Ben hated sounding like an old man. He’d simply ignore what she wore.
And if he mentioned the improper things about her, it would just take longer to start their research. “Good morning, Miss Clark. Would you like a cup of coffee before we begin?”
“Nope. I brought a Diet Coke.” She shoved her rolling briefcase to the side of his desk, set her Coke on a stack of papers, and reached into the paper bag for a donut. “I got you a chocolate cake donut with chocolate icing. Everyone likes those.”
When she thrust the bag at him, Benjamin automatically took it. Now that he had it, he might as well look inside to see what a chocolate cake donut with chocolate icing looked like. “I thought we might work in here since my desk is bigger and uncluttered.”
“Good idea.” She took the chair across from him and began to build her nest. Coke and donut to the left, laptop directly in front. Papers, books, pencils, her phone, and a box of tissues came out of the rolling case.
The woman was a traveling circus. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d brought lab rats.
He drank his coffee and nibbled on his donut as he watched her organize her chaos. By the time she finished, half of the desk was completely full and encroaching on his half of the space.
She leaned back and smiled as she handed him a sheet of paper. “I took the liberty of creating our calendar. If we are going to get this in on time, we need to stick to the outline and hire at least one intern immediately to help with the research.”
Benjamin was impressed. But then, she must have some skills or she never would have gotten her master’s degree.
She pointed her half-eaten donut at him. “I figured since we’re both single, we can work weekends and maybe a few nights. I’m fine with hiring an intern to help, but it’ll have to come out of your budget. I’ve already spent my research allotment.”
“I agree. The sooner we get the data, the sooner we can begin.” He glanced down at his donut and realized it was half gone. “I know just the man to intern. I’ll call him this morning. He’s about to graduate and this will look good on his résumé. He’s a few years older than most students, so if he has time to take the work on he’ll be dependable, and he has no family, so he can probably work this week.”
She smiled. “So, we begin.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down as if they were starting something illicit.
He shook his head. “I can’t work most Saturdays.” They didn’t know each other well enough for him to explain. “But weeknights and Sundays are open.”
“Nights are fine with me.” She winked at him. “I’ve always liked the night.”
“Fine, Miss Clark,” he said, having no idea what she was referring to.
“Call me Jenny.” She looked up from her notes and gave him a quick smile.
“Call me Benjamin, Jenny.” She had a bit of chocolate on her lip, but he didn’t plan to mention it.
She nodded as she shuffled through her notes and began handing him pages. “Last year’s proposal that won.” She leaned toward him. “Several studies in the past five years on sexual attraction and mating rituals. We might ask the librarian to pull all university studies on the subject in the past three years.”
Surprisingly, she also had an outline of what questions they might use for their survey.
“Please feel free to edit or add. I did it while I was watching CSI.” She giggled. “I can solve the crimes and work at the same time.”
Benjamin didn’t dare ask her which CSI she was watching. Probably Alien Crimes on Mars.
He studied each paper she handed him. Before he’d realized it she’d drawn him into the project. Three hours later they were both on their computers polishing the questionnaire. Ten questions on what attracts one person to another.
When they stopped at noon, he had to acknowledge that Miss Clark had a brain under all that red hair. She might drop down some wild rabbit-trail now and then, but her ideas, hypotheses, and theories on a subject he’d thought would be boring were actually very interesting.
The theory that people were attracted by smell surprised him. He would never have thought of smell until she explained many studies found attraction to someone’s smell was a strong factor.
As they walked downstairs to the coffee shop that served sandwiches, curiosity got the best of him. “Why haven’t you gotten your doctorate?” He leaned down a bit as he asked and discovered she smelled of chocolate.
“I started the program once at UT and a few years later at A&M, but life got in the way. It had always been my goal, but there were so many other paths to follow. At forty-three I feel like it’s too late.”
He didn’t ask more. When they entered the coffee shop area, he relaxed. After months of doing little more than nodding at each other, they were actually talking.
Lucky for him, he wasn’t the least bit attracted to her, even if she did smell like chocolate. She wasn’t his type. Correction, he didn’t really have a type. Women, in general, confused him. The games they played irritated him. Why couldn’t they just come out and say what they wanted?
Benjamin ordered at the counter and they sat by the window so they could watch the rain. Some called Clifton College a suitcase school because most students went home on Friday.
On weekdays there was always a line of students to pick up coffee before class, but on Saturday, they were the only two customers. The coffee shop and the library usually kept shortened hours over spring break.
“I’m glad it’s raining.” He broke their first silence all morning. “That way I don’t feel bad about not working with my dad.”
“Your dad still farms?”
“He does, but every year I take a bit more of the load. When I first came back, I was just free labor now and then, but the past few years I feel myself taking over more. It’s not that he’s slowing down. It’s more like he’s losing interest.”
“What about your mother?”
“She lives in Europe. They met in school right on this campus. She was studying to be an artist. Him a farmer. Dad doesn’t talk about her leaving, but I was just old enough to remember seeing him standing in the middle of the road watching her go. I’ve never seen him look as broken as he did that day. I don’t think he’s said her name since. Seems to me they had nothing in common, but Mom still broke his heart.”
“Attraction fades sometimes,” Jenny said. “Or maybe she couldn’t live in such a quiet place. Maybe she needed more color, more noise, more excitement.”
“Right. But something must have pulled them together in the beginning.”
“Maybe your dad was a hunk?”
“I doubt it. He is tall and lanky like me. His sentences are usually three words or less, and I’ve never heard him talk about anything but the weather, farming, or what he eats.” Ben leaned back, beginning to feel comfortable around Jenny. “You know, in the years I’ve been teaching, he’s never asked me one question about what I do.”
He noticed Jenny had a way of listening, really listening. Like she cared about what he was saying. He’d count that as a point of attraction on a survey.
As she ate a chip in little mouse bites, she added, “Maybe he was a great lover, or she liked the way he felt. Touch can be powerful. I’ve heard people say they never forget the feel of someone’s heart beating against theirs.”