Playing the Game (41 page)
Authors: M.Q. Barber
She’d flushed red and busied herself by taking a pen out of her backpack.
“You must be Carla Gill?” he’d asked, pausing in front of her to give her his last syllabus copy.
She’d nodded without looking up and pulled her syllabus closer. “Yes, sorry. I missed the bus from the dorms. I had to jog all the way here.”
“No worries,” he’d said, hoping she’d look up.
She didn’t.
“Perhaps you’ll time your morning jog a bit better on Thursday.”
She’d managed a tiny smile, but immediately afterward buried her face in her hands to hide that charming blush. That was the closest thing to an actual conversation they’d ever had, up until that morning in the quad. He’d been watching out for her over the years and hoping to bump into her, as he knew she was a native of the area. Every time he’d seen her or encountered her in some place, she’d seemed utterly disinterested in interacting. He had seen her far more times than he’d screwed up the courage to say hello, but usually opted to leave her be. He’d even thought about dropping her an email once or twice, but every time he brought up the screen and pasted in the email address listed in the alumni directory, he worried about how she would perceive the intrusion. Would she think he was some sort of stalker? Really, he was just a besotted fool. Who
wouldn’t
be for her?
That morning on the quad, he’d thought,
Screw it. I’m probably leaving anyway. What’s the harm?
There he was with a stack of paperwork on the desk in front of him ready to fax overseas. It only needed his signature and he’d be expected to be in Ireland to present himself for orientation within a week. With all of the American schools he’d interviewed far from making hiring decisions for the fall, he was out of time. That paperwork needed to go in immediately or he’d lose the gig. They’d texted him that admonishment at the start of the exam period. He thought about the way Carla shuddered at his touch and how the pupils in her blue-green eyes danced when he’d put his entire focus on her. Oh, she was interested. If he’d known she was receptive, he would have sent the damned email, but now he may have been too late to start anything beyond a one-night stand. Carla didn’t seem to be a one-night stand kind of woman.
He ground his teeth and scooped up the employment paperwork on the desktop. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to the class as he strode to the door. “For any emergencies that just can’t wait, I’ll be in the department office.”
He nearly jumped out of his Pumas the moment he pulled the door handle. His friend Seth, a bald, red-bearded ogre of a rugby player stood just on the other side with his fist raised, ready to knock.
“Jesus!” he hissed, pushing the big man back and pulling the door closed. He put a hand on Seth’s shoulder and herded him toward the fire stairs. “What are you doing here?” he asked once they were out of earshot of the students and on the way down to the second floor.
“We’re going to the club tonight and need a driver,” Seth said.
“Hell no.” They turned the landing. “If I keep messing around with you and Curt, I’ll be on some kind of international no-fly list. I need to fly out of this country next week, so I’d like to keep my shenanigans down to a bare minimum. You’ve still got another year here. Or more. What
is
your status with that dissertation?”
“It’s not the dissertation. My advisor has disappeared. Went
poof!
So you’re taking the job?”
Grant brandished his paperwork at Seth as he pulled the door open. “Faxing them now. Dropping the hardcopies in the mail as soon as Courtney finishes her exam.”
“Courtney is cute.”
“Oh, you know her?”
“Yes, sometimes when I’m bored I sit out on the wall and watch the kids file out of your class. She winked at me once. I think she’s a whore. Anyhow, girls in the physics department are much uglier than usual this year. I scout wherever I can.”
“Way to be inappropriate, bud.”
“Can’t get any if I don’t try.”
“Well, Curt doesn’t try and he seems to do okay.”
“He’s got the accent.”
“I’ve got the
same
accent.”
“His is better.”
Grant blew out an exasperated breath and Seth followed him down the hall into the office. They both waved at the perky receptionist as they walked past her desk toward the copy room. Once situated in front of the fax machine, Seth returned to his more pressing matter.
“Well, your imminent departure is all the more reason for you to go out with us, yes? A last harrumph?”
Grant cringed and continued stabbing at the machine’s keypad. Seth was an international student, like Grant and Curt, but hailed from “Mother Russia.” He was studying astrophysics and had plans to join the Russian space program at some point…if it still existed by the time he finished his damn dissertation. Seth regularly botched his colloquialisms and Grant had the never-ending chore of educating him on the intricacies of casual language. “Last
hurrah
, you mean. Listen, any other time you know I would, but I’ve got to grade thirty exams
immediately
and get those grades posted before I shove out of here.” That, and he wanted to try to catch up with Carla before he left. It couldn’t hurt to try, now that he was leaving. If he made an ass of himself, he would never have to worry about seeing her again to face the embarrassment.
Seth fell to his knees and pressed his hands together as if to pray. “Just two hours, man, come on. Scott’s honor we will behave.”
“Yeesh.” Grant collected the pages falling from the machine’s scanner while giving Seth a regarding stare. It was done. He was an assistant professor of Irish history. “Fine. Just two hours. Don’t get me into any fucking trouble.”
Seth leaped to his feet and whooped with glee.
Shit. I know how tonight’s gonna end. Should probably have bail bonds on speed dial.
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