Page 5 of Silent Comrade
That specific breathy sigh coming from Britthad him checking her, and he caught her quick smirk and scrunchednose. Then she faced forward, studiously ignoring anyone but thepacing professor.
“That was amazing,” the hair-tosser next tohim whispered, resting her hand on his wrist. Her too-long nailsscraped with tiny pings over his jacket sleeve. “About time someoneput Professor Durbin in place. You’resosmart. Maybe youcould tutor me.”
He pulled away, leaving her to tug on astrand of hair. For real. Here, in this classroom, had she pulledout that line? He tried for a polite and curt nod, hoping she’d getthe point. A few seconds passed.
“Well?” she said.
He tried waving her off. “Chat later,” hewhispered.
The woman sat back, raking her eyes overhim. Hell, she looked like a cat about to lap up a bowl ofcream.
The guys back at base had said this would bethe easiest of the assignments. Those guys had Kevlar for brains.They wouldn’t survive a minute in the minefields of this hostileenvironment. Threats everywhere.
A half-hour later, class ended, and Redtried to time his departure with Britt’s. Anything to maintaincontact with her to help make his mission easier.
“I’m Jenna. Jenna Woodruff.” Thehair-twirler drawled the name like it meant something.
“Hmm?”
She stepped in front of him, blocking hisway as she tipped her head up toward him. “Of the AlpharettaWoodruffs?”
He shrugged. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, I would have thought someone withexpensive taste in clothing would know my father, MayorWoodruff.”
“Sounds like a busy guy.” He pointed towardthe door. “I need to get to my next class.”
The woman’s scowl briefly creased herperfectly portioned features as she glanced toward her possehovering nearby. Red was about as comfortable as a goldfish in ashark tank.
Britt had walked near where he stood. Apause in her quick steps, and her electric-blue gaze cut up to himthen back down.
With a dip of his head and a lift of a palm,Red tried to appear as if he needed help, a stretch for his actingability, but he knew he nailed it when Britt said, “Want moreschedule assistance, Al?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” He tried tosidestep the Great White in front of him.
Jenna mirrored his movements, then she spuntoward Britt. “I’ll help him find his next class. Besides, don’tyou need to finish your little project?”
“We both have senior projects to complete.But yes, I’m working on it later this week, thanks for yourconcern,” Britt mumbled, wrapping two hands around one backpackstrap and twining her fingers together.
Jenna snorted. “First off, you’ll have toget more discount material at JOANN Fabric.” Her lurking friendsjoined in the polite laughter with a hard edge. “That’s going to bethe dumbest fashion collection, ever. Unless ‘teenage runaway chic’was the look you were going for. Am I right, ladies?” Jenna raked anail down Red’s forearm, the sound of acrylic on leather sandy andharsh. “You should check outmycollection. It’s all aboutthe glam of high-fashion New York. It’s going to be ah-mazing.”
Holy shit, he heard the tympani pounding ofBritt’s heart while a hot, red flush stained her neck and cheeks.Forget Red protecting her from Lequire’s cronies who wanted to killor kidnap her, she had plenty of threat from these frenemies infront of her. Right as he curled his hands into fists and preparedto shove past the catty jerk, Britt inhaled with a sigh, that sweetsound bringing him to heel. He honed in on every note anddecibel.
Rather, the virus honed in on her.
Legs shoulder-width apart, Britt rose tofull height, still a few inches shorter than Jenna, but topped witha big helping ofhell-if-I-care. Then Britt smiled, theexpression terrifying. There was a flash of hurt, and then it gotburied behind the icy glint in her eyes and a chin thrust. Redrecognized the kindred ability to push down the pain and fake someconfidence.
Her mellow voice remained calm, controlled.Too controlled. “I bargain shop, true. But at least I have earnedall that I create. Earned it by myself with skill, not money.Created something original. Nothing was handed to me on a silverplatter. No one hired seamstresses to do my work for me.” Only Redwould have caught the uncorrected tremor in the tone.
Red wanted to hear more. He knew all aboutthe lack-of-silver-spoon status.
“See, here’s the thing, friend,” Brittcontinued. “Even after you finish your show and the crowd stands upand cheers for you, you’ll never be sure if it was really for you.Or if the cheers are for your daddy’s money that he donated to getyou into SCAD. Or for all the work you outsourced. You’ll neverknow if you created the magic or not. For that, I truly feel sorryfor you.”
Jenna gasped, her mouth a rosy pink O on apale face.
Red crossed his arms. Fantastic job.
With utter efficiency, Britt pivoted fifteendegrees on her heel and strolled out of the classroom, leaving agaping Jenna doing her best impression of a catfish drowning inpure, clean air.
