For the record, I dislike putting a hardship on students as much as you do.” He clicked off, leaving her with mushy insides because of the soft way he drawled her name. And leaving her feeling embarrassed and ashamed because of the ease with which he’d accepted her lie.
“‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, / when first we practice to deceive,’” she muttered, vowing this was the last time she’d go out on a limb like this.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHERRY RECALLED THAT very quote when at ten sharp on Saturday, she and the kids elbowed their way up to a jeans sale table at the mall and she found herself facing none other than Garrett Lock.
Nobody deserves such rotten luck. Nobody.
Garrett recovered first from the shock of seeing her. “Either this sale is a sleeper and worth more than it looks or your mom underwent a miraculous recovery.”
“I, ah, she...is better, thank you. Come on, kids, let’s check other stores to compare prices.” If ever Sherry wanted to sink through the floor and disappear, it was now.
Megan glanced with interest at the man talking with her soon-to-be aunt. Then in the blunt way of teens, she said, “I didn’t know Gram was sick. She looked okay to me when she and Mom left to see the florist this morning.”
Sherry dropped the jeans she’d been inspecting. She stared in horror at Megan. Now she was truly nailed.
The girl flung the pair of jeans she held onto the table. Eyes defiant, she pushed her brother toward the door. “Your mom said for us to call her Gram, didn’t she, Mark?” The statement was carelessly thrown at Sherry.
“Oh, Megan, I’m upset with myself, not you. Never tell even a tiny white lie,” she groaned. “They have a way of backfiring. Kids, I’d like you to meet Dr. Lock, my boss at the college. I told him Mom had the flu so I could skip work today and bring you shopping.” Her story emerged in nervous spurts.
Garrett smiled at the kids. “I’d have known you anywhere from Nolan’s description. He brags on you shamelessly. So? Are you all shopping for school? My son and I are, too. Keith? Where’d he go?” Garrett searched the aisles, then stepped back, practically trampling a small blond boy.
Sherry’s heart went out to the child, whose huge blue eyes were framed by thick dark lashes most girls would kill to have. He seemed awkward, as if he hadn’t grown into his feet. Or frightened, the way he stared at his sneakers, barely mumbling hello in response to Mark and Megan’s greeting. Garrett Lock was so outgoing his son’s shyness struck a sympathetic chord in Sherry.
Her imagination kicked into overdrive as Garrett tried unsuccessfully to draw the boy out. Sherry judged that Keith felt intimidated by his dad. Who knew what Garrett was like as a parent? As a husband? She’d heard somewhere that Texas law had a tendency to favor men in cases of divorce. Did the poor tyke miss his mom? Was that it? Had Garrett taken this job to spite his ex-wife? To keep the boy from her?
“What?” With a start Sherry realized Lock had spoken to her.
“I said, I don’t expect you to work weekends. I realize now that we set a Sunday deadline. It didn’t register at the time. My mind’s been jumpy as a frog in a hot skillet. Keith’s school starts Monday. If we don’t find a house, I may be forced to transfer him a second time when we do.”
“Your Realtor...?”
“Isn’t worth ten cents in Confederate money. He claims the market’s bad because of heavier than normal enrollment in all the area colleges.” His eyes clouded. “Everything we own is stored, which is why we’re shopping. Most of Keith’s clothes ended up in boxes at the back of the storage unit.”
Megan shifted from one foot to another, a frown of concentration wrinkling her forehead. “I saw a For Sale sign this morning.”
Sherry sucked in a breath. Megan must mean the sign outside the corner town house. Sherry purposely closed her ears. Who in their right mind would want their boss next door? She picked up the jeans Mark had said he liked. “I’ll go pay for these. Megan, if you want those—” she pointed to the pair Megan had tossed aside “—bring them.” Sherry headed for the cash register.
Garrett detained Megan. “Where did you see a For Sale sign?”
Her frown deepened. “On our way here, I think...but I can’t exactly remember.”
“Oh. Too bad.”
“Look,” Sherry called back, “I hate to be unsociable, but the kids have long shopping lists. This is the last weekend before school opens, so the stores will get crazy by afternoon.” She aimed a smile at Garrett’s son, who peeked at her from behind a rack of shirts. “Opening day of school is pretty exciting, Keith.”
He continued to watch her with solemn eyes.
Garrett joined his son. “Guess we’ll go.” He tossed Sherry a wave, and she fluttered her fingers, wishing he’d hurry up and leave.
Megan bounced over to where Sherry had moved up in the line. “He seems nice. A fox. Don’t you just love how he talks? Southern drawls are sooo dreamy.”
Sherry mumbled something unintelligible. The very last thing she needed was to agree and have it somehow get back to Lock. Chatterbox that Megan was, she might blab anything at the dinner table. Not that Nolan gossiped. But if h
e somehow let news of that nature slip in his department, those guys would have a field day spreading
rumors.
Sherry craned her neck to watch Lock’s broad back disappear out the door. Only then did her breakfast settle. In a mall this big she naturally assumed they’d seen the last of the Locks. After paying, she guided the kids to the next store. And the next.
“So we meet again.” Garrett’s lazy greeting an hour later grated on Sherry’s frazzled nerves. She spun toward his voice and landed squarely on the toe of his shiny black boot. “What are you doin—” Thrown off balance, Sherry fell against him.
Garrett caught her. Hopping on one foot, he polished the toe of his damaged boot against the opposite denim-clad leg. “I do believe you’re trying to maim me for life, Doc.”
All ten of Sherry’s fingers dug into the soft fabric of his shirt for a moment—until she felt singed by the heat of the hard flesh underneath. It was she who scrambled out of his grasp. “Why are you shopping at Victoria’s Secret?” she whispered loudly.
“I...uh...” He glanced around, noting for the first time racks of satin-and-lace undergarments. Taking her arm, he dragged her and her many packages toward the door. “We ran into Mark. He said as soon as you’re finished here, y’all plan to eat lunch. I thought we might go together.”
She dug in her heels and ground to a stop. “Why?”
“Why what?” He flashed another nervous glance around. No one appeared to be paying attention, but Garrett felt more at ease after stepping out of the store and into the mall.
Sherry signaled to Megan that she’d be right back. Garrett’s obvious discomfort stirred amusement and a modicum of sympathy in her. She realized, too, that inviting himself to lunch hadn’t been a come-on. So what was his purpose? “I repeat, why should we eat together?”
His gaze swerved to his son, who was seated on a bench beside Mark. Garrett’s expression changed. Softened. “Keith’s having a hard time adjusting to the move. Huntsville is the only home he’s known. Mark’s older, but the two seem to be getting along. I thought—”
The Boss Next Door (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 7
