On Common Ground (Harlequin Super Romance) (6 page)

CHAPTER NINE

“L
ILAH
,
IF
ANYONE
EMBODIES
Grantham University’s motto of duty to society, it’s you.” Grantham University’s president, Theodore “call me Ted” Forsgate greeted Lilah at the entrance to Edinburgh House, Grantham’s faculty club.

The Italianate mansion, surrounded by a lush formal garden—with its own endowment no less—once served as the on-campus home for the university’s presidents. Then the sixties came, and even though student protests at Grantham University were mild compared to other locales, the then-president thought it wise to decamp to an equally imposing abode about a mile down the road. The protestors’ loss was the professors’ gain. Lunch and dinner were served regularly, and the university frequently used the rooms for official functions.

“Thank you, President Forsgate,” Lilah said, bowled over by the sincerity of his double-handed shake—almost literally, since President Forsgate was a large man and took a full-blooded approach to shaking hands. “It’s very rewarding to be back in an environment that puts a premium on public service. I must confess, I feel a little overwhelmed by the recognition,” she added. This was the first time she had met Forsgate, an astrophysicist who had apparently discovered a distant galaxy.

Then she turned to her left and attempted to extract her hand. “I think I owe all the attention in large part to Justin. You’ve met of course, Justin Bigelow?”

Justin nodded.

“Of course. One of our premier varsity athletes. Always a pleasure. You’re also Stanfield Bigelow’s son, correct?”

“You have a good memory, but really, I’m just here as a chaperone and bodyguard to keep Lilah’s adoring fans at bay. This weekend is about her, after all.”

“You’re right, of course,” the president replied. “Shall we?” He ushered Lilah into the rotunda with its soaring cupola. The interior had been restored to its former glory and the woodwork and walls were painted with period-appropriate faux marbling.

“Your parents must be very proud,” he said.

“I think they certainly respect my work, and they were delighted to hear about the award—especially from Grantham. I’m an only child, and to have their daughter not only get in but be honored by the university is like a dream come true for them. I’m the first person in my family ever to go to college outside the state, let alone an Ivy League institution. In fact, my dad’s coming in later today for the ceremony on Saturday.”

“Not both your parents? I thought—” the president said, looking momentarily baffled.

“No, my mother is unable to come. She’s the principal of the elementary school on Orcas Island, and they still have another week to go, including their own little graduation. It wouldn’t do for the principal to miss that.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Justin’s eyebrows seemed raised to new heights as he gazed at the university president. And that the president, after less than a moment’s hesitation, seemed to respond to some telepathic communication.

He refocused on her. “Yes. It would be a long way to come from Washington State for such a short period of time,” he said with what sounded like genuine understanding. Then he held out his arm to guide her through the hallway to the smaller dining room. “We go this way,” he said with extreme largesse. The Queen couldn’t have been treated more royally.

Lilah stepped across the dark-stained wood floors under the watchful gaze of nineteenth-century portraits of old white men and then hesitated slightly. The only other time she’d been in Edinburgh House had been as a freshman when there was a welcoming reception for new students. Actually, to be technically correct, she’d never been in the house, only the terraced garden in the back. She, along with the other nervous newcomers, had formed a serpentine line along the gravel paths that bisected the formal beds of perennials. The then-president had been Eleanor Henrietta Nesmith, an expert on Victorian literature who the alums adored for her devotion to the football team. She had held forth in front of the bubbling fountain, greeting each new Grantham student with a sturdy handshake as twin carved-stone fish spouted water playfully from their bounteous lips.

“You all right?” Justin whispered behind her and touched the small of her back.

The feel of his fingertips through her loose-fitting black jacket didn’t help her regain her bearings one bit. But at least the jolt of contact helped her avoid turning into the cloakroom by mistake.

“Here we are,” Ted announced and waited as she passed through tall double doors—to a whole throng of people.

Lilah gulped. “I thought this was a private lunch?” She had been anticipating that the three of them would sit at a small table discussing world politics, or baseball or the annual alumni fund drive or whatever it was one talked to university presidents about.

“I thought you’d enjoy meeting some of the university trustees. They’re in for one of their regular meetings, of course.”

“Of course.” She felt like a broken record.

“And I knew there were several who were interested in meeting you,” Ted said, encouraging her to go in. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Mind?” Lilah asked. Sure, she was used to talking to individuals to raise money for her foundation, but they were usually like-minded women who already knew about her work. But a bunch of middle-aged banker types or insurance execs who held a soft spot for the old orange-and-black of Grantham University? She was not exactly in her element.

Justin leaned closer. “Don’t worry. They’ll love you,” he whispered.

She knew he meant to make her feel better. But if only she didn’t feel the flutter of his breath on the sensitive skin of her neck. She closed her eyes a moment to regroup, and out of nowhere, the mental image appeared of him placing his lips right where the molecules of air tickled her epidermis.

Her eyes flashed open. Just in time to see a moderately tall woman in a very expensive-looking suit—Lilah didn’t know designers, but she figured it was one of the best, given the way it hugged her form—and a humongous strand of pearls, immediately descended on her. She had her hand outstretched. A hand with a giant diamond ring, Lilah noticed.

“Vivian Pierpoint,” she announced, her first and last names coming out in a rapid staccato. She took an equally swift gulp from her champagne glass. “I can’t tell you how delighted I am that you won the alumni award instead of some banker from Biloxi.” She punctuated her words with a ringing laugh and an insider’s wink.

Lilah put out her hand, but found herself leaning forward in order to catch every syllable.

“Vivian is the CEO of eSales, the successful online auction company, and member of the class of ’82,” Justin said by way of identification. He held out his hand as well, introducing himself.

Vivian smiled, her lips close to the rim of her glass. “That’s right. You were the genius who nominated Lilah.”

“I like to think I was merely recognizing Lilah’s genius,” he said diplomatically.

Vivian waggled her perfectly arched eyebrows. “How delightful.”

Lilah was ready for them to exchange phone numbers. “He always was a charmer.”

Justin looked at her. “When you have limited capabilities—”

“Here we go again. I know, I know. You work with what you have.” She finished his sentence.

Vivian glanced from one to the other. “So you two are…ah…close?”

Lilah cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t necessarily say that.”

“We just go back a ways,” Justin explained.

“Classmates,” Lilah said.

“Friends,” Justin added.

“More, friends of friends.”

“More friend of a friend,” Justin specified.

Vivian opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything.

At least Lilah didn’t think she said anything, but it was quite possibly because a waiter strolled by with drinks, distracting her for a few moments. Lilah took the sparkling water. She had to drive to the airport to pick up her dad later in the afternoon, and she wanted to be clearheaded.

“Do you still keep up with any of your classmates from Grantham, besides Justin here?” Vivian deposited her empty flute on the tray and took a full one.

“I really don’t keep up with Justin.”

“It’s more an accident of circumstances,” Justin explained.

“Just my kind of accident.” Vivian smiled. “Any other college friends then—accidental or otherwise?”

“I guess the only person I see on a regular basis is Mimi Lodge, my old roommate. The television news correspondent?”

“Certainly. I remember the piece she did on your organization. I can’t tell you how inspiring it was. But then if you’re friends with Mimi, you obviously know Noreen Lodge then, too,” she added without missing a beat.

Lilah processed her rapid speech as best as possible. “Mimi’s stepmother, you mean? Actually, I just met her. You know her through Mimi’s dad, Conrad, her husband, then? The Grantham University connection?”

“Not through Conrad, though I have met him. Business at certain levels is a fairly small world, if you know what I mean.”

Lilah was beginning to realize this more and more.

“Noreen and I met at Trinity College in Dublin,” Vivian explained. “I spent my junior year abroad there.”

“Really? That must have been a wonderful experience.” In hindsight, Lilah wished she had done something similar, but at the time she would never have considered being away from Stephen for so long. What an idiot.

“Yes, it opened my eyes to art and architecture, not to mention Irish whiskey.” Vivian cleared her throat. “But of course what you really remember from experiences like that is the people you meet.”

“I know what you mean. My friend Esther in Congo has completely revolutionized the way I look at that country,” Lilah said. She turned to Justin, who she realized was being left out. “Wouldn’t you agree about the importance of people connections?”

“Totally. I wouldn’t be in early education if I didn’t value the importance of socializing. But I don’t want to interrupt Vivian while she was telling us about Noreen.”

Vivian mugged to Lilah. “He’s so sweet, and indulgent,” she said. “Now, where was I? Oh, right.” She happily rattled on. “Noreen. An interesting person—far more so than meets the eye. Back in university she had a double degree—economics and public health. Got a first, you know.”

“No, I didn’t.” Lilah figured Vivian was referring to a degree with top honors. “I just know she was the Lodge’s nanny—not that there’s anything wrong with that—before she married Mimi’s father. And she definitely has a certain fashion sense that I envy but could never personally carry off.”

Vivian threw back her head in laughter. “I know what you mean. Noreen has this compulsive-perfectionist side to her that comes out in whatever she’s doing—whether it’s being the perfectly groomed trophy wife or the most organized mother in a child-centric privileged community like Grantham. To me, her current phase, while genuine, is also a sign of boredom. No, let me tell you more about the Noreen I know.”

Vivian sat back in her chair. “Just before Noreen was supposed to graduate, her father died suddenly. He’d been a source of inspiration her whole life. A poor boy from a coal mining town made good—scholarship to university, medical degree, the whole bit. Yet despite the fact that he could have had a much more affluent lifestyle, he insisted on going back to his childhood home in the poorer neighborhoods of Belfast and caring for the locals. As if that wasn’t enough of a sacrifice, he packed up the family one month a year to go to Africa, where he volunteered at a clinic in Zimbabwe. Noreen always claimed the experience was transformative. So it wasn’t any surprise, given her sterling academic record and her personal connection, that she was considering various offers from places like the World Health Organization for work when she graduated—not to mention various financial institutions with interests in development in Africa.”

Lilah shook her head. “I don’t understand. If that was the case, how on earth did she become a nanny in the U.S.?”

“Actually, the whole nanny thing was my idea,” Vivian confessed. “Her father’s death devastated her—totally. Still, after graduation, she started working for the International Monetary Fund on their African desk, but after a little more than a year, she decided to take a leave of absence. It was all too much. Well-meaning but interfering friend that I am, that’s when I convinced her that what she needed was a complete change of scenery—to regroup and stop punishing herself for not somehow living up to the memory of her sainted father.”

She lowered her chin. “Naturally, I didn’t use those exact words. Anyway, I encouraged her to come to the States since she’d never traveled here before. I told her that the easiest kind of job to get was as a nanny—that an agency could work out her visa status. I thought it would be perfect—no confining office, no frantic deadlines. Although, neither she nor I ever counted on it being more than a year’s break before she went back to Ireland or points beyond. Let me tell you, the jobs were still waiting for her. But—” Vivian held up her hands “—the rest, in particular her marriage to Conrad, is, as they say, history.”

“Well, after all that, I hope she’s happy,” Lilah responded. “And now that I know more about her, I’m less—how can I put this—confused. I mean, I understand there’s more to her than meets the eye…”