Homecoming (7 page)

“I’m not,” Jill insisted. “And, even if you won’t accept the truth, that’s because of you and Mike and your kids. You saved me.”

***

Jill tapped her foot as she waited in line for her morning coffee. She had a coffee maker at home, but much preferred buying a cup on campus, so she could enjoy it while navigating her in-box. It also didn’t hurt that they had killer scones. She didn’t allow herself to order one every day, but Monday mornings usually required a treat to make them more bearable.

She was on her way out when Scott came in, looking worse for wear. “Hey,” she said, brightly.

“Shh!” He held a finger up to his lips. “I spent waaaay too long at a craft beer tasting yesterday.”

“How was your weekend? I know you had special plans—that I don’t want to hear about.”

“Then you won’t. I’ll stop by your office when I can talk.”

“Busy morning? Things are calm for me, now that the term’s over.”

“I’ll come by when I’m
able
to talk,” he clarified. “My schedule’s empty.”

Jill took an indirect path to her office, enjoying the early morning calm of the campus when most of the students had departed for the summer. She was in a great mood, finding the long drive to Sugar Hill rejuvenating rather than the drain on her energy it usually was. Having a pair of friendly faces welcome her was obviously the key.

She’d neglected her in-box for a week, replying only to the most urgent requests. Now she dug deep, spending most of the morning clearing it out. She was feeling quite proud of her accomplishment when Scott wandered in and dropped into a chair.

“When am I going to learn that drinking beer all afternoon is a recipe for disaster?”

Jill braced her chin in a hand and looked at him. “I have no idea. I figured that out twenty years ago, but I think we both know I’m smarter than you are.”

“You really might be,” he agreed. He stuck his foot out, caught the edge of her door, and closed it. “So.”

“What’s wrong? You look kinda…weird.”

“I feel weird.” He looked right at her for a few moments, then said, “I learned two lessons this weekend. One, don’t drink a lot of beer in the afternoon, and two, don’t let a friend hook you up.”

“Oh-oh.” She winced. “I know I’ll regret asking, but…Lizzie didn’t like your put-out or get-out rule?”

“Nice way to put it.” His wry laugh made him look slightly embarrassed, but Jill knew that was a projection on her part. Scott was always frank. “And that’s not a rule. It’s a…” He shrugged. “Okay, it’s a rule. But it’s a rule that’s saved me a lot of time and effort. If a woman’s weird about having sex after a few dates, she’ll probably be weird about it forever. No thanks.”

“Huh.” She sat back in her chair and assessed him. He looked funny. Not his usual joking self. Maybe it was the hangover. “I’m a little surprised by that. I don’t know Lizzie well, but she seems like the kind of woman who’d be into sex. Maybe she just wasn’t ready, Scott. If you like her, give her a little more time.”

“No, thanks,” he said quickly. “I try to be a gentleman, so I don’t talk about things like this in detail. Even with my friends.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “But I should give you fair warning. You might want to think twice about introducing Lizzie to anyone else. She’s…well, she’s…complicated.”

“She’s complicated? What in the heck does that mean?”

“I don’t want to get into it, Jill. Just”—he stood and looked at her for an uncomfortably long time—“get to know her better before you try to hook her up.”

“Damn, Scott, what in the hell happened?” She couldn’t begin to figure out what he was inferring.

“Nothing awful. She’s not a vampire or anything. She just has things she likes that…” He shook his head. “I don’t want to get into it. Just think twice, okay?”

She stood as he opened the door. “No worries. I haven’t hooked many people up, and I’m going to stop while I’m ahead.”

“Lizzie’s a lot of fun,” he said, as he exited. “She’s just…out of my league.”

What in the hell did
that
mean?

***

Jill was packing up her things when her phone rang, with the display showing an outside line. “Jill Henry.”

“Hi, there, Jill Henry. Lizzie Davis. Is it too early for a university administrator to have a drink?”

Jill looked at her watch. “It’s five o’clock. I think that’s viable. Are you close by?”

“Uh-huh. I was meeting with your director of special events about a couple of things. I’m in Waterman. I assume you’re somewhere around here too.”

“I am. Why don’t I meet you on the front steps? I’m ready to go.”

“Great. See you in a few.”

Jill hustled down the stairs, blessedly free of the usual gaggle of students moving between classes. She reached the front stairs and breathed in the fresh, sweet air.
Now
it was spring. A tap on her shoulder made her turn to find Lizzie, once again looking like a fully-accredited adult. “You cut your hair,” Jill said, admiring the now chin-length bob. “It looks really good.”

“Thanks. I’m in the water all of the time in the summer. When it’s this length, I don’t
have
to blow-dry it.”

“Whatever your reasons, it looks good. I’m about ready to change stylists. Do you go to someone you like?”

“Uh-huh. I’ll give you her number. As soon as you buy me a drink.”

“
I’m
buying?”

“Uh-huh.” She put her hand on Jill’s elbow and led her towards a parking lot.

“We’re driving?”

“No, I’m driving. Let’s head down College. There’s a new place I like that’s for adults.”

“We could walk,” Jill said. “It’s not that far.”

“I’m wearing heels,” she said, sticking a foot out as a visual aid. “And why would I want to walk down, only to have to walk back to get my car? Use your head, woman!”

Jill laughed at her chiding and followed along. Lizzie pressed her key fob when they got near a cute, small car in a unique shade of blue. The lights flashed and a “thunk” indicated the doors were unlocked.

“Is this a plug-in?” Jill asked as she got in and realized something was missing. Instead of a shifter, there was a silver button between the seats.

“Yeah. But it only gets about seventy miles to a charge. Works great for driving to and from work, but I have to take the train to visit the old homestead.”

“Where do you charge it?” Jill fastened her seat belt, and shifted around in the surprisingly spacious interior.

“There’s a public charging station only five blocks from my apartment.” She shrugged. “It would have been nice to live in Jon’s house. He installed a 240 charger just for me.” Sighing, she added, “His big plug just wasn’t big enough.”

She wore a playful smirk, and Jill would have made a suggestive comment to her other friends, but she didn’t yet know Lizzie well enough to do that. “I think it’s really nice that you care about your carbon footprint.”

“Someone has to,” she said as she pressed that silver button and a muted chime sounded. The absence of engine sound was a little odd. More like a golf cart than a car. As they pulled out, the car really zoomed, no delay for the gas to reach the engine.

They glided down College, with Lizzie on the alert for parking. When she found a spot, she maneuvered the car into the space and turned it off. “The place I’m thinking of is about four blocks away, but I hate to waste power looking for parking. Is that cool?”

“Sure. You’re the one wearing heels.”

They got out and started to walk down towards the lake. “You’re dressed pretty casually,” Lizzie commented as she turned and assessed Jill’s clothing. “Can you always wear khakis?”

“No, I get dressed up sometimes. But if I don’t have to, I stay casual. I ironed my shirt though. I think that counts as dressing up.”

Lizzie grasped the fabric at the cuff and rubbed it between her fingers. “I like checks. I’d call this robin’s egg blue. It looks great with your eyes.”

“Thanks. I find myself buying a lot of blue shirts and sweaters. I wonder if I’m vain enough to try to match my eyes?”

“Probably. I chose this place because I’m in the mood for a real cocktail. How about you?”

“I can do a cocktail. I usually drink beer, but I’m versatile.”

“You look it,” Lizzie said, giving her a quick glance.

They were the first patrons of the quiet cocktail bar. Lots of warm brown leather and dark-stained oak surrounded them. “Always a good sign to be first,” Jill teased. “Shows your dedication.”

The bartender swept his hand in an “anywhere you like” sign, and Lizzie went all the way to the back. As she put her purse down, she said, “I like to be able to see who’s coming in.”

A waitress arrived after they’d spent a minute studying the cocktail list, and Jill went with a vodka base, while Lizzie chose bourbon.

“Ooo, dark spirits,” Jill said when the server departed. “A real drink.”

“Yeah, I like bourbon and rye. I’m not much for Scotch, though.”

“You were drinking vodka at Mark’s party. I thought that would be your drink.”

“Lisa bought vodka, so I made do.” She tried to flip her hair over her shoulder, probably forgetting it wasn’t long enough to do that now. “Hey, did Scott talk to you today?”

She didn’t look upset, or even concerned, so Jill told the partial truth. “Yeah. He said you’d decided not to see each other any more. Are you cool with that?”

“Yeah.” She made a face, one Jill couldn’t easily interpret. “I was disappointed, but not surprised.”

Blinking, Jill said, “I got the impression you were the one who didn’t want to see him any more.”

Lizzie looked at her sharply. “He said that?”

Jill thought for a minute. “No, I guess he didn’t. I just assumed…”

“Why?”

“Because he seemed disappointed. Or something. It was kinda hard to tell. He didn’t want to talk about it.”

Now Lizzie let out a laugh, a good one. She let her head fall back a few inches, showing white, even teeth. “I bet he didn’t.” Their drinks were delivered and they toasted, then took a sip. “Mine’s good,” Lizzie said. “Yours?”

“Also good.” Jill put it down and waited for Lizzie to continue speaking. But she didn’t. She just smiled, coyly.

“Are you going to tell me why Scott wouldn’t want to talk about it?” She slapped herself on the forehead. “I will never, ever set people up again.”

Laughing, Lizzie gave her a playful tap on the arm. “Don’t let this scare you off. Scott’s a nice guy. I could easily see most women liking him a lot. Go ahead and set him up if you run into another single woman.”

“I probably won’t get the chance. He’s the finance department’s version of George Clooney. Lots of women, most of them not lasting long.”

“Clooney’s married now. You’re going to have to come up with a new guy.”

“Scott claims he’s ready to settle down too,” Jill said, testing the water. “But maybe not.”

Lizzie brought her glass to her lips and took a healthy sip. Then she set the glass on the table and said, “Do you want to know what happened? I’m not embarrassed to talk about it.”

Wincing, Jill said, “I don’t know. Do I?”

Lizzie laughed at her. Not with her. At her. “Are you always so skittish?”

“No, not really,” she admitted. “It’s just weird when you have friends who’ve dated. I’m definitely getting out of the matchmaking business. Too stressful.”

“Just sit there quietly, and I’ll tell you what happened.” She took a breath. “Scott likes to move to the bedroom sooner than I do,” she admitted. “I read a book once that said you should never sleep with anyone you wouldn’t want to be.”

“Wouldn’t want to be? I don’t get it. Why would you want to be Scott?”

“No, no,” she said, frowning as she tried to explain herself. “The point is that you should only have sex with people you know well. People you respect. Admire, even. I took that advice to heart. I’ve never had sex with a guy I didn’t know and trust.”

“Ahh.” Jill smiled and nodded. “I had a feeling it was something like that.” She picked up her glass to take another drink.

“So I told him he could fuck me, if I could fuck him first.”

The table was now covered in a fine spray of vodka, grapefruit juice and Aperol. Accompanied by Lizzie’s laughter ringing out through the empty bar.

“That’s about what he did,” she said, still laughing hard.

“I can’t…I can’t imagine what went through his mind,” Jill said, furiously wiping vodka from her shirt and the table. “He doesn’t know your sense of humor, Lizzie.”

There was stark silence from across the table, and Jill stopped her cleanup to look at her. “I wasn’t kidding,” she said, straight-faced. “I don’t like to waste time with guys who aren’t flexible.”

“Flexible?” Jill knew she was staring, but couldn’t help herself. “A guy who’d do that would have to be very,
very
flexible.”

“You don’t?” She batted her eyes, totally knocking Jill off stride.

“I don’t what?”

“Allow women to fuck you,” she said, as though they were having a normal conversation.

“I…I…I don’t think that’s something I want to talk about.”

“That means you do,” she announced, a sly grin blooming. “If you didn’t, you’d deny it.”

“For god’s sake, Lizzie, I have a…” She struggled to find the right word, without sounding crass. “I’m designed for that.”

“So are guys,” she said blithely. “Men need to see what it feels like to be on the bottom once in a while. To know how it feels to be pushed into doing something you’re nowhere near ready for.”

“I am really,
really
never going to fix you up again. No wonder Scott looked like he’d seen a ghost!”

“He was a big baby,” she said, waving her hand. “I don’t pound away at a guy every night. I just want someone who’s open to new things. The fact that Scott shut me down without a moment to think about it showed me he wasn’t my type.”

“Lizzie,” Jill said carefully. “You wanted to fuck him in the…”

“In the ass,” Lizzie supplied when it became clear Jill was a little squeamish. “Guys
always
ask for that, and my butt is no more made for it than theirs is. Turnabout is fair play.”