Now, he had two sins on his conscience. One never got off scot-free for his transgressions. Lamar was paying for his secret misdeeds by being condemned to another year under Neal’s tyranny.
He forced himself to get up and prepare for the evening. He really should unpack before the Delta Gammas arrived. Otherwise, they would put things where he wouldn’t know where to find them. Because Neal expected it, he would get a little stoned, a little drunk, and would probably bring one of the Delta Gammas into his bedroom and have sex.
His recently adopted philosophy of life was that, in order to survive in the cruel world, one did what one had to do, even if one didn’t like it.
Chapter Thirteen
Morgantown, South Carolina, 1977—81
“Boy! Was that exam a bitch or what?”
Jade smiled up at the fellow student who had fallen into step beside her as she left the science building. “That exam was definitely a bitch.” The steeple chimes struck four o’clock. Trees cast long, slanted shadows across the campus lawn, and frisky autumn leaves tumbled in a brisk, cool wind.
“Biology’s never been my bag. By the way, I’m Hank Arnett.”
“Pleased to meet you, Hank. Jade Sperry.”
“Hi, Jade.” He smiled disarmingly. “So, do you think you passed the exam?”
“I’m on a scholarship. I have to do better than pass. I have to maintain at least a three-point grade average.”
He whistled. “That’s tough.”
“If the sciences aren’t your bag, what is?” she asked conversationally.
“Art. Give me a Monet over Madame Curie any day. Do you figure Picasso knew or even cared how paramecia procreate?”
Jade laughed. “I’m a business major.”
“Hmm.” He raised his eyebrows as though impressed. “With a face like yours, I would have guessed music. Literature, maybe.”
“Nope, marketing and management.”
“Jeez, my instincts were way off base. I sure as hell didn’t have you pegged for a future tycoon.”
She took that as a backhanded compliment. “Well, this is where I turn off.” They stopped at the intersection of two paved sidewalks. “It was nice to meet you, Hank.”
“Yeah, for me, too. Say, uh, I was going to grab a cup of coffee. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds good, but I’m on my way to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’ve really got to run, Hank. ’Bye.” Before he could detain her, she turned and jogged to the parking lot.
Hank Arnett watched her until she disappeared from view. He had an even temperament, a tall, lanky physique, and a thick Southern drawl. His shoulders were wide and bony, and his thick, wavy, reddish brown hair was frequently pulled back in a pony tail. His affable face wasn’t movie-star handsome, but the twinkle in his brown eyes was engaging. Most of his clothes were flea-market chic, and he wore them with panache without looking effeminate.
One of his virtues was tenacity. Possessing a good sense of humor, he found the foibles of life more amusing than irritating. During the course of her freshman year at Dander College, Jade would discover that. After their first meeting, Hank fell into the habit of walking her from their biology class to her car. Since it was her final class of the day before she had to report to work, she always had a good excuse for declining his invitations to have coffee. While she liked him very much, she discouraged his subtle overtures toward dating.
* * *
As Dean Mitch Hearon had predicted, Miss Dorothy Davis wasn’t the easiest of employers. A maiden lady—and defensively proud of it—she was demanding and persnickety. Her store could outfit females from birth to burial. Miss Dorothy was personally acquainted with every scrap of merchandise in the store and could, by memory, provide a stock number for most of it. Her salespeople were terrified of her.
Jade’s efficiency and diligence won Miss Dorothy’s approval. She liked her for being a “sensible young person, not like most.” Jade utilized her time at the store wisely, learning all she could about the manufacturing and marketing of clothing and other textile products and the day-to-day trials of running a business.
She had resolved that in order to irrevocably damage the Patchetts, she would have to attack them on an economic front. She wanted to strip the Patchetts of what was most important to them—money and the influence that accompanied it. She wanted to permanently cripple their power machine. Her ultimate goal was to create in Palmetto an economic upheaval that would benefit the community but overturn the Patchetts’ monarchy. She n
ursed no delusions that it would be easy. She would have to be smart, savvy, and vested with more power than they before she could even attempt it. From now on, everything she did was in preparation of returning and bringing them down. She woke up every morning thinking about it, and fell asleep tasting the victory that was years away.