In a Broken Dream (The Broken Series Book 4) (4 page)

Dr.
Sandstrom leaned back in his chair and quietly studied me. “I just want you to
know I’m here for you… if you ever do need someone to talk to. I’ll see if I
can drum up some money for a stipend. How does a hundred dollars sound for each
of the guest speakers?”

Shae
and I exchanged glances. “That sounds good to me,” Shae replied.

“Me
too,” I agreed. “Thanks, Dr. Sandstrom.”

“What
about your own compensation for designing and leading the seminar?” he asked.
“Have you two agreed on a fee for developing the course?”

“Do
you plan to make this personal risk seminar a permanent part of your
curriculum?” Shae asked.

Dr.
Sandstrom nodded. “Yes. We’ve decided to make this one of the core requirements
for our conflict resolution program. Students will receive one credit toward
their degree for attending the three day seminar.”

I
took a deep breath and blew it out before glancing over at Shae.

She
nodded.

“We’d
like to waive financial compensation in exchange for something else,” I admitted,
returning my attention to Dr. Sandstrom.

He
leaned forward in his chair, his interest clearly piqued. “Go on…”

“We’d
like you to offer our friend, Oni, a spot in your graduate program, starting winter
semester. We met Oni in Ukraine. She finishes her undergraduate degree in
international relations from the Tavrida National Vernadsky University this
fall. She’s a really smart girl, one of the top students in her class, and she
expressed an interest in our program when we were in Ukraine,” I explained.

Dr.
Sandstrom’s eyes widened. “This is… unexpected.” He rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. “Can she afford the tuition?”

I
shook my head. “I seriously doubt it. I was hoping she might qualify for some
scholarships. She can live with me if need be.”

He
jotted something in the day planner on his desk. “Why are you asking for this?”

I
looked down at my hands in an effort to conceal the tears that had pooled in my
eyes.

Shae
squeezed my hand. “We’re worried about Oni. We’re afraid she could be in danger
because she was so closely affiliated with us when we were in Ukraine. She’s
been speaking out against government corruption, the SVR, and Russia’s meddling
in Ukrainian politics, which puts her at risk.”

“Speaking
out against oppressive governments and pressuring political leaders to seek
change is an important step in conflict transformation,” Dr. Sandstrom lectured.
“If we offered asylum to all those who spoke out against corrupt and oppressive
governments, we’d be compromising our ability to improve civil liberties, human
rights, and human security.”

“I
know,” I conceded softly. “I’m just worried about her. I want her safe. Please
just think about it. I’ll pay her tuition and her airfare over here if I have
to, but please just consider bringing her into the program. She’ll offer
valuable insight into the types of conflicts they face in that region. The
other students will learn a lot from her.”

Dr.
Sandstrom nodded. “Of that, I have no doubt. I admire your decision to waive
the development fee in exchange for her acceptance into the program. I’ll speak
with the provost and the dean and see what I can do. In the interim, ask her to
complete an application. Have her send the application, three letters of
recommendation, and a certified copy of her undergrad transcript directly to
me.”

I
jumped out of my chair. “Really? Oh, God. Thank you! Thank you so much!” I skirted
the desk and gave him a hug. “I know you’re not making any promises. I’m just
so happy you’re even considering this.”

Dr.
Sandstrom laughed. “I’ll try to make it happen.” He rose from the desk and gave
Shae a hug. “We best head over to the classroom. We’re already late.”

We
joined Jase and Chance in the hallway. “Heading over to class?” Jase asked.

I
nodded.

“One
last question,” Dr. Sandstrom interjected as we walked down the hallway. “Does
she know you’re doing this?”

“No,”
I confessed. “She has no idea.”

Dr.
Sandstrom paused just outside the door to the classroom. “You’ve been corresponding
through e-mail, I presume.”

“Yes,”
I replied. “Oni reached out to me through my work e-mail when she heard what
happened in Sevastopol. We’ve been e-mailing off and on since then.”

“Do
you have another way to reach her?” he asked.

I
glanced at Shae.

“I
could ask Konstantin to deliver a message to her,” Shae offered. “He lives in
Ukraine,” she explained to Dr. Sandstrom. “He calls to check on me a couple of
times a week, and I think his phone is pretty secure given the nature of his
work.”

Dr.
Sandstrom nodded. “I think a personal messenger might be the best way to
deliver this news to her. Your friend’s e-mails are probably being monitored.
If she is speaking out against the Russian government, it would be best to keep
these plans to bring her to the United States as quiet as possible. We don’t
want the SVR throwing up any roadblocks or tracing her to you.”

I
glanced at Jase as he took a step toward me. He was listening to our
conversation, and he didn’t look very pleased. “I agree,” I replied hesitantly.

“I’ll
have Konstantin download the application to the university and personally
deliver it to Oni so it doesn’t appear on her computer. It isn’t uncommon for
students in undergrad programs to request copies of their transcripts, so that
shouldn’t raise any red flags. She’s going to have to be careful about who
writes the letters of recommendation for grad school and avoid any references
to our university. Can Kri and I write two of the three letters?” Shae asked.

Dr.
Sandstrom nodded. “That would be fine.”

“I’ll
ask Konstantin to collect the documents once Oni is finished. He can mail them
to our office at Seeds for Peace. Konstantin is going to Poland for a business
meeting next week. Maybe he can mail the documents while he’s there. That’s
probably safer than mailing the documents from Ukraine. Of course, we’re
operating under the assumption that Oni is going to want to do this,” Shae admitted.

“She
will,” I stated confidently. I stepped forward, intending to follow Shae and
Dr. Sandstrom into the classroom, but Jase grabbed my arm.

“Kristine
and I need a minute,” he informed Dr. Sandstrom. Glowering at me, he said, “I
want to know what you’re getting yourself into, and I want to know now.”

*
* * * *

“You
want to do
what
?” Rafael exclaimed. He pulled his gloves off and stilled
the punching bag before turning to face me. His long dark hair was pulled back
into a ponytail. Thin cotton pants hung low on his hips, his narrow waist
accentuated by incredibly broad shoulders and a finely-chiseled chest. He
wasn’t wearing a shirt. His caramel colored skin was glistening with sweat. I
suspected most people found Rafael’s muscular physique a little intimidating,
but I loved seeing him like this. It did unspeakable things to me.

I
perched nervously on the edge of the weightlifting bench with my back turned
toward the mirrored wall. “I want to get Oni out of Ukraine. I’m trying to get
her accepted into my graduate program, and if they don’t offer her a large
enough scholarship, I’d like to invite her to come live with me.”

“With
us
,” Rafael corrected. He dropped onto the bench across from me.

I
turned toward him. “Well, yes, with us.” We were taking turns staying at each
other’s house, so we were practically living together.

He
pulled my knees between his, bracketing me between his well-muscled thighs.
“You were around Oni for what? A week?”

“Yes,”
I conceded. “But we spent a lot of time together in Simferopol.”

Rafael
frowned. “You don’t know this girl, Kristine. She could be working for Maxim or
for the SVR for all you know. What if Maxim is paying her to drive a wedge
between us, or what if the SVR has threatened to kill her unless she leads them
to you?”

I
shook my head. “This wasn’t Oni’s idea. It was mine. She doesn’t even know Shae
and I are trying to get her into our graduate program yet. Shae is going to ask
Konstantin to deliver the news in person, so the information isn’t intercepted
in an e-mail or over the phone. He’ll handle all the application materials and
mail them to Seeds for Peace from Poland.”

Rafael
sighed. “I knew the two of you were e-mailing, but I didn’t realize you were
considering this. She’s never asked for your help in getting her out of there?
She didn’t ask to come live with you? With us?” he corrected.

I
met his gaze head on. “No. She’s never suggested anything even close to this.
The only thing she did was express an interest in our graduate program when I
was working at her university.”

Rafael
reached for my hands. “I don’t know, Kristine. I can understand why you’d want
to help her, but you don’t know this girl very well. I’m worried someone else
could be using her to get close to you.”

“What
if I help get her into the graduate program and secure enough scholarship money
so she can live on campus or in an apartment of her own?” I asked.

“That
pill would be a little easier for me to swallow,” he confessed. Rafael stood
and pulled me to my feet. “I’m not telling you ‘no,’ Kristine. I want to
support you in the things that are important to you, but I want to ensure you
approach this in a way that doesn’t put you at risk.”

I
exhaled softly. “I know.”

He
wrapped his arms around me. “I love you.”

I
swallowed a throat full of tears as I burrowed into his chest. “I love you too,
Rafael.”

I
hoped it was enough.

“Are
you ready for this?” I asked, hopping out of my jeep.

“As
ready as I’ll ever be,” Cenia replied cheerfully. She locked her car with the
key fob. “Hey, Jase. How are you doing?”

“Good…
a little concerned about what I might be up against in there.” He jerked his
head toward the storefront for David’s Bridal.

“Me
too,” Cenia agreed. “Kri, are you loaded up with enough caffeine?”

I
hopped in place and shook out my arms. “Yep. I had two cups of coffee before I
left the house and a Venti with an extra shot from Starbucks during the drive
over here. Now I gotta pee.”

Cenia
laughed. “Why don’t you hit the bathroom while I get signed in?”

Jase
opened the door and waved us in. “After you.” He shuddered when he got a load
of all the dresses.

“Bathrooms?”
I asked the first sales associate I saw. The store had just opened so it was
still pretty empty.

“Back
there,” she replied, nodding toward the far corner of the store.

I
tapped Cenia on the arm. “Keep your cell phone handy. I don’t want to lose you
in a sea of satin.”

She
laughed as she glanced up from the appointment book. “You got it.”

Jase
followed me back to the restrooms. He ducked inside the men’s room when I walked
inside the ladies’ room. He met me back in the hallway. “I can’t believe I’m
doing this.”

I
laughed. “I can’t believe you’re doing this either. I would have been perfectly
safe with Cenia. She may be tiny but she packs a powerful punch. She learned
self-defense at the Air Force Academy, and she used to compete in power
lifting!”

He
glanced at me skeptically as we rounded the corner. “That little meerkat?”

“She’s
tiny but mighty,” I replied admiringly. Jase ran into me when I stopped
abruptly. “Where did all those women come from?”

His
eyes widened. “I think this just got interesting.”

I
grabbed his hand. “We’ve gotta find Cenia, quick!” We dodged a number of women
as we scoured the aisles. I finally found her stuck in the middle of a long aisle,
corralled between two groups of women who were yanking dresses off the rack
like their lives depended on it. Cenia wasn’t moving. At all.

Jase
lingered at the edge of the aisle as I dove in to rescue her.

“Chicken!”
I called behind me.

Cenia’s
eyes locked on mine when she heard my voice. Cenia, the very same Cenia who had
gone to Trout Lake and Paris to fight bad guys and rescue me, was suddenly
sporting the deer in the headlights look.

I
squeezed past four of the six women who were completely monopolizing the aisle.
“What’s the deal?” I asked Cenia. “Are they offering a prize to the woman who
collects the most dresses?”

Cenia
shook her head. Her jaw moved when she tried to respond, but no sound came from
her mouth.

My
eyes widened when I realized just how overwhelmed she felt. I glanced at the
dress hogs before grabbing Cenia by the shoulders. “You’ve been looking through
bridal magazines, right?”

She
nodded.

“Okay.
Mermaid style?”

She
shook her head.