Page 64 of Kismet

“There is a literary convention next weekend. I would’ve told you about it sooner, but I just learned about it.”

I can do nothing but stare at him, blinking, for several moments. “You want to take me to a convention?” I deadpan.

“No! No. Sorry, I should’ve started there. I’m seeing if you wanted to attend… without me. Stella is going too. It’s in Fort Worth. You guys could drive down together… or not. It’s just a really great opportunity for a new professor.”

“Oh, uh.” Now I feel like an idiot for jumping to conclusions. Why the fuck would the dean of the university take time out of his fucking weekend to go to a convention? Dumbass. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’ll reach out to Stella and finalize the details. It’s this weekend?”

“Yes. Okay. Glad you’re going to go. I think it’ll be good for you. And Stella has been to several of these over the years.”

I wish I didn’t notice how fucking hot he looks standing in front of my desk. He’s wearing a gray suit that, as fucking always, looks tailored perfectly to his sexy ass body. A cognac tie is wrapped around his neck, and his unruly black locks are tamed and slicked back. I also can’t help but notice his ring finger is missing something.

Interesting.

“Thanks for letting me know,” I finally reply after too long.

“You’re welcome.” He turns on his heel and starts toward the door, before stopping and spinning around. “Uh, hey. Can we talk—”

He’s cut off my students walking into the room, and I’m saved by the metaphorical bell.

“Have a good day, Dean Philips,” I say tersely, a forced smile on my face. I don’t miss the disappointment that flashes across his face before he nods and leaves.

“Hey, guys! How was your weekend?” I ask the students who walked in.

And just like that, I have to force the goddamn dean out of my mind and continue on with my day… which drags on painfully slow. By the time I’m done with classes, I could use a stiff drink or two. As I’m walking out to my car, I spot just the person I’m needing to speak with walking toward me, a flirty smile plastered on her face.

“Hey, Stella. How was your day?”

“Hi, Cash! My day was great. How was yours?”

“Long, but not too bad.” We make it to my car, and I pop my trunk, shoving the box inside that I was carrying.

“How was the rest of your weekend? We were sad to see you leave so early Friday.” She pushes her bottom lip out into a pout, probably thinking she looks adorable.

She doesn’t.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I think what I ate for dinner just didn’t sit right with me. The rest of my weekend was uneventful. Speaking of weekends, I spoke with St—the dean today about the literary convention next weekend. He said you’re going?”

This seems to cheer her right up. “I am! Are you going?”

“I think so. I went to one my senior year of undergrad with… a professor I was an aide for. It was interesting. Want to drive together?”

“Oh my gosh! I would love to! Do you have classes on Fridays?”

“Yeah, but only one. I can be ready to leave town around ten in the morning. Does that work for you?”

“That’s perfect. I’m looking forward to it now.”

I get the feeling that she has a crush on me. Or maybe she’s flirty with everyone. Hopefully, it’s the latter, because I’m not interested.

“Great. Well, I’ll talk to you later. Have a great night, Stella.” I wave and climb into my car, turning on the ignition. That drive is going to be awkward, I’m sure, but the weekend will be informative and worth it.

I hope.

******

Stone Philips

“So, you’re telling me you tricked him into going to this convention you’re attending?”

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