“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come on, let’s get started.”
We spent about forty-five minutes going through my bedroom before I eventually relented. He was right. This was way too much work for one morning. I’d be here for a couple of days, going through my stuff. It would be better if I just packed it all up and shipped it home where I could go through it later. Luckily, the furniture was staying for this semester for the person who would be subletting.
Jensen and I brought out the boxes to the town car and then checked into the suite he’d reserved. I hadn’t even seen him pick up his phone to call for someone to come to the loft, but he told me on the way to campus that someone would be there tomorrow.
I might have dated a Wright in high school, but I hadn’t had this. At that time, their father had been wealthy. But I hadn’t understood money then. I hadn’t realized what it meant the same way that I did now when I didn’t have any. With Jensen, it was clear, the power and prestige that came with that kind of wealth. He made things happen. And he didn’t even bat an eyelash.
The town car dropped us off in front of campus, and I was ready to show him around, but I could already feel myself crashing. Early mornings were not my thing.
“Coffee first?” I suggested.
“Definitely.”
We traipsed across the street to my favorite local coffee shop. I’d been there about a million times since it was such a short walk from Garrison Hall where the history department was held. The next closest shop was a Starbucks, but in Austin, local was king. Especially when it came to coffee…and tacos.
My heart felt giddy as we approached the building with sleek black tables on the outside, already half-abandoned since school was out. Only a few people were still hanging out. We breezed in through the front door, and I breathed in the scent of the coffee brewing. I could already taste my favorite latte on my tongue.
Then, it all turned to ash.
My feet stopped moving.
Jensen took two steps ahead of me before realizing I had stopped entirely.
But I couldn’t look away from what was in front of my face.
It hadn’t occurred to me at all that Mitch might be here.
“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked. He took one giant stride to appear before me. “Hey, tell me what’s going on.”
“Emery,” Mitch said over Jensen’s shoulder.
Jensen whipped around and took stock of the man standing before him. Mitch was about average height with slicked back long blond hair. He wore a black suit jacket with jeans. I had always thought he looked so sharp, and knowing the intelligence under the persona was even more appealing. But, seeing him now next to Jensen, I realized that Mitch looked cheap and grungy.
Cool professor, he might be.
Sexy CEO of a Fortune 500, he was not.
Jensen seemed to put the pieces together almost instantly. He bristled with barely concealed anger and tried to shield me from Mitch. “Let’s just go somewhere else.”
“It’s okay,” I said, finding my voice. I put my hand on his sleeve. “This is my favorite coffee shop.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I nodded, and Jensen instantly backed off. But he was still tense and looked ready to pounce if Mitch came any closer.
“I’m so glad you’re back. I knew you would be,” Mitch said with a confident smile.
He took a couple of more steps and then tried to pull me in for a hug. I stumbled backward in shock and revulsion.
How could he think I would want to touch him after what he had done?
Before I even had a chance to speak, Jensen crushed his hand on Mitch’s shoulder to keep him from getting near me again. He was boiling over.
“Don’t lay a hand on her,” Jensen growled. He gave a little shove and then released Mitch.
Mitch looked him over, as if he hadn’t noticed him. Jensen stretched even taller and broader than normal. He was all testosterone and aggression. Mitch had his classic sly grin in place. He was assessing the situation but not to size Jensen up…just to belittle him with his eyes.
“Always nice to meet a friend of Emery’s,” Mitch said, sliding a hand back through his hair. “I’m her dissertation adviser, Dr. Mitch Campbell.” As if Jensen hadn’t just pushed him away from me, he held out his hand.
Jensen coldly stared down at it. “I know who you are.”
“And you’re not my dissertation adviser,” I cut in. “I quit the program.”
Mitch laughed and waved his hand like he was brandishing a magic wand that could make it all better. “You were just upset that day. I told the department to dismiss the withdrawal paperwork, and I had you reinstated. I knew you’d want to finish up. You only have another year.”