Blessed Twice Read online

  So far I’d trained them to fall over only one eye if I dropped my head. “Don’t get me wrong, the wispy long layers are hot, very becoming.”

  I gave an amused snort. Alexa tossed out compliments all the time, rarely conscious of it. “Where’s Javier?” I turned back to look for his entrance.

  The doors on the other aisle opened and in walked Dr. Wagner again. He loped up to the fourth row and inched his way toward a middle seat. I glanced back over at the section where he’d been sitting. That woman now sat alone in her row, head down, but I could swear her eyes were tracking Dr. Wagner’s progress.

  A body stopped in the aisle, blocking my view of the solitary woman. “Hola, chicas.” Short, spiky black hair greeted my gaze as Javier bent to retrieve my laptop bag before turning and plopping it onto his lap while taking a seat. He was a solid man, not too husky, not too fit, the perfect blend of the two. Half Mexican, half Spanish, his darker complexion was part bronze part olive. He had the kind of smile that could make people worship at his feet. His ethics students loved him, constantly voted him the most popular, and it only had partially to do with how engaging he was as an instructor.

  “Hey, Javi, good break?” I knew he’d returned to Texas to visit his parents.

  “My therapy bill is going to rival my mortgage this month,” he joked. “Coffee this week? I want to hear about your trip, and you can save my therapist an hour with me.”

  “Sounds good. Lexi, you in?”

  “I’ve got an extra five pounds to spare now that I’ve cut my hair.”

  “Was that a yes?” Javier stage whispered to me. He liked to make fun of her southern sayings and accent, which was funny coming from a Texan with a twangy Mexican accent. His head pitched forward from the smack Alexa issued which would have incited a slap fight if our dean hadn’t stepped up to the microphone.

  “Can everyone hear me?” The question finished with a high pitched electronic wail, eliciting a groan from the entire crowd.

  “Sorry. Okay, looks like we’re all set. Welcome back from break everyone. I trust you’re rested and ready to finish out the semester.” Gene Goudy peered over his reading glasses at the agreeable crowd. Like anyone was going to debate that statement.

  “Good, now, the reason I’ve brought you all in today is to announce the launch of our new venture program. Five enterprising students will have their business ideas funded by the University.”

  Gasps of surprise rolled through the audience. “Holy hell! When did the university turn into a venture capital firm?” Javier muttered beside me.

  Holy hell was right. Did they have any idea what they were getting into with this?

  “There will be limitations on funding, types of businesses, scale, and location, but we believe this program will set the MBA curriculum apart from other schools.” Gene proceeded to flip through a presentation outlining the qualifications, scope of the funding, and other information, all of which looked far from haphazard. Perhaps they did know what they were getting into.

  “This will be a graduate symposium offered during the summer session as a beta test. Obviously, we’d like the most qualified among you to run the symposium. It will mean staying on for the full summer session and a new syllabus for this unprecedented class. It will also require a minimum of two professors involved day to day.” He slapped his hands together and rubbed them while waiting for his faculty to step up with equal enthusiasm.

  Whispers ran through the crowd, moving to low murmurs.

  No one would be volunteering for this potential blazing failure of a class. Too much was still left undone and unknown. Having your name attached to something that could become a huge public relations nightmare was career suicide, tenure or no.

  “Come on now,” Gene continued from the podium. “A third of you are already signed up for the summer session.”

  “Well,” Dr. Wagner’s booming voice sounded from behind us. “It seems to me that this would fit right in with the entrepreneurship core of classes.”

  “Holy hell,” Javier muttered for me. I could feel Alexa getting ready to launch herself across two rows and throttle Wagner on my behalf.

  “Quite so. Briony, you’ve done wonders with the entrepreneurship program. You would obviously be the most qualified to lead this symposium and act as faculty advisor for the enterprising students.”

  Seventy faculty members of the graduate school of business waited for me to say something. I’d met almost all at least once, some I knew well. Now was the time to be eloquent. “Uhh…” Brilliant, good start. “I wasn’t scheduled for summer session. In fact, I wasn’t planning to be in the state for the summer.” Plus, there were other professors in the entrepreneurship department that he could pick on.

  “You’re not taking a visiting professorship somewhere, are you?” Gene leaned forward on the podium, talking to me as if we were the only two people in the room.

  “No,” I answered truthfully. It was now too late to look into a visiting professorship, no matter how much I wished I had. The summer plan was to keep busy with Caleb, explore Virginia a bit more, then head back home to Vermont and decompress.

  “Good, then we can count on you?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Who else?”

  I jerked forward, but Alexa’s arm shot out like we were coming to a sudden stop in a car, crushing me into the backrest of my seat. She must have recognized that I didn’t have a valid argument, and even if I did, it probably wouldn’t be wise to make it now that I’d been thrown onto the altar in front of the whole business school. Screwed, thy name is Briony.

  “Someone from general management might be helpful.” Wagner continued to scythe through the business fields he’d applied for.

  “So would accounting,” one of the management professors shot back.

  If I weren’t already tied to this project, I might find the posturing funny. Unfortunately, my new summer plans now depended on who else would be strapped in beside me.

  “Marketing seems like a logical choice.” Wagner just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

  “They can’t run the business without a solid accounting foundation, Wags, and you know it,” the marketing guru on staff taunted.

  “I was hoping for one from each of the core business functions,” Gene persisted cluelessly. He couldn’t seem to get that no one was going to stick their necks out on this project. Cue cards might help. Smoke signals would probably be too subtle.

  “Since you’ve already got an expert on business startup, at a bare minimum, operations management would be the best support system for these young entrepreneurs.” Maybe Wagner didn’t know that just because he had a mouth didn’t mean he always had to be using it.

  When no immediate retort came back from someone in operations, general agreement noises sounded throughout the auditorium. Gene, left with grave disappointment that his staff wasn’t wetting themselves to volunteer, cast about looking over his operations staff. “Dr. Desiderius? You were already scheduled for the summer session. This venture would benefit greatly from your guidance in operational matters.”

  I followed his line of sight toward the side aisle. No one appeared to be giving off the don’t-you-dare-drag-me-into-this look, so I couldn’t tell who his victim was. Then a slight movement caught my eye. That woman, the one who’d slipped inside unnoticed, who’d somehow frightened Wagner to the other side of the auditorium, gave a single nod of her head.

  “Wonderful. We’ll forward the memo and presentation to you both. I’ll expect a syllabus and proposal ready to publish on the student intranet to invite business plans from those applying for start-up capital. Two weeks?” Once again he didn’t wait for our consent. “This is exciting people. I want your full support for the success of this new project. I’m sure that our two leaders would appreciate your input. Good meeting.” This was Gene’s way of signaling the end of a meeting.

  “You’re screwed,” Alexa whispered as people practically leapt out of their seats and pushed toward the exits.
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  Before I could skewer her with a glare, Javier added, “Royally.”

  Chapter 3

  The ridiculous crowding at the exits made it feel like we’d missed a fire alarm. The net had been cast, and I’d been caught.

  What did they have to worry about? My threesome stayed in our seats, waiting out the tide of people streaming for the doors.

  “How bad is this, really?” I asked their opinion, dread settling like a heavy stone in my stomach.

  “Is your résumé updated?” Javier offered drolly.

  “It’s not that bad,” Alexa put in. “But if the University of Vermont calls to ask you back again, maybe you don’t immediately turn them down this time.”

  “Support systems are, you know, supportive. In case you didn’t realize, you two are my support system. Act like it, please!” I dropped my head into my hands.

  “The good news is you’re capable enough to launch a business from a coma,” Javier complemented. “The bad news is you’ve given away every spare moment you’ve got from now until they are launched.”

  “Which for you is also good news because it provides the perfect excuse for why you probably won’t date all summer,” Alexa offered brightly. Unlike me, she had an active social life and tried to coax me into double dates all the time. Her dating practices were a thing of envy with me and had been since her husband of fourteen years blindsided her with divorce papers over a year ago.

  Despite suffering a major blow to her confidence level by not knowing what had gone wrong with her marriage, she’d already managed to have a transition man and several successful dates. I suspected she relished being back out in the singles scene, also unlike me.

  “I think I hate you both.”

  “Don’t think it, sister, know it.” Javier wriggled his eyebrows in a way that literally charmed the pants off of a fair share of men down at his favorite gay club in town.

  I twisted in my seat to find that Gene was talking to that woman, Dr. Desiderius, keeping her in the auditorium as well.

  “What do you guys know about this ops prof? Is she new? I’ve never seen her at any of the faculty get-togethers or department meetings.”

  “No, she’s not new.” Alexa swiveled her head to make sure she wasn’t being overheard.

  Before I could question her wary tone, Javier spoke up. “She keeps to herself. Works hard, keeps consistent office hours, but she doesn’t socialize. I’m actually surprised to see her here today.”

  “What were you going to say,” I prompted Alexa, recognizing that she was holding something back.

  “Keeps to herself? Yeah. Nobody knows anything about her. Not just anything, I mean absolutely nothing, zero, zilch. No gossip, no rumors, no clue, nothing.”

  “Must chap your hide, eh, Lex?” Javier goaded, receiving another swat. We both knew how much Alexa loved to keep her finger on the pulse of department news.

  “I’ll chap your hide, mister,” she shot back at her best friend.

  They’d been hired together at UVA over a decade ago and knew dangerous amounts about each other.

  “Seriously though,” he continued, “her students love her. Her classes have the longest waiting lists. If she didn’t pull her name from the voting for best professor, she’d win by a landslide every year.”

  Alexa snorted. “How that’s even possible when she never talks to anyone, I’ll never know.”

  “She’s certainly not among the staff’s most popular. In fact, most of them avoid her like she’s highly contagious. So, um, good luck with that.” Javier jumped to his feet before I could land a smack.

  “It’ll be fine. I’m sure she’s just terribly misunderstood,” Alexa shared in a tone that told me she didn’t believe a word of it.

  She waved and followed Javier up to the now cleared exit.

  I edged my way out to the aisle. Gene was just finishing up talking to my new cellmate, I mean, counterpart. He turned with a sheepish look. “Thanks again for leading this. I’m expecting good things out of you two. Can’t wait to see the syllabus next week.”

  “Next week?” I croaked. Hadn’t he said two weeks?

  “Well, er, yes, if you need longer…” With that he turned and hustled up the aisle, leaving me with the other sucker in the crowd. Her eyes aimed briefly at mine before focusing on the retreating back of our esteemed dean.

  “For that he gets paid 200 grand more than we do,” I snarked to break the ice. When she didn’t react, I backpedaled. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little cornered and trying not to react like Butch and Sundance.”

  She glanced at me again, a flicker of recognition in her brown eyes. Either she thought she knew me or she felt the same way as I did about this.

  “Any ideas off the top of your head about this symposium?” I tried to keep desperate hope from marking my tone. Two weeks wouldn’t be enough time to plan a syllabus, much less put together workable text for the website. “At this point a rough outline would get us moving.” I got a shake of her head and soft sigh in response. Yeah, ditto. “Well, I’ll jot down some ideas tonight. If you’ve got time, maybe we could meet tomorrow?” The nod I received this time expressed the same reluctant acceptance I was feeling about this project. “I can head over to your office or we can meet in mine?”

  She squinted sharply as if neither suggestion appealed then settled her gaze back on me. “Your office is fine.” Her smooth, low voice startled me. I realized it was the first thing she’d said. I’d been rambling around my own mind, so hassled by this out-of-the-blue assignment that I hadn’t realized she’d not yet spoken. I allowed time for her to blow off some of her own frustration, but nothing else came.

  “I’m done with classes at noon tomorrow. We could get some lunch while we toss out ideas?” We might as well make use of any available time.

  Her head was shaking before I’d finished. “I’m in class. Later?”

  Since Caleb wasn’t due back for three days, I could stay as long as I needed. “Sure, I’ll be in my office. 233, come find me when your class is over.”

  She stood, nodding at my suggestion. What looked like a lot of relief rinsed through her expression. She grabbed a well worn leather backpack from the seat next to her and swung one arm through, ready to head out.

  Shorter than me by three or four inches and slighter than me by at least one size, I didn’t know how I’d managed not to notice her on campus before. Her attractive looks alone would have caught my eye, but the ping on my radar usually turned my head even when I wasn’t looking for it. Studying her now, I appreciated how the symmetry of spacing between her eyes and nose matched the contour of her cheekbones and jaw line. Usually women this tiny had a pixyish look to their faces, but that adjective didn’t apply here. Pretty suited better, a face in perfect equilibrium for her smaller frame. I wondered if the blond and red highlights in her short hair had been added or if she really had three different colors that made for a shade of brown that was halfway between honey and chestnut. Yes, definitely attractive.

  She flicked similarly colored eyes from the ground up to me three times, presumably trying to push me out of the aisle with her gaze. I stepped back self-consciously. “I’m Briony, by the way. Sorry I didn’t start with that.”

  “Em.” That was it; she didn’t offer anything else.

  I held out my hand in greeting and watched her startled eyes just stare at it. For a moment it seemed like she was fighting to make this gesture seem logical. As if her brain was telling her hand to accept mine, that this was a customary form of greeting, but the synapse that linked the two body parts misfired. Normally, this kind of rebuff would annoy me. But I’d witnessed her desperate struggle, and strangely, I felt compassion for this woman who seemed incapable of even the most rudimentary forms of personal interaction. I let my hand drift back down, intrigued by the grateful look that crossed her face. “Em? Is that short for Emily or Emma?”

  Her eyes flipped back up to meet mine, having monitored the fall of my hand back to my s
ide. “No.” Okay. “What’s it short for?” I persisted, intent on gaining some personal ground with this woman. We were now doomed to spend much of the summer together. It would be nice to have a friendly accomplice in this endeavor.

  “My first name.”

  An awkward, prolonged silence passed, but she didn’t relent. I backed down because it was the only option I had. “All right. You’re probably feeling as ambushed by this project as I am. I get it.” My hands flipped up in surrender. “Well, Em, short for some mysterious name, it was nice to meet you anyway. See you tomorrow.” I started up the aisle, feeling the embarrassment of this rebuff with each step.

  Her soft voice stopped me before I reached the door. “It’s nothing personal. I don’t, I mean, no one…” Swiveling slowly, I didn’t want to appear too eager, especially since she was having trouble finishing what she wanted to say.

  “It’s not just me then?” I couldn’t help but tease. The fact that she’d stopped me said that she was making a concerted effort. I could keep things light. In fact, that would be a necessity if we were going to survive this summer with our sanity intact.

  A small twitch stretched the corners of her full mouth. Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped. “Just M, the letter. The name’s old fashioned. I don’t use it.” Her gaze narrowed, studying my reaction. “And it was nice meeting you, too, Briony.” With that she moved past me toward the door.

  More than five whole words, color me impressed. “Bye,” I managed before she’d opened the door and, because I couldn’t help it, guessed, “Mildred? Madge? Myrtle?” Only the hitch in her step told me she understood the quest she’d now put me on.