Page 51 of The Texas Sterling Collection
I nodded. “Poor schmuck. He messed with the wrong guys when he and his attitude approached our table. I’m glad we have options to protect ourselves.”
“Me too, babe. Besides, we have a ranch to take care of. Which reminds me, November is coming up, with cooler weather. How about we plan our camping trip and horseback ride on the ranch? Maybe over Thanksgiving?” Wyl’s gaze held the promise of more than a horseback ride.
“Oh yes, our camping night on the ranch. November is so far away.”
Wyl shook his head. “It starts at the end of next week.”
A ringing phone sounded behind closed doors somewhere down the hall. The rapid clack of heels and the hour heralded Stella’s arrival. The pace quickened as the ringing continued.
“Morning, gentlemen.” Stella hurried by, keys rattling in her hand. A door squeaked open.
Stella’s breathless words carried into my office. “Fine Arts. Oh, hi, Rosemary. Yes, I left you a message. Do you need me to come to your office? Okay, I’ll be right over.” Her heels clacked on the terrazzo floor as she hurried out of the Fine Arts building.
“I wonder what that’s all about?” Wyl stood to gather his things.
“I don’t have a clue,” I picked up my materials and led Wyl to the classroom.
* * *
After class, Wyl hiked to the library to study before his next class, and I strolled back to my office.
My office phone rang. The display showed Linda Baker, Dr. Waverly’s secretary. She and I became friends soon after I started at the college. I liked Linda, and before Wyl came into the picture, we sometimes hashed out the world's troubles over an after-work beer at Dub’s Bar on the square.
“Hey, Linda.”
“Hey, Rod. Are you free this afternoon? Dr. Waverly would like to meet with you at 3:00.”
I tensed. Why would the president need me? “Sure. Do I need to bring anything?”
“She didn’t say. She asked me to put you on her calendar.”
“Okay. I’ll come at 3:00.”
My brow furrowed. Dr. Waverly always called me herself. Arranging the meeting through Linda meant a more formal reason. Budget planning occurred in the spring, and I asked for an increase for Fine Arts. Perhaps she wanted to discuss my plans for the increase. Stella’s hurried conversation with Rosemary flashed into my mind. Stella. The common denominator. Not only because of her antics with Mitzi, but the situation with Alfonso cropped up about the same time. A problem that Stella undoubtedly helped advertise. The fact that this did not go through my dean meant something else. Was Mitzi part of this? I checked the foundation website and discovered the Sterling name. Hoping to learn more, I called Frank Jones, the Foundation Director on campus. Frank sat on Dr. Waverly’s Administrative Staff; his secretary and Linda were personal friends.
“Frank, Rod Bonner here. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Rod. What can I do for you?” Frank’s deep, confident voice reminded me of a preacher. He charmed money out of donors' pockets with a smile and a handshake.
“On the Foundation web page, the Sterlings are listed as college supporters. Can you tell me how much they give each year?” On the off chance Mitzi started something involving Wyl, I needed information about any Sterling financial gifts and how much the loss of Sterling support would impact the college.
“The Sterling Ranch Sterlings?”
“Yes. Wyl Sterling is a student here.”
“Ah. Let me check the donor database.” Frank’s computer keyboard clicked in the background as he typed in the information. “The Sterlings give $50,000 a year. The college can use the funds in any way. It’s a handsome endowment.”
“Wow, Frank. The Sterlings are generous to the college.”
“The ranch includes five producing oil wells, Rod. Money is not an issue with them.”
“Thanks for the information, Frank.”
“Any time, Rod. Bye.”
“Bye.” Wyl never mentioned oil or money, but perhaps he feared the information would influence me. I didn’t care about Wyl’s money; I cared about him for being Wyl. I had no idea how much money came from producing oil wells, but it added up. Wealth never mattered to me. In fact, it frightened me a bit. In high school, watching the rich kids always made me uneasy. They thought of themselves as better than everyone else, so I adopted the same attitude. I would ask Wyl about it sometime.
* * *
