Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I grab my cell and type shorthand information about everything he said into my note app. “Well, that helps. A lot. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We eat, finishing up the remainder of our meals in companionable silence until my phone buzzes, and I glance down.
Carrie’s text shows on my screen. Shower time. L.J. will FaceTime you in about thirty minutes.
I glance at Shane. “I need to get going. My son is going to FaceTime with me soon, and I don’t want to miss the call.”
“I get it. You’re a good mom.” He smiles at me, the beauty in his expression taking my breath away.
“Thank you. I try to be.”
Because we ordered and brought our trays outside, I start to gather things together.
“I’ve got it,” he insists.
“Okay … well, thank you for getting me to the right place. And for dinner.” He paid despite my protests.
“You’re welcome.”
A pause ensues, the first truly awkward silent moment since we met. I don’t know what to say, and he seems equally uncertain. Will he ask to see me again? Take my number? I realize we haven’t even exchanged last names.
And I’m not even sure if I want to get involved with a man now. Although my best friend from Tampa, Layla, insists it’s time I try dating again, I’m not ready. Considering I just moved to a new state, a new guy is the last thing I think I need.
And since Shane, despite the occasional intense and lingering looks my way, doesn’t seem inclined to make a move, I decide to wrap things up. “Well, thanks again, and it was nice meeting you.”
Feeling like a dork, I wave a hand in the air, turn, and walk away, hoping I am headed in the right direction this time. And doing my best not to turn around and look back to see if he is watching me.
* * *
Shane
I watch the sexy sway of Amber’s hips as she walks away, damning myself for letting her go without exchanging numbers. Despite the fact that I know it is for the best. With the summer session beginning, I have two months to work on my paper in between teaching Intro to Economics as a substitute for a fellow professor, a friend who is on sabbatical.
I always throw myself into my work, determined to be successful in a way my father told me I’d never be.
My father, and I use the term loosely, is a lawyer at a major Boston law firm, who divorced my mother when I was five years old and married the partner’s daughter in the firm where he worked, starting a new life and a new family. Leaving my mother to raise me essentially on her own.
Sure, there was alimony and child support, but my mom was a single parent, there for me when I was sick, picking me up after school, attending every major event in my life when my father didn’t.
Yet despite being a mostly absentee parent, Zachary Warden, a top corporate attorney, expected his only son to follow in his footsteps if I wanted him to pay for college. My decision to become a college professor was a disappointment to Zachary, one he never let me forget. Not even when I graduated summa cum laude from Yale with an MBA and a minor in economics. And my father didn’t pay for my education.
Instead, I took loans and worked my way through college, determined to live life on my own terms, preferring to bury myself in academia rather than legal briefs or corporate mergers. I enjoy teaching students and watching them succeed. Earning tenure will be the final step I need to ensure the future I’m working toward.
Succeeding is important to me and not to prove something to my old man, with whom I have no relationship to speak of. I have a goal, and I’m determined to reach it. Tenure and job security mean everything to me, and I nearly had my dreams derailed thanks to a student who reported me for coming on to her when I was an adjunct professor at another school.
Not only hadn’t I made a pass at her, she approached me in my office, practically stripping before I could stop her. I turned her down. Not only because of the no-student-teacher-fraternization policy, but because I had no interest in the younger girl. Even after I was proven innocent thanks to another student, who did the right thing and told the truth about her friend’s retaliatory behavior, the incident left a bad taste in my mouth for how my fellow professors treated me during the scandal. They ostracized me until I was exonerated. I don’t need colleagues like that.
Seeking a new start, I came to Linton when a friend here told me of a job opening, and I don’t regret the move. Though I date on occasion—I am a normal man, after all—I am always careful to choose women who aren’t involved with the school. Women who are busy with their own careers and aren’t looking for a man who would shower them with attention. I don’t have much time to give. Still, it’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone, my paper and my teaching taking up all of my time.