"Don't worry, I'll help," Thomas said.
"No, that's okay, you have your own article to write and it looks like Allison is waiting for you," I pointed to our classmate.
Thomas took one look at Allison and crinkled his nose at her hopeful smile. Then he grabbed my arm and steered me to the opposite side of the door. I couldn't dodge around a tall table without wrenching my arm away from him and making a scene, so I found a spot in the corner and turned on him.
"Thomas, what has gotten into you?" I asked.
"Sorry, Clarity, I just wanted, I just thought we could take a second." He looked around in panic and then snagged a wilting rose from the centerpiece of the tall table. "I just wanted to know if—"
"Are you two coming?" Ford appeared behind Thomas. The college kid shrank despite their almost equal height. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"
"No, we were just on our way to the class meeting." I stepped around Thomas and caught Ford's sleeve. "I haven't gotten any quotes from people."
He patted my hand. "That's alright, we don't want to bury our own opinions for this assignment. Op-eds are a vital part of a student newspaper."
He shrugged off my touch and the bubble in my chest deflated. I followed Ford out to the foyer and Thomas trailed after us. "But op-eds very rarely share a byline. Shouldn't we be sticking to the assignment like everyone else?"
"Why don't you let me check in with the other students and see where we all stand, Ms. Dunkirk," Ford said. The blue in his eyes was hidden under a shade of hard gray. "Unless you have further issues with this assignment, can I address the newspaper staff?"
The push and pull of Ford made me step carefully. I stood on the opposite side of the circle from him, arms crossed. Each brush of his eyes called up sparks that his serious expression extinguished. My early fantasy cooled and hardened as he clearly regarded me as just another student.
As he talked, I suddenly couldn't take it. "Shouldn't this have been an individual assignment in order to get the best variety of opinions and ideas? You could have asked us each to find a topic and then assigned partners after the most compelling stories were chosen," I said.
Ford's gray eyes flashed over me again. "Ms. Dunkirk, I think you'll find, in the real world, editors very rarely tell you what to write. Yes, there are expectations, but if you cannot discover those and cater to them, your articles will not be included."
"But you've told us to write a co-authored piece," I snapped.
"In order to facilitate your learning. Is that something you are still interested in, Ms. Dunkirk?"
When the quick meeting broke up, Thomas leaned in to nudge my shoulder. "I'll stay if you still want to get those quotes," he said.
"Clarity," Ford strode across the dispersing circle. "If we're done discussing tonight's assignment, I have that feedback you asked for."
"My story?" I asked. "Yes, I'd like to see what you thought."
"It's in my office, if you're interested." Ford said. He gestured towards the doors and I went with him.
The cool air after a formal event always felt freeing, but tonight it only whipped up a stir of nerves. I shivered.
"Did you have a coat?" Ford asked.
"No, there was valet parking," I said.
He unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and slipped it around my shoulders. I tried to protest but he shook his head. "It's a rental, might as well get some good use out of it."
Ford's spicy musk surrounded me and I breathed deep. Feeling his amused attention on me, I tried to recover myself. "I love the smell of autumn, all the leaves and wood smoke."
He nodded. "You know, I don't mind typing up my comments if you send me it."
Fear gripped me. "You didn't like it. I knew it was a frivolous waste of time, but it felt like I just had to get it out." I wrapped his coat tighter around me and shuffled my high heels through the dried leaves.
Ford laughed. "Spoken like a true writer. All I meant was I could save you a trip."
"Thanks," I glanced at him, "but it was nice to have an excuse to leave."
It sounded innocent, but echoes of other thoughts loudly contradicted me inside my head. Ford's dark hair curled over the crisp collar of the white tuxedo shirt and my fingers itched to sweep it clear. To tangle my hands in the hair at the back of his neck, that neck that already showed dark stubble. I wondered what it would feel like against my cheek, the bare skin of my arm.
I shivered again and Ford jumped ahead to open the door of Thompson Hall. "One nice thing about a top floor office is that it's always hot," he joked.