Best Laid Plans Page 4

  That meant there wasn’t going to be a happy ending. His life was going down the toilet.

  “Hi there.” Someone stopped at his table. “Is this seat taken?”

  “You can have the table.” Rush barely glanced up at him.

  “I don’t mean to crowd your space.” His voice was soft, with a hint of Savannah in it, and while it might be intriguing, another tall blond was the last thing he needed in his life.

  “You’re not. It’s… I’m sorry, I have to go.” He rose, stuffed the notepad into his pocket, and crossed to the trashcan near the door. He tossed away the coffee he hadn’t taken two sips from and yanked open the door.

  A damp wind was blowing across campus, and he shivered and hurried to Professor Borders’s office in Addison Hall.

  “Good morning, Professor.”

  “Ah, Mr. Dalton.” The professor was an older man. His brown hair was receding and he had a bit of a paunch, but he had a nice smile. “You’re right on time.”

  Rush handed him his notepad. “I’m going to wind up short, sir.” His gut was starting to hurt again. “I’ll have to forget about this semester and get a job.” If he wasn’t a Pulaski and Jasper student, would he be able to stay in the room he was renting?

  Professor Borders was shaking his head. “We both know that if you leave school at this point, the odds of you returning are slim. You’ll become so wrapped up in trying to survive in the real world that your plans for furthering your education will go by the wayside.”

  “But I—”

  The professor held up a hand. “I have an idea to get you some additional moneys. I believe I saw in your personal statement letter when you applied to this college that you were a Boy Scout?”

  “Yes. I actually made Eagle Scout, and I assisted my troop leader for my last two years as a scout.”

  “Excellent. I know of a grant for former Boy Scouts. It’s not a lot, but if I recall correctly, it should cover your books. Tell me. Do you have any relatives who were Freemasons?”

  “My grandfather. My mother’s father.”

  “Splendid. That should provide enough for your room and meals. There’s also a codicil in an alumnus’s will that should give you some spending money. You won’t have to leave school.”

  “But Professor Borders, what am I going to do for this semester’s tuition? The Edmund Kirby Smith Grant will pay for it as long as I’m a full-time student, but even if I only take the minimum of nine semester hours, not all the classes I need to take are being offered this semester.”

  “Then we’ll find another class for you to take. I see you have a minor in accounting. How does Advanced Accounting sound to you? I know Dory Curtis’s class isn’t full.”

  “That sounds really great.” He’d always liked figures and had a way with them. In a perfect world, he would be getting his master’s degree in accounting. “I can’t thank you enough, Professor Borders.” Rush blinked rapidly and looked away.

  Professor Borders cleared his throat gruffly. “Now, get this paperwork filled out, young man, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

  ***

  WOW, THIS year went fast.

  Thanks to his major professor, Rush was on track with his degree in bioengineering—just one more year to go.

  However, in spite of the fact that he no longer had to take any additional courses, he’d enjoyed accounting too much to give it up.

  That was one of the reasons why today saw Rush hurrying down the corridor of James Jackson Hall, the building that housed the accounting department of Pulaski and Jasper College.

  But… why had Dr. Reynolds, the chairman of the department, sent for him?

  “Hi, Rush.” Coming from the opposite direction was January Stephens. She was a senior who was in his advanced accounting class.

  “Hi, Jan.”

  January was a pretty, petite, and vivacious blonde, and all the guys in the class had taken one look at her and tried to impress her with their numeric expertise. Jan had smiled and treated them all with the same sisterly friendliness.

  Rush was a little surprised to realize that while her dimpled smile always made him smile in return, he had no desire to ask her out on a date.

  Which was probably just as well, he thought. They were study buddies who had become friends, and if a romance had blossomed between them, it would have complicated things.

  Besides, Rush had no desire to get thumped. Jan was dating the captain of the football team. The guy was an asshole who treated her like a possession, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Rush knew she was trying to smooth out her accent in order to please him.

  “Are y’all goin’—” She sighed. “Are you going in to see Dr. Reynolds, too?”

  “Yes. Do you have any idea what he wants?”

  She was excited in a subdued manner. “Professor Curtis said somethin’—something—about the owner of a construction company needing an accounting major to do some work for him.”

  “But I’m not majoring in accounting.”

  “You want to quarrel with the powers that be?” She gave a saucy grin. “It probably won’t pay much, but we both can use the money.” She was also using grants and scholarships and student loans to fund her way through college.

  “True.” Rush wondered again why her grin didn’t do anything for him. If a girl as pretty as Jan had smiled at him like that in high school, or even in his first years in UGA, he would have dissolved into a puddle of goo, and they would have had to mop him up off the floor.

  While he’d dated a little in high school, the girl he’d lost his virginity to, Josie Brown, had been tall, gangly, and myopic, and hadn’t been able to get a date with anyone else. Rush hadn’t really been interested in her as a girl, but they’d become good friends. They studied together, saw the occasional movie, and had sex when they both were drunk enough. The relationship, such as it was, kept his parents from questioning him too closely about his social life beyond his father instructing him not to get her pregnant.

  And then during their first year in college, Josie had suddenly blossomed. Her figure filled out, her skin cleared up, and she began wearing contacts and having her hair styled by an upscale beautician. All the boys started panting after her, even the jocks. Reveling in the newfound attention, she’d left Rush behind.

  Not that Rush minded. It gave him the perfect excuse to stop dating. The girls thought he was pining over his girl and considered it romantic, and the guys just shrugged, telling each other they’d never be so dumb as to let a girl do that to them. After a time they were all so used to seeing Rush dateless, that no one questioned it.

  He questioned it, though. He was certain his interest in gay sex had just been a passing fancy, but he’d noticed for some time—even before he’d come to Pulaski and Jasper—that he’d had no real interest in any of the coeds he saw on either campus.

  He shook his head. You’ve got a lot on your plate, buddy. It makes sense that dating isn’t at the top of your list of things that must be done.

  When he’d gotten horny, he’d simply jerked off. It was less messy. He gnawed his lip, thinking of the images he’d jerked off to. He wasn’t gay. He just—

  “Earth to Rush. You in there, boy?” Jan tapped his forehead, giving him a concerned look.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say, Jan?”

  “I said, ‘You and me, Rush, we’re the best in his class.’”

  “Right up there with Brandon Alexander.”

  “Who thinks he’s God’s gift to the accountin’ world.” Jan scowled. Rush knew Alexander had hit on her before he realized whom she was dating.

  “I wonder why he wasn’t offered the job.” Professor Curtis was a great instructor, but Rush knew that Alexander was one of her favorite students.

  “Maybe somebody got wise to what a creep he really is?”

  “He�
�s too smart to let any of the professors see his true colors.”

  Alexander was tall, well-built, and good-looking, but he liked nothing better than to take potshots at any student he deemed beneath him, either physically or academically. Rush was quiet and minded his own business, but he knew sooner or later Alexander would come after him.

  “One of these days….”

  “One can but hope.” Rush held out his hand. “Well, may the best man win,” he teased.

  “Best woman, you mean!” Jan lightly punched his arm.

  “How about if we just say, ‘may the best accountant win?’”

  They shook hands, and Rush knocked on Dr. Reynolds’s door, opened it, and allowed Jan to enter before him.

  “Ms. Stephens. Mr. Dalton. Thank you for being so prompt. This is Tom Weber. He used to teach chemistry here at Pulaski and Jasper, but now he’s the office manager for Jackson Construction Company.”

  “How do you do?” The man who rose politely to greet them was an inch or so shorter than Rush. He wore casual clothes—black trousers and a blue and black patterned shirt, the throat unbuttoned to display a black T-shirt under it. The rolled cuffs bared muscled forearms that were dusted with fair hair. The hair on his head was so fair it appeared to be platinum blond, and he had blue eyes that verged on aquamarine.

  He shook Jan’s hand and then Rush’s. His palm was warm and smooth and his grip firm but not overpowering. Those blue eyes seemed to look into Rush’s soul.

  “Mr. Weber.” Rush cleared his throat and swallowed, surprised when he felt his dick twitch. What didn’t surprise him was Jan’s disinterest in the man. Jan only had eyes for her football-player boyfriend. Why am I reacting like this to a man I’ve just met?

  He really wasn’t prepared to examine the answer to that, although maybe it had to do with the time and distance between him and his family.

  “Sit down, please,” Dr. Reynolds said, and Rush dropped into a chair quickly, hoping no one would notice his response to Tom Weber. “I know you two must be curious as to why I asked you both here.”

  “Professor Curtis said something about the possibility of a part-time job?” Jan murmured.

  “Dory never could keep her mouth shut,” Mr. Weber laughed. “Yes, Jack Jackson, who’s my partner, and I decided we could use some additional help in the office. I’ve been looking over your records, and you’ve both got excellent qualifications. Professor Curtis has nothing but high praise for you, as does Dr. Reynolds and Professor Borders. Originally I was only going to offer one of you the position, but I think I’d like to hire you both.” He named a figure that had Rush’s eyes widening.

  He stole a glance at Jan, to see she was as taken aback as he was. They hadn’t been expecting much above minimum wage.

  “What will the job entail, Mr. Weber?” Rush was hesitant to jump in with both feet until he knew more. He could use the money the job would provide, and he knew Jan wanted the job too, but she’d had more experience with that sort of thing, and she’d told him horror stories of some of the jobs she’d held.

  “I’ll need you to answer the phones and do general accounting tasks. You’d be working twenty hours a week from my home, and you can schedule your hours around your courses. If you’re interested, I think you’ll both be worthwhile additions to our staff.” His eyes glinted with mischief, and Rush wondered what the joke was. Then Weber grew serious. “Before you decide to accept this job, there is one thing I want you to be aware of. I’m gay.”

  Oh! Rush felt a funny flip in his insides and wondered if his ulcer was about to act up again. He waited to hear what else the man had to say, and when nothing more was forthcoming, asked quietly, “Why would that have anything to do with our jobs?”

  “It wouldn’t.” Mr. Weber’s lips tightened, and Rush couldn’t take his eyes off them—the lush lower lip, the bow of the upper one. After a second, he forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes. “But there was another student who couldn’t deal with it, and I had to let him go. If this will be a problem for either of you, please walk out the door now. There will be no hard feelings and no repercussions.”

  Rush met Jan’s eyes, and she shook her head.

  “It’s fine by us, Mr. Weber.”

  He studied them for a few moments, and then nodded. “Okay. Why don’t you come by after your last class? I’ll show you around, and you can stay for dinner and meet the rest of the gang. If everything goes well, we can decide what will be the best days for you to work, and you can start then.” He gave them the address.

  “I know where that is. I’ll drive.” Jan wasn’t a Savannah native, but she’d lived there for the past four years. Rush smiled. He would have offered, but even after all this time, he still had no car. “You’ve got a lab this afternoon, don’t you, Rush?”

  “Yes, for Advanced Computing in Biomedical Engineering.”

  “I’ll meet you in the student parkin’—parking lot at four thirty, then. We should get to your house by about five, Mr. Weber. Is that okay with you?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Thanks very much, sir.” Rush extended his hand, and this time he felt something like an electric shock as his palm connected with Mr. Weber’s. His mouth went dry, and although he’d intended to say, “We’ll see you later,” he couldn’t get another word out.

  “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Weber.” Jan poked him, and he frowned at her before turning back to Mr. Weber.

  “Yes, it was nice meeting you, sir.”

  As Rush and Jan left the chairman’s office, they heard their prospective boss say, “Nice, polite kids, just like Jack’s son and daughter. You’ve got good students here, Ed.”

  “Unlike when you taught here?”

  A wry chuckle greeted that, and then the door closed, and the rest of the conversation was shut out.

  Rush flushed hard. He glanced sideways at Jan, but she didn’t seem to be disturbed by being referred to as a “kid,” even though she was a few years younger than Rush. Maybe she hadn’t heard him?

  Rush simply wanted this man to see at him as an adult, not a kid. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he thought Mr. Weber was so striking-looking.

  “Do you think he offered the job to Brandon first?” Jan asked.

  “It makes sense if Dr. Reynolds went alphabetically.”

  “I suppose. If he had the job, I don’t understand how come he doesn’t any longer.”

  Rush was pretty sure he knew. Alexander was a homophobic shit who’d never made any effort to conceal his beliefs. “Ass-fucking faggots are all gonna fry in hell,” was one of his more restrained comments.

  Jan shook her head. “Well, I’ve got English Lit. See you later.”

  She walked down the corridor, and Rush stared after her, but he was not seeing the sway of her slender hips, he was picturing a fair-haired, blue-eyed man.

  ***

  “ARE WE KEEPING you from something, Mr. Dalton?”

  Rush colored up. The professor had caught him stealing another glance at the clock on the wall.

  “No, sir. Sorry.” Rush usually enjoyed the computer labs, enjoyed the hands-on experience, but for some reason, on this day, time was really dragging.

  “Yes, well, I suggest you complete the exercise while you still have time. It will represent ten percent of your grade.”

  The students groaned, Rush included, and silence once again ruled the room, broken only by the tapping of the keyboards.

  Finally the professor said, “All right, time’s up. Send your results to my computer, and then you can log out. I’ll see you all on Monday.”

  “Hey, Rush, what’s the hurry?”

  “Gotta run, man. Job interview.”

  “Good luck.”

  But he was already out the door.

  ***

  “THIS IS FANTASTIC, Mr. Weber,�
� Jan enthused. The outer office, where Rush and Jan would work, was large enough for two desks, a wall of file cabinets, and another wall with shelves for almost as many office supplies as could be found in Staples or Office Max. The computers on each desk were top-of-the-line. They had flat panel monitors with seventeen-inch screens, three-gigabyte hard drives—Mr. Weber must have had them upgraded, because the ones at Pulaski and Jasper only ran one-gigabyte—and every software program they could possibly need to do the job.

  Tom Weber smiled at Jan. “I’m glad it meets with your approval.”

  Jan offered a vivid smile in return. Rush wondered what it would have been like if Mr. Weber had smiled at him like that.

  “Come take a look at my office.” Mr. Weber led them through a connecting door.

  The room was at least three times the size of their office. In addition to a fax machine and copier/scanner, there was a computer that was so high-tech, other computers wanted to be it when they grew up, state-of-the-art stereo equipment, a leather couch, chairs scattered around the room, more filing and storage space, and through a door in the far wall, Rush could make out exercise equipment.

  “Mr. Weber, would you adopt me?” Jan asked cheekily.

  He laughed, and Rush felt that odd flutter in his gut again.

  The intercom on the desk buzzed, and Mr. Weber pressed a button. “Yes?”

  “Dinner’s ready, JT.”

  “We’ll be right there, Rebecca.” He turned to them and smiled. “Rebecca Jackson, Jack’s daughter.”

  “She calls you JT?” Jan asked.

  Rush waited to see how Mr. Weber would react. Jan could be a little nosy. Sometimes people looked at her blonde hair and blue eyes and smiled indulgently. Other times they disregarded her prettiness and frowned at her, and for a little while her shoulders would droop, and she would stare at the world with wounded eyes. But she bounced back and never stopped asking questions that could be seen as none of her business.

  “That’s short for Jack’s Tom.” Mr. Weber grinned, his teeth very white. He nodded toward the photos on the wall: one of a blonde girl on a horse and another of a blond boy in a batting stance. Between the two photos was an oil painting of a big, blond man who was obviously their father. He straddled a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Leaning against the big blond, almost dwarfed by him, was Mr. Weber, his legs crossed at the ankle and his arms folded across his chest. “The children were very well brought up. I couldn’t see them calling me Mr. Tom.” He chuckled. “Uncle Tom sounded like a pre-Civil War era character, while UT sounded like a partial urinary tract infection.”