The Beauty Queen's Makeover. Teresa Southwick

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The Beauty Queen's Makeover - Teresa Southwick


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of a mysterious benefactor.”

      The professor had mentioned that. “Do you know who this person is?”

      “That’s what I’m trying to find out. I’ve come across more records and found some troubling irregularities.”

      “So what does that have to do with the professor?”

      She frowned. “I haven’t found a solid link, at least not on paper. But in every instance of an undeserved scholarship or pulling strings in some way, the person involved was mentored by Professor Harrison.”

      “That’s not proof of anything. It’s coincidence. Circumstantial.”

      “Tell me about it. But he’s the common denominator. The link to this mysterious patron.”

      “I don’t get it, Sandra. Someone is doing good—like the Lone Ranger—and you’re looking to lynch him from the highest tree.”

      “It’s never okay to do the wrong thing, even if it’s for the right reason. There are rules and they’re meant to be followed. As a lawyer, I’m surprised you’d even question something so basic.”

      That’s because she didn’t know him. “As a lawyer I know everything isn’t always black and white. There’s a lot of gray areas, which is why we’ve got judges.”

      She put down her fork and studied him closely. “Hmm.”

      “What?” he asked sharply.

      “You remind me of someone. I thought so the couple times I saw you on campus and I can’t shake the feeling now.”

      Oh, for crying out loud. Did she mean the geek he used to be? Or the high-profile defense attorney he was now? If she remembered either one it was bad news.

      “They say everyone has a double.”

      “I’ve heard that.”

      Time to change the subject and one of his favorites was Katie. “Do you remember Kathryn Price?”

      Instantly she looked up and frowned. “Do I? College beauty queen. Model on her way to superstardom. Yeah, I remember her.”

      “What’s wrong?”

      “David and I decided to start a camp for disadvantaged children.”

      “Wow.”

      “Yeah. He felt guilty about that scholarship he didn’t deserve, and then wasted. So together we came up with the camp idea to use his strengths and talents as sort of cosmic payback for the gift he once received.”

      “That’s a great idea.”

      She smiled. “We think so.”

      “But?” he prompted.

      “We need funding to get it off the ground and decided to impose on our college ties with Kathryn Price. I contacted her through her agent to be the celebrity face for our project and get the donations going.”

      “What happened?”

      “She refused.” Her mouth pulled tight. “Rachel James got just a glimpse of her here in Saunders.”

      “Rachel is my paralegal.”

      “Small world,” Sandra said.

      “Yeah. So what did she say?”

      “She said Kathryn was wearing a scarf covering most of her face.”

      “And big sunglasses?” he asked.

      “Maybe. Rachel didn’t mention that. But she said the wind lifted the scarf enough to see there was something wrong with her face.”

      “So that explains why she turned you down.”

      “No, it doesn’t. Her agent said she refused to even hear the details. So we never got a chance to pitch the idea. I can’t help thinking she’s turned into a snob.”

      Anger churned in his gut. “For someone who preaches the truth above everything, you’re certainly jumping to conclusions.”

      She looked surprised. “Oh?”

      He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “There could be a thousand reasons she turned you down.”

      “Like what?”

      “She’s out of the country on a shoot. She doesn’t like sports. She doesn’t like you or David. She’s busy with a hundred other philanthropic projects that are more near and dear to her heart. Like ballet. Or basket weaving. Or sand sculpture.”

      Sandra looked surprised. “Wow.”

      Wow, indeed. When did he forget to censor everything that came out of his mouth? He’d learned to do it in college when any slip could result in being the butt of a painful joke. As a lawyer, the health of his career depended on editing his thoughts, words and deeds. But just now, he’d worn his heart on his sleeve. Not smart, Williams, he thought.

      “I guess I know where you’re coming from,” Sandra said.

      “You do?”

      “Yeah. I’d say that was a typical male reaction to an incredibly beautiful woman.”

      “Oh.” Good. He wasn’t busted after all. “The thing is, I ran into Katie—Kathryn. I happen to know she has a good reason for turning you down.”

      “And what would it be? Surely not sand sculpture,” she said wryly.

      “No.” He laughed sheepishly. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

      “You know that just makes a reporter more curious and determined.”

      “I know.” Snooping reporters were the bane of his existence. But Katie was none of her business. “All I’ll say is that she’s fragile and needs a little time. You need to cut her some slack.”

      He hoped that didn’t pique her journalist’s curiosity and get her off the professor only to go after Katie. “Look, Sandra, I came here to convince you to leave Professor Harrison alone. He’s only ever wanted to help students. I think this witch hunt is wrong after all he’s done.”

      “Wrong has been done, all right. Students who had the credentials to receive those scholarships were victimized. What about justice for them?”

      He read the determination in her expression and knew when he was hitting his head against the wall. “So I can’t convince you to back off?”

      “Not on a bet.”

      “Okay. Then let me help you.”

      “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

      “So I can prove you’re wrong about him. That he didn’t do anything improper.”

      “You’re on.” She nodded emphatically. “I’ve got a ton of files to go through. As an attorney, you should be into file minutiae.”

      “Yeah,” he groaned. “I live for the opportunity to look for a needle in a haystack.”

      “I’ll give you a stack to go through. The thing is, Nate,” she said sincerely, “if he acted dishonestly, he should pay the price.”

      “Even if good came out of it? Wrong thing, right reason?”

      “It’s still wrong.”

      The pasta primavera settled like a stone in Nate’s stomach. Her words felt like an indictment of his own life. He represented felons. Not an especially noble profession. He wasn’t the man his grandmother had raised and she wouldn’t be proud of what he’d become. He wasn’t particularly proud of himself, either, and hadn’t been for a long time. It never mattered before, but it did now.

      Because of Katie.

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