Beauty and the Billionaire

"Student ID?" the cafeteria worker asked.

I winced, but handed him the card. The last time someone had asked me that I had lied. It had been so easy to tell the security guard a false name. I had been thinking about saving my father the embarrassment. And I had been thinking of Ford.

Looking back over the Thanksgiving holiday, Ford had been my only bright spot. Now all the happy moments with my father were tarnished by the major infraction he had committed, probably while the turkey was baking in the oven. I squeezed my eyes shut for just a moment and conjured up Ford's stormy gaze again. He had stood in front of me, steadied me as I reeled in disbelief, and Ford had promised he saw nothing.

"If that's what you want." His words echoed in my head.

"What?" I asked.

The cafeteria worker sighed and repeated, "There’s fresh orange juice near the end counter if that's what you want."

"Thanks." I scooped up my tray and searched for a quiet table.

I sat down in the far corner by the window and faced Thompson Hall. I wondered if I would see Ford hurrying to his first class. I wondered if he was going to break the story about my father accepting bribes.

Ford had to know the only reason my father did it was to secure me the internship at Wire Communications. It was all I had talked about all summer and all I had focused on since the beginning of the year. The career-making internship that I was going to turn down.

I slumped back in my chair. "What's the point of even going to class?"

The answer bolted me upright in my chair. Ford. Somehow he was the only person I wanted to see.

"Clarity, hi! I don't normally see you in the cafeteria. It's so great to run into you after break but before class," Thomas said.

I bit my cheek but smiled as he sat down. "Yeah, speaking of class, I need to get there a little early."

Thomas checked his watch. "No problem, we've got time for a little coffee and then I'll walk with you." He smiled. "How was your break? Who did your father end up inviting to Thanksgiving dinner?"

I summoned the good section of memories, before I entered my father's office. "It was really nice. Professor Rumsfeld and his wife were there, and Ford. I mean, Professor Bauer."

"You're on a first name basis now?" Thomas put down his coffee cup and studied the paper rim.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Actually, all the professors wanted to be normal people so I called them all by their first names. Professor Rumsfeld's first name is Jackson," I said.

Thomas picked at his scrambled eggs. "So, what was Ford like? Did he pull a restaurant critic at dinner?"

I laughed. "No, he actually relaxed. My father cracked me up a few times. The Professor's got an infectious laugh."

"So you've been infected?" Thomas scowled and swigged his coffee.

"What? No. I'm just saying that Professor Bauer—"

"Ford."

"Yes, Ford, is actually very nice. He even stayed and helped was the dishes," I said.

Thomas sat back and crossed his arms. "I can't believe your father invited him, much less let him stay late."

I narrowed my eyes and searched Thomas' surly face. "What's wrong with that?"

"You know that he's no good, right? You're not totally oblivious to the fact that Ford Bauer is not a good man."

I gripped the edge of the cafeteria table. "Ford is a better man than you'll ever know."

"God, Clarity." Thomas shoved his tray away and it bumped mine, sloshing my coffee. "I didn't think you'd be one of those girls."

"What exactly are you trying to say, Thomas?"

His whole demeanor changed. A sweaty, ho