Chapter 2
“Hey.”
Leigh glanced up from her notebook to see Dean towering over her. She measured him mentally. He had to be close to six and a half feet tall. Today, like most days, he was wearing jeans and a jersey with a thick coat over it. Unlike most days, he was holding a steaming mug of coffee, which he plunked down on the table. He didn’t look thrilled to be here.
“Hey,” she said evenly, determined to start out nice. “Have a seat.”
“We’re going to have to make this fast. I don’t have long,” he replied, dropping into the seat across from her and crossing his arms across his chest.
“Luckily for you, I have some ideas written down. As soon as we get something worked out, you can go back to...whatever it is you do.” Okay, maybe she wasn’t going to be totally nice. But at least she wouldn’t be mean.
“Win games?” Dean suggested. “That’s what I usually do, anyway.”
“Okay.” Leigh shuffled her pages, making sure that he could see her total lack of interest. “My first idea has to do with the importance of good counseling and mental health services for children in foster care.” She glanced up at him. He sipped his coffee without making any comments. “All right. My second suggestion has to do with domestic violence shelters.”
She ran through the entire list of fifteen subjects that she’d made before going to bed last night. He didn’t say a word.
“Well?” she demanded after several long moments of silence. There was no way that he hated all of them.
“What?”
She took a long drink of her coffee and prayed for patience. “What did you think? What ideas did you hate? What ideas did you like? What interests you?”
Dean shrugged. “Just pick one. I don’t really care.”
“Pretend that you do,” Leigh said through clenched teeth. “You’re going to be dealing with the subject for six weeks; I don’t want to hear any bitching if you don’t like it once we’ve started.”
Dean rearranged himself, stretching his long legs out and putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “Here’s the thing. I’m not going to have a lot of time to work on this with you. So it really doesn’t matter.” He smirked at her. “I doubt we’ll be having coffee again anytime soon.”
Anger at the insinuation had her skin flushing. Did he honestly think that she’d suggested this because she wanted to go out with him? “The only reason I suggested getting coffee was because I didn’t feel like waiting around for you to decide to call me!”
The grin widened. “Impatient?”
Leigh grabbed her spare set of notes and stood up, shoving them against his chest on her way to the door. “Only impatient to be done. Meet me back here in 3 days. With some ideas this time.”
“Hang on,” he called after her, but she kept going. Helping someone was one thing. Babysitting them was something else.
As she walked across the parking lot, her phone rang. She sighed, hoping that it wasn’t someone calling in. She really needed to get some study hours logged. To her pleased surprise, the call was from her dad.
“Hey there, Princess.”
She tried to inject some cheer into her voice. “Hey, Dad!”
“What’s wrong?”
It hadn’t worked. She could practically hear his parental antenna go up. She smiled and shook her head. She’d never been able to hide anything from the man.
“Nothing really,” she assured him. “Just group project issues.”
“The usual kind, or something different?”
She thought it over. Her heart was still beating a little too hard, but she strove to be logical. She wasn’t going to let Dean Harper get to her like this. “I guess the usual kind. I got paired with a guy who expects me to do all the work.”
Jack Dixon laughed. “How’s that going for him?”
Leigh’s lips tugged into a smile. “Not great.”
“And what’s his excuse for not working?”
“He plays football.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dean. His last name is--”
“Harper?” Jack asked, sounding a bit interested. “The running back?”
“Actually, yeah.” Leigh frowned slightly. “How’d you know that?”
“A couple of the guys I work with have a fantasy football thing going on,” Jack answered. “His stats are amazing. He could really go somewhere if he keeps it together.”
“I’m starting to feel like you’re on his side,” Leigh informed her father.
Jack laughed. “You know I’m backing you, kiddo. But he is under a lot of pressure. He’s the best player this team’s seen in years and he’s pretty much the glue holding their championship hopes together at this point. Do you think that scheduling might be an issue?”
Leigh chewed her lower lip. She had no idea what his practice schedule was like. She didn’t even know the game schedule, honestly. And she hadn’t asked. “Maybe.”
“It might be something to consider,” Jack replied. “Maybe next time you get together, ask him about what he needs to devote enough time to the project. Remember, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. If that doesn’t work, then you can always give him a swift kick in the pants.”
She laughed. “Good point.”
“I know you can do it, Princess.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
She hung up feeling much better than the she had when she’d left the coffee house. More flies with honey...she’d lay it on thick enough to drown the guy if it kept her grades up.