Shon wore a blue V-neck cotton sweater and khaki pants. He perfected his preppy look with perfectly gelled hair and loafers without socks. He'd dressed in collegiate clothing because it gave him confidence. He needed all he could get to view Jeannie as a friend instead of a potential lover.
He waited for Jeannie in the lobby's shadows, going over his greeting in whispered breaths. Shon had done a lot of thinking since Jeannie had called it quits. He didn't like the man he'd become. He'd written a paper in exchange for favors, and he'd treated both Jeannie and Bekka abominably.
Well, Bekka had known what she was getting into, but Jeannie hadn't, and now she only wanted to be friends. It served him right. He'd bother her no more.
A low whistle broke him from his thoughts.
He turned his head, noticing Jeannie and the attractive woman she'd come in withâthe one that was smiling as she eyed him up and down. Shon returned the look, liking what he saw.
The Latina responded to his admiration by sucking the back of her teeth and giving him a lewd wink. Flames of red heat blossomed in Shon's cheeks.
A woman he found attractive had returned his glance. He liked the change. Normally he wanted to be the pursuer, and that was why Bekka didn't do much for him. But, under the Latina's seductive gaze, Shon grew uncharacteristically shy. He threw a smile at the grinning woman and then walked over to where Jeannie stood by the reception desk.
"Hey, Jeannie."
Jeannie glanced up briefly from the paperwork the receptionist had given her. "Hey, Shon... I'm going to go sit over there and finish these papers." She pointed to a row of small cubicles. "Why don't you go on ahead?"
Jeannie walked away before Shon could reply. A soft laugh rang in Shon's ears, and he turned to see the Latina chuckling. Her protruding teeth, which Shon thought were beyond sexy, were on full display.
Shon puffed out his chest, smiling back.
Maybe being friends with Jeannie wouldn't be so bad.
Dr. Share Longborn was a petite woman with wispy black hair and a pointed, elfin face. Her ears were large, and her blue eyes were small and beady. She wasn't a beauty, but she did have brains, and that's all she needed. Renowned and respected in her field, Share had received several accolades on her articles and research of biological warfare.
All that was well and good, but if her deepest, darkest secret ever came out, she'd be ruined.
Share Longborn loved to gamble.
A lot.
Share had amassed such a massive debt, every casino in the area refused her entry until she paid in full. Dr. Longborn had tried, but she'd run out of options to raise money.
She'd pawned all of her jewelry.
The finance company had repossessed her luxury car.
The house was twice re-mortgaged.
She had sold her furniture and fixtures two months ago at a firehouse garage sale where everything must go!
All Share had left was an air mattress on the floor, a rack of clothes the consignment shop clerk had turned her nose up at, and a few pairs of scuffed shoes lined up by her front door.
However, two weeks ago, her fortune had changed for the better.
Share had been at a hotel bar, slowly getting drunk on sloe gin fizzes, when a white-haired man with the slight Eastern Slavic accent had approached her.
Handsome, flirty, and an empathetic listener, he was just what she needed to keep her mind off her troubles. He'd bought her drink after drink while Share parceled out pieces of her woeful tale until it was all out in the open.
When the white-haired man suggested they go to his hotel room, she'd readily agreed. The dalliances they shared between the sheets had been wholly satisfactory. Afterward, Dr. Longborn was more than amiable to do anything the man asked of her.
And he didn't want much.
All Share had to do was recommend Jeannie Jones and Shon Westwood to the Student Collaboration Project (SCP) in exchange for a bank account full of cash and her considerable debts cleared.
Dr. Longborn didn't hesitate to agree. On paper, the SCP was a group of bright young men and women from around the world who participated in a think tank on how to remove the threat of bio-weapons as a tool of warfare. In practice, The SCP was just a club of know-it-all, Type-A youngsters who fought more than they solved any issues.
Share thought the request was harmless enough. She'd already been planning to ask Shon to join as he would fit right in, but Jeannie Jones was different. She was a sweet girl, and the doctor didn't want her infected by the poison from the group.
Share soon changed her mind as the money the white-haired man offered was just too tempting to resist. Not wanting to get directly involved in Jeannie's corruption, she'd asked Shon to ask her instead.
Shon had called her yesterday with the good news. Jeannie had agreed and Share, just like Pontius Pilate, absolved herself of all guilt.
Or so she kept telling herself.
In any case, the white-haired man kept good on his promise. Her accountant had called just as she was getting dressed to tell her a long-lost aunt had passed away and a checkâlarge enough to cover her debts with plenty left overâwould be FedExed to him that afternoon.
Her accountant had told the professor to count her lucky stars. And she hadâthe stars on the Lucky Seven slot machine she would hit up as soon as the stupid SCP meeting was over. Dr. Longborn had chosen a seat close to the door. She now swiveled her stool in small arcs, counting the minutes until it was casino time. Barring traffic, she would soon be sipping on a sloe gin fizz and pulling hard on the handle. She could hardly wait. Share looked at her faux Rolex, soundlessly urging the seconds to go faster.
The meeting with the other students occurred via a video conference call. Eight pairs of brilliant minds together in one place and it was worse than a kindergarten playground at recess.
Interruptions, snide remarks, and a few rude gestures, added fuel to an already simmering fire.
"Listen, idiot," Todd Whitcomb, a beefy blond from the west coast of the US, told Tung Chen, a dark-haired boy from China. "We've been over this already, yet you keep bringing it up. We can't go against protocol and ask the world's leaders for their input ... it just isn't done."
Tung didn't miss Todd's insult, and he quickly fired back. "Look, fat man," Tung began, "all I'm asking is to try. As you American's say, 'what is the harm in that?'"
Todd turned beet red. He flexed the tidal wave of flesh on his arms as his eyes shot daggers at Tung.
"He has a point. Don't you agree, Ms. Jones?" Willard Stone, an Australian student with sandy hair and piercing blue eyes, asked Jeannie.
"Why, yes. Yes, of course," Jeannie said, blushing at Willard's cheeky grin.
"I agree with Tung. Why can't we just ask?" Shon piped up, wanting Jeannie to relay to her friend how he'd taken charge in the meeting.
All the other students, except Todd, murmured their agreement. They were tired of the same argument which had gone on for months. Todd had ruled the group with an iron fist, shutting down every proposal that wasn't his own. It was time to mutiny. They were more than ready to support a leader and the new guy, Shon, was it.
Todd did his best to burn a hole in Shon's face from almost 3,000 miles away. He ground his teeth and smacked his gums. He then parted his rubbery lips in a feral smile. "Look, newbie. You haven't turned a modicum of dirt in this group. Why don't you just sit back and shut up until you've been here longer than a minute."
Shon's face colored so quickly, Jeannie thought he'd submerged his head in boiling water. Willard chuckled, and Shon shot him a laser beam glare for his offense.
After cutting his eyes at Willard, Shon turned his attention back Todd. "Listen here, cretin," he spat, not one to suffer an insult. "I've got as much right to speak as anyone else." Shon flickered his eyes to each participant. "And by the looks on everyone's faces, they're tired of hearing the undulation coming from the sieve in the middle of your face."
The students' laughter made the speakers whine in protest. Jeannie joined in for a moment until the pounding of a tension headache shut her down. The testosterone on screen and from the man sitting beside her had worn down her last nerve.
Jeannie drifted away in thought, shutting out the arguing. The meeting had helped her to forget Thorne for a minute, but he quickly came back into her thoughts. While the students continued to go back and forth, Jeannie devised the perfect plan to determine if Thorne was for real...or if he were playing her.
Her idea was to tell Thorne she was an agent and that her mission was to convince Shon to join her side. If Thorne truly cared for her as Carmen said, he would put their differences aside and help her figure a way out of the mess she'd gotten herself into.
And if he didn't ...
Then all hell would break loose.