And that made it no less exciting for me. I turned back to the house and imagined a correspondents’ dinner. I'd get the scoop, I'd capture the perfect quote, and Ford would congratulate me on my keen observations again. No, scratch that. I kicked Professor Bauer out of my daydream.
I couldn't wait to go to press conferences and listen intently to the hidden truths behind the spin. The idea of arguing over interpretations with Ford sent a zip of anticipation up my back. No, again, he was a professor at Landsman College and I was a student. Not only a student, but the Dean of Students’ daughter. I couldn't be daydreaming about him no matter how those metal-gray eyes sparked something inside me.
I pushed the handsome stranger out of my head. Tomorrow would arrive soon enough, and I could still get to know him. Then it would be easier to think of him as a stuffy, probably strict, teacher.
"Clarity, there you are. Professor Bauer, I'd like you to meet my prized assistant and the arranger of this successful party," my father said.
Ford's lethal smile hit me full force. "Nice to meet you, Clarity. Dean Dunkirk has been telling me all about how indispensable you are to him."
He didn't realize I was the dean's daughter; his smile was too warm and he held my outstretched hand a beat too long.
My father didn't notice the caress or the misunderstanding. "Clarity is indispensable, but that doesn't stop me from wishing she would break out, see a little more of the world, get inspired. Perhaps you can help convince her that it's actually better to bounce around a little and try things out before settling down."
Ford's smiled took my temperature up another five degrees. "She needs someone to bring her out of her shell?"
"Exactly," my father said. "Someone to show her it's okay to bend the rules now and then."
"Dean Dunkirk, should you really be talking about bending rules?" I asked.
My father laughed. "Ah, Clarity; she's my voice of reason. I just want you to feel some passion. What kind of person plans so carefully?"
"The person in charge of the desserts table. Please excuse me; there's an empty cookie tray I need to refill." I spun away from my father and Ford. I wasn't ready to see his gray eyes cool when he realized I was a student.
Professor Bauer, I reminded myself as I ignored the empty cookie tray and slipped out the back door of the kitchen. I edged along the sidewalk underneath the kitchen windows. Risking being seen for a second, I dodged into the shadows of the small fruit trees that separated the house from the vegetable garden. The sounds and pressures of the party faded behind me.
One of the few pieces of advice I remembered from my estranged mother echoed in my head. "You wanna know what love really feels like?" she had asked me when I had my first crush. "Imagine you're an outlet and your special someone is a plug. They come along, you realize how you fit together, and ding! The whole room lights up."
It was an odd memory to surface as I hid in the shadowed garden. I was glad for the cool breeze. Now that the temperature was dropping, it was actually starting to feel like fall. A good time to be wrapped up in a blanket in front of a crackling fire. My cheek resting against a strong, steady heartbeat and my hair caught in the rasping caress of a stubbled chin.
What was I doing? I paced around the four raised garden beds. A few stray plants hung on despite the coming frost, but even they could not keep Ford out of my head.
Professor Bauer.
I had to escape the party. Not only had my father neglected to introduce me as his daughter, but he had gone on and on about wanting me to do something reckless and passionate. Ford had listened politely but the wolfish curve of his lips told me he approved of my father's out-of-character advice. I wondered how many glasses of Scotch my father had drank. Maybe I should have dragged him outside to clear his head too.
It wasn't working for me. I paced one more lap around the raised garden beds then flopped onto our sun-bleached bench. Counting backwards was supposed to calm me. I took a deep breath and started at twenty. By fifteen, I was struggling to erase tall, dark, and handsome. By ten, my shoulders relaxed.
At seven, I heard boots on the stepping stones. My eyes flew open and Ford stopped just past the low branches of our old apple tree.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," he said.
You have no idea, I thought. "Too stuffy in there?" I asked him.
Ford laughed. "A little bit." He strode over and joined me on the bench. "Let me guess: you're escaping from your boss."
"My boss? Dean Dunkirk?" I knew I should correct him, but we were so separate from the party. There wouldn't be any harm in being my own person for just a few, quiet moments. "Yeah, he's a big talker about breaking out and bending rules, but what do you want to bet he'll have a dozen things for me to do when I get back?" I said.
Ford leaned back and stretched his long legs out. He crossed his ankles casually and sighed. "I know it's just the beginning of the school year, but I keep thinking about grabbing the train and heading to the end of the line. Or just riding until I feel like getting off and not caring where I end up. That's bad, isn't it?"
I hitched an elbow up onto the back of the bench and turned to face him. "I regularly dream about packing a bag, getting in my car, and just driving," I confessed.
"Talk to me when you have that bag already packed," Ford said. "We could be past Chicago and on our way west in an hour. Not that I've studied the train time tables or anything." His smile flashed like lightning in the dark garden.
"Why the train?" I asked.
"That way I'm moving, but I can still enjoy the scenery." He looped an arm over the back of the bench next to mine. His hand brushed the ends of my hair. "There are lots of beautiful things I'd like to focus on for a while."
His leg pressed along my thigh and the autumn air couldn't cool me down enough. A blush rose on my cheeks and I was glad for the shadowy garden. "Running away on a train sounds so romantic," I said.
"Exactly," Ford murmured. "Do you think Dean Dunkirk would approve of you jumping on a train for a romantic getaway?"
I pulled back and stood up. "Sorry, I really should be getting back to the party."
Ford stood up. "So, Dean Dunkirk's right, huh? You're always so good?"
"Good night," I said, and fled back to my father's house.
CHAPTER TWO
Ford
Clarity's dark-red hair was easy to spot through the windows. I wasn't ready to return to the party. I wasn't ready to admit that she was the reason I had stepped outside for some fresh air in the first place. It was all the professors, so noble in their pursuits, and the students, so fresh-faced and eager. It drove me crazy how the real world was pushed outside of Landsman College.
I watched Clarity move through the party. She belonged there, smiled and chatted with everyone, and looked at home. I felt a plume of warmth in my chest. Just minutes ago, she had been outside with me, wishing for a way to get far away and free of it all.
I knew the long hours and close quarters of a train would be no problem at all if Clarity was riding with me. The thought sent me marching towards the front of the house. I hadn't felt a kick of attraction that strong since high school. That girl dumped me flat right after I enlisted and I'd been keeping it simple ever since I’d returned to civilian life. Clarity was the only exception I'd run across, and all I could think to do was get far away from her.