The Beauty Queen's Makeover. Teresa Southwick
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“Others do so they don’t put a client on the witness stand and risk perjury or self-incrimination. I prefer to know the good, bad and ugly up front because I don’t like surprises.”
The professor glanced away as he said, “They’re looking for a way to get rid of me. I think some of it is about my age.”
Kathryn met Nate’s gaze. “Age discrimination is illegal, though, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
For the first time since she saw him, Professor Harrison smiled. “Smart girl.”
“Thank you.” Kathryn glowed at the compliment. Not everyone had looked past her face to give her IQ the benefit of the doubt. From now on, she thought, brains were going to have to be enough.
The professor leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “No one has come right out and said anything directly about my age. They’re saying I’m unprofessional. Can’t be such a ‘pal’ to the students. Can’t hold their hand. They’re in college now. Teachers have to keep a certain distance. Liability issues and such.”
“They’re wrong.” Kathryn’s heart went out to him. “It’s a style thing. If I remember right, your approach was that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Many students owe you a lot.”
“I’m one of them,” Nate said. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if not for you.”
“So you’re happy with the way things turned out?” the professor asked.
“Of course,” Nate said automatically. “But I still don’t understand why you sent for us.”
The professor sighed as his faded brown eyes regarded them gravely. “I was hoping some of my former students would come back and put in a good word for me.”
“We’d be happy to,” Kathryn said, glancing up at Nate, who nodded agreement. “But how will that help?”
“A good question. Especially with Sandra Westport stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
“Sir?” Nate said, clearly puzzled. It was one single, respectful form of address to get the older man back on track.
“I’m sorry. That’s another story. I was hoping you could simply tell the board that my method of teaching made a difference. That the career path you’ve chosen is of benefit to mankind and might not have happened but for my guidance and educational support.”
“You want us to make them believe you have wings, a halo and walk on water?” Nate said wryly.
A smile pulled at the corners of the professor’s mouth. “Is that so very far from the truth?”
“Just a little,” Nate said, holding up his thumb and forefinger close together.
“I wouldn’t dream of putting words in your mouth. But, I do hope I’ve been of some help in setting you on your paths. One likes to think it made a difference.” He looked sad, suddenly, and miserable. “I’ve dedicated my life to teaching. Being around young people has always been very important to me and it’s all I have now.”
“That can’t be true,” Kathryn protested.
“But, it is, you see. My wife died not long ago. And I haven’t always been…” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he sighed. “I feel as if I’ve lost so much. I don’t think I could bear it if my job—my career were taken away, as well. There’s so much more good I can do. I’m hoping that they’ll see what I’ve accomplished and show leniency and compassion.”
Nate frowned. “No one knows words like an English professor,” he commented. “You’re the best teacher I ever had. I swear you made me memorize the Ninth Collegiate Dictionary from cover to cover.”
Another fleeting grin from the old man. “You’re exaggerating, my boy.”
“Only a little. But I know firsthand your intricate understanding of words and knack for choosing just the right one. You were forever after me to put a finer point on whatever I was trying to convey.”
“And what is it you’re trying to convey now, Nate?”
“That leniency is an odd choice of words for a man who’s above suspicion.”
“You always were too bright for your own good,” the professor mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Kathryn asked, his words giving her a bad feeling.
He shook his head. “Just that no one is perfect. Everyone has regrets, things they wish it were possible to go back and change.”
Kathryn knew he was right. If she had it to do over, she’d never have dated Ted Hawkins in college. Professor Gilbert had tried to warn her, but she hadn’t listened. Then it was too late. The thought made her shiver, making her angry with herself. She tried so hard to bury all this. Yet here she was acting as if it had happened yesterday.
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Nate commented, echoing her thoughts. “And regrets are not an actionable offense.”
“He’s right,” Kathryn agreed, shaking off her own demons.
“I like being right.” He grinned down at her, then it faded. When his glance went to the older man, he shifted nervously. “But without knowing specifics of the allegations, I’m not sure what I can say in your defense.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t be more specific,” the professor protested. He looked down at his hands, folded on his desk. “It’s all very complicated. But there’s someone involved—a…a benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous.”
“Like the Lone Ranger?” Nate asked.
“Hardly that heroic,” the professor said. “No mask. No silver bullets or white stallions. This person simply helped students. Made it possible for some to receive an education who might not otherwise have been able to attend college. That sort of thing.”
“And he doesn’t want to be thanked?” Kathryn asked.
“I never said it was a ‘he.’” The professor’s tone was sharp. “I’m sorry. I simply cannot say anything else. I won’t break a confidence.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Nate. “And I understand you’ve become very adept at getting people to let unintended information slip.”
“It’s my job to ask questions,” Nate said, the words clipped. “That’s what attorneys do.”
“And isn’t it lucky for the professor that you are one,” Kathryn said, wondering what was going on between the two men. “He might need legal counsel if this goes any further.”
“If Sandra Westport has her way it will go very far.”
“You mentioned her before,” Kathryn commented. “What is she doing?”
“Her husband, David, was one of my students. They met here at Saunders and fell in love. Now they own a store in Boston and she’s a journalist for her small, hometown newspaper. Unfortunately her nose for news has her sniffing my way.” The professor sighed. “She’s inordinately curious about what she calls ‘the mysterious patron.’ This is a very sensitive time for me. While my job is in jeopardy, it would be better if she ceased her inquiries. The uproar she’s creating is channeling suspicion toward me. Not that she’ll find anything,” he hastily added.
“Maybe Nate could help,” Kathryn suggested. The words popped out before a cohesive thought had formed in her mind. But the idea had merit. He was an attorney. It was his job to sway opinion. “Maybe he could talk to Sandra Westport and convince her to drop her investigation.”
Nate met her gaze, then nodded at the professor. “Of course. Whatever I can do.”
Kathryn sighed. “You’re a wonderful role model and mentor, Professor Harrison. You’re the first person who challenged me. The first who made me consider