I choked on my wine. "What?"
"Why?" Ford asked.
"She is clearly searching for inspiration." Damien winked at me and Ford shot his friend, Jackson, another dark look.
Jackson swallowed a large bite of turkey with gravy and said. "I'd love a chance to look at your short story now that the cat's out of the bag. I always need more people in my advanced creative writing class, and from what Ford has said, I'm sure you would fit right in."
I stabbed a green bean and glared at Ford again. "I think Ford might have spoken out of turn and exaggerated a bit."
"No," my father said. "Ford's as honest as they come. Is that the reason you had to leave journalism and dive into academia?"
"That's a whole other story," Ford said with a grim line to his mouth.
"You know," Polly spoke up, "I've been meaning to talk to some of the creative writing students about creating prompts for my artists. I love the intersection between description and illustration."
"Ah, a crossover of the disciplines. It would be interesting to merge the painters with the sculptors and challenge them with the written word." Damien smiled at me. "What do you think, Clarity? Would you be willing to create characters to challenge the art students?"
"She's busy," Ford said. He looked up and took a swig of wine. "Clarity's also on the school newspaper. It's not a big staff and I'm not big on people poaching my students."
"Speaking of inspiring the art students, I've been trying to convince Carl to pose for your sculpting class," Lexi said.
Carl shook his head and continued to eat. "Not my thing. Just like dating's not Clarity's thing."
I could have kissed him. "Thank you, Carl. I'm happy to consider my journalist internship and I think that's about all I can handle at the moment."
"You're too shy for your own good," Lexi said.
"Clarity's not shy, she's discerning," Ford said.
Everyone glanced his way again, but this time he kept his eyes steady on me.
My father chuckled, "Takes one to know one, eh?"
Alice nudged Ford. "He's definitely
discerning too. In fact, I think that's why he's not dating either."
"Really? That's interesting," Lexi said.
I considered throwing a roll at her head but instead made one last, desperate attempt to change the subject. "I hope everyone saves a little room for dessert. My father's made an amazing pecan pie."
"My favorite," Ford said, and his smile returned as the conversation moved on.
CHAPTER TEN
Ford
I shoved my food around my plate, annoyed with myself. I had made such a spectacle out of Clarity's internship letter. Then I had tried to compliment her on her writing. I had completely forgotten she asked me to keep it a secret.
I stabbed a piece of turkey and dragged it through the thick, creamy gravy. At least everyone's responses had been enthusiastic and encouraging. Maybe she'd forgive me.
"I'd like to take credit for the whole meal," Clarity's father leaned over to me, "but really all I managed on my own was the gravy."
I smiled. "What about the pecan pie?"
"She did it. I arranged the nuts on top and put it in the oven," he whispered.
Clarity caught us whispering. "That's not true. You handled the turkey."