The Beauty Queen's Makeover. Teresa Southwick
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night in college. He’d worn down her defenses with his charming verbal assault and she hoped she didn’t regret her decision. Still, she trusted him and for the life of her she couldn’t explain why.
But she didn’t need a mirror to know she was grinning from ear to ear. Defenses be damned. For the first time in a long time she was looking forward to an evening with a very charming and attractive man.
Nate was anticipating dinner with Katie that night and nearly missed the turn for the Italian restaurant where he’d agreed to meet Sandra Westport for lunch. He’d thought getting her phone number would be difficult until he talked to his paralegal, Rachel James. Nate had given her some time off to assist Professor Gilbert in locating a former student who might be able to help save his job at the university. She didn’t know it yet, but her time off would be with full pay even though suspicious Sandra had enlisted her support in her crusade for the truth. Whatever that was. At least Rachel had a phone number for the woman.
He parked and went inside, the smell of garlic and spices making his mouth water. Skipping breakfast did that to a guy. When he explained he was meeting someone, the hostess showed him to an outside table where Sandra was already waiting, sipping an iced tea.
While he’d been nosing around Saunders U, he’d seen her. Their paths had crossed in the last couple weeks and fortunately she hadn’t remembered him from college. But he couldn’t forget the beautiful blond, blue-eyed cheerleader who’d hung out at the Alpha Omega fraternity house with David Westport, her boyfriend. He wondered how much she remembered from that time. Did she know that he’d rigged the house’s security cameras to film in the bedrooms? And would the curious woman going after a good man like the professor believe Nate had been duped into using his expertise to do it?
Joining that boys-will-be-boys society was something else he wished he could forget. How in God’s name had his past become so littered with regrets? Where was the guy with dreams of using his knowledge and skills for people in trouble who desperately needed it? Officially that’s what he did, but only someone in trouble who could afford his exorbitantly high fee. How had he gone so far off his original path?
He pushed the thoughts away and braced for hurricane Sandra. He held out his hand. “Sandra? Nate Williams.”
Her eyes widened. “Nate Williams? You loaned me your handkerchief.”
“When you were crying,” he remembered. “I hope everything is better now.”
“Williams,” she said. “That’s what the W was for. I’ve been calling you Mr. W.”
“That works. Thanks for meeting me.” He sat.
“Fortunately you caught me on a Friday. The only other days I come into Saunders are Monday and Wednesday.”
That was still enough time to do the professor damage, unless he could convince her to abandon her crusade. “Have you already ordered?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. But I know for a fact that the food is great. David and I have eaten here and I highly recommend the pasta primavera. Unless a macho guy like you needs his daily ration of raw meat.”
He wondered if the barb indicated she was aware of his high-profile profession. When she didn’t say more, he ignored it. And he was grateful she apparently didn’t remember that in his fraternity days he was the overweight geek in the corner, hibernating and hoping no one would notice him. These days he always made healthy food choices. It was easier with money. Almost everything was.
“That sounds good to me.” He ordered for them, then met her gaze. “How are you and David?”
She looked radiant. “We couldn’t be better.”
“Tell me about the two of you.”
“We have a family. Twins. Molly unfortunately inherited my naturally curly hair and Michael favors David with his black hair.”
“That’s great. Twins must be a challenge.”
“Yes. But I love it. Takes some doing to juggle motherhood with my job at the newspaper. So right now I just do small-town stuff. David coaches Little League and soccer for our kids’ teams. Once an athlete, always an athlete. Passing those good physical genes on to the next generation. Although how that translates into Ping-Pong is anyone’s guess.”
“Excuse me?”
She laughed. “The twins have their hearts set on being the first brother-sister Ping-Pong team in the Olympics.”
“Goals are good.”
“And to pay for those goals we own a small grocery in the North End of Boston. Which is probably way more information than you wanted.” She took a breath. “And what about you?”
“I’m a lawyer. My office isn’t far from where your store is.”
“So you’re an attorney,” she said, studying him closely.
“Yes.” He tensed, waiting for the “aha” moment. The instant when she recognized him from some press conference for a high-profile case he’d handled or a news segment analyzing his courtroom performance. He hoped Nickelodeon trumped nightly news in her house. When she didn’t say anything, he allowed himself to relax.
“Did you always want to be an attorney?”
He nodded and relaxed a little more. Anyone who really knew him from college would remember that.
“Do you like what you’re doing?”
“Do you always ask so many questions?”
She smiled. “It’s a reporter thing.”
“Is your vendetta against Professor Harrison a reporter thing?” Nate asked.
“It’s a reporter’s responsibility to search out the truth.”
“No matter who gets hurt?”
She sighed. “I look at it like going to the doctor. Sometimes it hurts, but knowing what’s going on always brings you peace of mind in the long run.”
“I disagree.” He didn’t want anyone knowing what was really going on with him. Especially Katie. “So, what have you got against the professor?”
Frowning, Sandra leaned forward. “Are you asking specifically? Or just inquiring about my general motivation?”
“Either. Both.” Nate lifted one shoulder. “Whatever you want to tell me.”
“I’m simply trying to learn the truth.”
“Even if it costs him the career he loves? A way of life that’s all he has since his wife died?”
“There’s something strange going on with him, Nate.”
“Define ‘something.’”
“I’ve been digging—”
“From what I hear, you could be halfway to China.”
She smiled. “Very funny. The thing is, I’m finding some disturbing patterns in the professor’s behavior.”
The waiter appeared and set their plates of pasta in front of them. When they were alone again, Nate met her gaze. “What kind of patterns?”
“Let me start with David. He’s a gifted athlete, and a very intelligent man—”
“I can see you’re not prejudiced,” Nate commented, noting the glow of love that sparkled in her blue eyes. A hollow feeling opened wide in the center of his chest because a man like himself could never hope for what she had—love and a family.
She grinned. “Not me. I’m into the facts. The fact is, I love my husband.”
“I envy you.”
“Don’t sidetrack me.”
“Okay. So you were saying that David’s a rocket scientist,” he