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"So we missed the dinner part?" Thomas asked as his stomach grumbled.
"You didn't miss it. You weren't invited," I said. "Dinner was over one hundred dollars a plate, which is why it was for alumni and donors only. The college president has been nice enough to invite us for the reception so you can mingle and find interesting stories."
"Can we drink?" another student asked.
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "If you are twenty-one-years-old, then you are legally allowed to drink. I will assume each of you can make a responsible choice. Can we get on to the assignment now?"
"Shouldn't we wait for Clarity?" Thomas asked.
Allison piped up. "She's coming with her father."
I handed Allison the list. "Here are you partners. Remember that co-writing is about balancing opposite or complimentary viewpoints. I suggest you start by getting to know your partner. There was an uneven number of students, so I'm taking part in the assignment as well."
I congratulated myself on sounding casual, then turned and caught a glimpse of Clarity.
Instead of her normal low ponytail, Clarity's hair was swept up into a complicated knot that still could not contain all her dark-red curls. Gold earrings danced on either side of her easy smile and a wave crashed inside me. Delicate straps were the only interruption along the creamy expanse of her bare shoulders. The neckline plunged until I held my breath. Despite the floor length fall of the black dress, her slender curves were revealed with each step.
Besides the subtly flashing gold earrings, the only jewelry Clarity wore was an emerald, beaded bracelet—the exact same shade as her eyes when she caught me staring.
"Professor Bauer, sorry I'm late. My father likes to make an entrance," Clarity said.
"All my fault," Dean Dunkirk chuckled, "she was never one to fuss in front of a mirror, but these darn bow ties always give me trouble."
Clarity's image burned in front of my eyes even as I turned to her father. "Dean Dunkirk, they didn't give you a free plate at the dinner?"
"Nothing's free when it comes to raising money for a new theater complex. Not even the drinks, so you all can stop worrying. If you're willing to pay what they're asking for them, I'm not going to stop you." The Dean of Students smiled at my gathered newspaper staff. "Your professor has given you one hell of a challenge: find something interesting here that won't step on any toes. Remember, a lot of people here guard their privacy for good reasons."
"Like pretending they're old money," Thomas whispered to Clarity.
She smiled but shook her head. "Well, I'm ready to mingle."
My newspaper staff split up into partners and went into the decorated dining hall. Clarity said goodbye to her father and then turned to me with one auburn eyebrow raised.
"It's a shared byline assignment," I said. "Everyone was assigned partners."
"Except there's an uneven amount of students," Clarity's exquisite shoulders slumped. "I always liked co-authored articles because the counterpoints are so interesting."
I was going to release her from the assignment and let her write her own article, but she looked so dejected. "Actually, I'm your partner." I held out the list to prove it. "Jackson, I mean, Professor Rumsfeld, helped me draw the names from a hat."
"What, no one draws straws anymore?" Clarity asked.
I gave in and offered her my arm. "It's probably unfair to the others, really. You have an inside track already."
She took my arm and we walked into the dining hall. Elegant flower arrangements graced every table. An orchestra quietly took their places on the far stage and a crystal chandelier sparkled over the polished dance floor. Most guests mingled near the bar or the silent auction.
"Professor Bauer, how nice to see you again." The older woman smiled as she stopped us.
"Mrs. McGuire, I'm so glad you enjoyed your tour of Thompson Hall," I said.
"Now, now, aren't you going to introduce me to your lovely fiancé? Hello, dear," Mrs. McGuire shook Clarity's hand and winked. "You know, my Derrick is fifteen years older than me, and if you ask me, it's the secret to our long marriage. Nearly forty years! It's a smart woman that chooses a mature man."
I could feel Clarity's blush and the temperature rose between us. "No, Mrs. McGuire, Clarity is one of my students. I'm here chaperoning the student newspaper."
She patted my arm and shook her head. "Oh, pish. I know a good match when I see one. Oh, dear, my husband's waving me down. I hope to see you on the dance floor!"
Clarity and I stood arm-in-arm, unmoving, and I didn't know what to say. Then her father appeared. "Did Mrs. McGuire mention dancing, because that's exactly what I came over here to talk to you about," Dean Dunkirk said.