Flirting with Fifty
“I did some online sleuthing, and it popped up.”
“Was Oliver surprised to see you?”
Ashley shrugged. “I didn’t ask him.”
Paige swallowed her exasperation. Ashley could be maddening, and right before her trip wasn’t the time to create a rift.
Exactly at one, Ashley dropped off Paige and her luggage on the Orange campus, right next to the large bus. “I’ll be home late on the thirteenth,” Paige said, giving her youngest a fierce hug. “Don’t worry about getting me. It might be late—”
“I’ll get you, Mom. I’ll be so excited to see you.”
Paige smiled, smoothed Ashley’s long hair back from her face. “Be careful. Be smart. Always lock the door—”
“I do, Mom. Don’t worry. I lived in New York for two years. I can handle Dana Point.”
“Still,” Paige said, stifling a rush of anxiety. “I’m going to be so far away.”
“Nothing will happen. Not to me, or to you.”
“You’re right.” Paige hugged her once more, and then watched Ashley return to the car and drive away. But as Ashley disappeared, Paige felt a wave of panic. She had a nagging sensation that she’d forgotten something, only she couldn’t remember what she’d forgotten. Mentally, she went through it all again. She’d packed, and repacked, chargers, converters, phone, laptop, clothes, medicine—lots of medicine—books, binders, notebooks. Passport. Wallet. Credit cards, ATM card. She should be fine.
She really should be.
So why wasn’t she calmer?
Jack wasn’t there when she joined the students, but the students greeted her with smiles and hellos. Each student had a backpack, and there near the bus was a mound of duffel bags.
Jack suddenly appeared, carrying a small duffel and wearing a modest backpack. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. The short sleeves revealed thick biceps, and his gaze was warm as it met hers, making her feel funny, fizzy things. The energy shifted the moment Jack joined them, students now joking and laughing. Jack was like the master of ceremonies, making everything appear easy, effortless.
She loved that about him.
She might just love him.
One more terrifying thought.
Jack had the students board the bus, and then he went down the aisle, collecting passports. Back at the front of the bus, he paired the passports with visas. He went through the stack a second time, double-checking, before counting heads.
“We’re one short,” he said, standing at the front of the bus, arms crossed over his chest. In the snug T-shirt that lovingly outlined his muscular chest he reminded Paige more of a football coach than a famous science professor.
“Who are we missing?” she asked.
The students looked around, several shaking heads. Paige immediately checked her faculty email. There it was. “Molly Bellamy,” she said, rising and crossing to Jack, showing him the email. She dropped her voice. “There’s been a family emergency and she can’t make it.”
Jack’s brow creased. “That’s too bad. She really looked forward to this trip. Can you email her back? Let her know if the situation changes once we head to the airport, have her call me, and I’ll come out and get her checked in and walked through security.”
Alarmed, Paige hesitated. Her gaze searched Jack’s. “I don’t want you to miss the flight, too. I can’t do this without you.”
“You won’t have to. Just give her my number. Tell her we want her to come, and we can make this work. She’s got plenty of time to get to LAX.”
Paige loved his commitment to his students, appreciated that he would bend rules to make things work for those in need. She quickly typed the information, adding her phone number, too. She hoped Molly would make it, but she had no idea what the emergency was, and if it was even feasible for Molly to come.
The bus ride north to Los Angeles was downright jubilant. Students joked and sang songs as if they were heading to summer camp. Paige glanced at Jack, who’d taken the seat next to her and was reading a sheaf of papers. “Is it always like this?” she asked.
He glanced up, looking at her over his reading glasses, looking every inch the scholarly professor. “My students are several years older. But there are usually high spirits. It feels like we’re going on holiday.”
“But we’re not,” she said, reading between the lines.
“Let’s just put it this way, they won’t be singing on the trip home. They’re going to be exhausted.” He reached for her hand, his fingers curling around hers. “Are you going to be okay, getting everyone home on your own? I feel guilty that I’m staying, leaving you to—”
“I’m not worried.” Her gaze met his, held. “I’m a professional.”
He laughed quietly, a warm husky rumble of sound that made her smile.
“It will be a little stressful, but that’s to be expected.” She hesitated. “Now, if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t be okay. But for you . . . I’m afraid you’ve wrapped me around your little finger.”
“Have I?” He looked pleased by that. “Good to know.”
* * *
An hour before boarding, Jack gathered the students, having them form a circle at an empty gate to tell them about some of the different customs they’d encounter, and how important it was to be respectful of the different values and culture of Tanzanians.
“I know some of you have been doing reading of your own, preparing for our trip,” Jack said. “Let’s see what you all know before I bore you. What are some of the customs we need to be aware of so that we don’t offend during our stay?”
One of the girls raised her hand. “Ask before you snap,” she said crisply. “It’s rude in Tanzania to take a photo of someone without their permission.”
“Don’t smell your food. Sniffing it is considered disrespectful,” another student said, “as it implies there is something wrong with it.”
Jack checked his smile. “Greetings are important as well. They take time. Every person must be acknowledged, starting with the elderly or most senior. Tanzanians deeply respect their seniors and always show deference to the elderly.” His gaze skimmed the ring of students, lingering for a moment on Paige. For a split second he forgot what they were discussing and then he forced himself to focus. “There’s another big cultural difference we haven’t discussed. Anyone remember? Know it?”