It's Never too Late

“Yeah.” Sounding distracted, Randi didn’t look up right away.

“I...need to speak with you,” Addy said, slowing her heart rate with even breaths. “Your office hours were posted so...”

“Yes.” Randi finally dropped her pen and jumped up. “I’m sorry. I am holding office hours now.” She pointed to the chart on her desk. “Class schedules. They drive me nuts but have to be done.”

At the beginning of the semester? Wasn’t that leaving it a little late?

“I’m supposed to predict how many students I’m going to have in my second-semester classes while I’m still checking numbers to see which classes exceeded enrollment for this semester! What can I do for you?”

“I, um, was wondering...well, I heard that you helped Susan Farley.” Addy’s hesitation was only half put on for the sake of her cover. Seeing Randi, acting as if the woman meant nothing to her, was proving much more difficult than she’d expected. Next to Will and Becca, Randi had been Addy’s lifeline at a time when her emotional and mental health had been extremely fragile.

She’d thought herself well past any vulnerability she’d felt toward them.

Randi came around to rest her backside against the front of her desk. Her arms were crossed. “Helped her?”

“Financially. I...have a little sister. She’s a star tennis player in Colorado....”

Addy knew a star tennis player in Colorado. She’d defended the girl when her high school wasn’t going to let her play in a critical match because she’d be missing class to do so. In Addy’s mind, it wasn’t a question of whether or not school athletes should be permitted to miss class to play sports, but a question of inequality due to the fact that football players at that same school missed class every single time there was an away game during football season.

She’d won.

She named several of the tournaments the girl had played in. “Our folks can’t afford to pay college tuition but with the money my dad makes, we just miss the cutoff criteria for her to qualify for a student loan,” she said.

She’d concocted a scenario similar to a case she’d come across in her research where Randi Parsons had been over budget, having even spent the overflow funds from the alumni athletic account and yet, after school had started, had managed to find funding for Susan Farley, a basketball center who’d gone on to play in the pros and currently had major sponsorships, including commercials on national television. Where the money had come from, she had no idea, but after learning about the situation from Randi’s files, she’d gone on to read articles about the woman who’d credited Randi Parsons with helping start her career. There’d been a reprimand regarding the overflow account expenditures in Randi’s personnel file. Which had spurred Addy to begin an hours-long investigation to uncover the rest of the facts.

And now she needed an incident with which she could counteract an allegedly discriminatory action.

The nepotism—the fact that Randi, who’d obviously taken liberties with school money, was working for her brother—wasn’t something she could do anything about. At least, not right then.

Addy couldn’t talk to Will. And she had to look into every possible reason someone could have to blackmail him. Nepotism as a basis of discrimination was a big one—if he’d hired his sister over other equally qualified applicants. Or kept her on staff in the face of blatant overspending when others had been let go for similar wrongdoing.

If he were charged, the prosecution’s investigation could very easily locate the same case Addy had found, and they could foreseeably establish a “test” of sorts to see if they could catch Randi in the act of misusing school funds as a means of strengthening their case. It was what Addy would have done.

“I’m currently a freshman here at Montford,” Addy said slowly, not having to fake the nervous hesitation with which she spoke. “It took me ten years to save for this, but my sister’s tennis can’t wait the four years it will take me to finish if she hopes to have any kind of career with it. If she attended Montford she’d be able to stay with me, which would alleviate her living expenses, but the tuition here is so steep. I was just hoping that maybe there would be something you could do.”

The whole scenario—her in Shelter Valley, there with Randi, pretending to be someone she was not—was making her physically ill. Her head throbbed.

“There are funds designated for scholarships. And some alumni money is available each year, too, but that’s all been promised for this year.”

“I figured that.” Addy glanced down, thinking about what she’d discovered the day before. Susan Farley had started school after the semester had begun. On full scholarship plus living expenses. The largest athletic scholarship the university had awarded to date—in both men’s and women’s athletics. It had come at a time when all scholarship funds had already been designated for the remainder of the year.

The woman had gone on to fame and fortune. And anyone who’d been turned down in similar circumstances could sue.

“I used to watch you golf,” Addy said, effecting a shyness that was not natura

l to her. “You were really good.”

Her arms still crossed, Randi lifted one foot to the chair in front of her desk. “That was a long time ago, but thanks. I’m into in-line skating now.”

Because skating didn’t take a lot of upper-body strength?

“I read about your car accident. I’m sorry.” Randi had been at the top of her game, in Florida to participate in a tournament she’d been expected to win, when she’d been involved in an accident that had crushed her shoulder—and ended her golf career.

Addy had received a phone call from Will shortly after the accident. She’d sent a card to Randi, with no personal note attached. She should have called.

“Like I said, it was a long time ago.” Randi reminded Addy of herself. Compartmentalizing to contain the things that could not be controlled.

“Susan is playing pro basketball now, isn’t she?” she continued. “She’s sponsored by one of the big tennis shoe companies. I saw her ad on TV. Montford’s women’s athletic program is the best.”