Bayou Born(28)

More than halfway through the list, James called out, “Andres Parker?”

A stout, brick-wall-type of guy near the back of the room raised his hand. “Bubba,” he said. Giggles circled the room.

“Naw, he’s already claimed ‘Bubba.’ Give me another name or we’ll have Bubba 1 and Bubba 2. Or B1 and B2. You get the picture. It’s your nickname. You two work it out and let me know what you want to do.”

Andres scowled. “Parker,” he growled. “You call me Parker.”

“Okay, Parker it is.” James wrote the name on the seating chart. That was one name he’d not forget. “Now, for more alliteration. Where’s Pamela P. Preston?”

A pretty blonde in a pink tennis outfit sat in the middle of the second row and gave a princess wave. A diamond bracelet dangled on her wrist. She stood, gathered her bag and moved as though she might be an actress making a grand stage entrance. She walked to the front of the room, where she stood next to him. She almost reached his full height of six feet. He wondered how she had decided on Lakeview for college.

“Miss Preston, please take a seat over there.” He pointed to the third row.

“I prefer Bubba.” She spoke with a pronounced drawl and batted her eyelashes.

James met her gaze. “You prefer him, or to sit by him, or you prefer to be called Bubba?” The class burst into giggles. Ms. Preston wasn’t fazed.

Buddy “Bubba” Davis, seated at the end of the first row, leaned over and pulled the desk next to him closer. He patted the seat, inviting the blonde to sit. “Why honey, you look more like a ‘Barbie’ than a ‘Bubba’ to me.”

The class roared with laughter.

James managed to keep a straight face. “Miss Preston, do you have a nickname you’d like me to use?”

She lowered her eyelids until they were half closed, and then she purred, “Barbie will do just fine.”

This group would make for an interesting six weeks. Good thing, because he hadn’t planned on teaching summer school, but thanks to Dr. Brown’s mentoring assignment and the hiring of Miss Lind, if he had to show up four days a week, this class would make it worth the while.

He finished checking the student roll, then said, “Now that I have your names, including Bubba’s and Barbie’s, let’s get down to business. Each of you will stand and gives us a speech. At least one minute long. I’ll time you. Tell us where you’re from and what you want to do when you graduate from this place.”

He coached a few of his shyer students through their impromptu speech. A few he had to reign in, though he managed that with nothing more than a stern glare. He was pleased when the students needed no encouragement from him to applaud for their classmates.

“Next item, here’s the syllabus. Pass it around.” He handed off the stack of paper to Barbie. “This is a new communications class. There will be several projects, speeches, presentations, and a couple of short papers. This class moves quickly with only six weeks to cover what is usually done in fifteen or sixteen. You cannot afford to fall behind. Class participation is part of your grade and I guarantee, I’ll call on each one of you at least once in every class. Read chapter one for Wednesday.” Murmurs filtered back to him along with the sound of rustling paper.

“Individual speeches, group speeches, methods of electronic communication...” Bubba read aloud. “A pantomime presentation? What the heck is that?”

With an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders, James stretched out his arms, palms up, then put an index finger to his lips. Next he turned, then lifted his foot knee-high and stepped an exaggerated step, each step taking him closer to the door. Soundlessly, he pointed to the hall. He gestured with his hands, encouraging his students to leave.

Barbie took the hint first. She picked up the paper from her desk, her tote bag, and gathered her purse. Laughing, her classmates lined up as if following a mother duck. James waved goodbye as each student crossed the threshold. He grinned until he looked from the doorway into the hall where Branna stood.

“Of course,” she said. “Laughter would be coming from Dr. Newbern’s class. He would be that type of teacher.”

He considered a snappy retort, but she was gone. “Miss Lind, you are an irritating, but unforgettably-hot-type,” he sighed, remembering the heat of her kisses. Obviously, when it came to her, he’d thrown all professionalism out the window.

There was nothing left to do but go for it.





Chapter 19

Branna gave three light raps on the closed door. She hadn’t intended to kick a man when he was down. Their exchange in the hall bothered her, and she needed to clear the air.

“Enter.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, come on in. What’s up?” His mouth curled into a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You look like you could use a friend. I was only teasing a few minutes ago in the hall.”

When she sat in the chair next to his desk, a silver rattle with a pink bow tied around the handle caught her eye. That was the object she saw him with before. Was there a connection to the person on the phone and the rattle? Did James have a child? Maybe a niece or nephew?

A second of panic hit her. Surely, he didn’t have a wife. No, if he were married, the honorable Dr. James Newbern wouldn’t have been out with her, let alone done everything else they’d shared. He wouldn’t cheat on a woman. He wasn’t Steven.

“Really? A friend?”

“My first class is starting in ten minutes, but how about lunch when it’s over?” Maybe she could cheer him up. Maybe she’d regale him with funny stories about Fleur de Lis, which could make him smile and ward off the homesickness hanging in her heart.

Bang!

The glass doors to the office suite rattled as if someone shoved them open so hard the handles had hit the wall. The vibration reverberated through room. Immediately, James rose, and she followed him out of his office.

In the lobby, Sadie struggled with a huge vase, the size of an urn, filled with red and pink long stemmed roses in a mass with white Baby’s Breath. With one hand, Sadie tried to maneuver paperwork out of the way on the top of her desk. She clutched the vase close to her chest, trying to keep it balanced. James rushed to help. He grabbed the vase and lifted it out of the way. With a quick flourish, Sadie shoved everything on her desktop to one side.

“Miss Lind, aren’t the flowers beautiful. Did you two have a fight?”

Branna looked at James. “No. Why?”

“Then why wouldn’t you want these lovely flowers from your fiancé?”

Confusion flashed across James’ face. His eyebrows rose, silently asking the unspoken question.

Why did he always think the worst of her?

“I do not have a fiancé. I am not engaged. See—” She held up her ring-less left hand and wiggled her fingers as evidence of the truth. “No ring. I’m not engaged.”

Sadie’s doubtful frown focused on James then back at her. “Miss Lind, I don’t think I mixed up the details. Steven definitely said he was engaged to you.”

“Oh see. The optimal word in that sentence is was. As in, ‘not any more’ for seven-plus months. I will never marry that man.”

“Well, Steven told me—”

“Sadie, believe me when I tell you, you can’t believe what he says. I learned that the hard way.”

Sadie shrugged. Her brow creased in doubt.

Branna tried to hold on to calm. Would she ever escape the tentacles of Steven’s charm? Her immunity to him had finally reached maximum capacity. What he did or didn’t do, didn’t matter one wit to her.

With anger simmering below the surface, frustration overflowing, her eyes watered. She sniffed deeply, then doubled her resolve. Annoyed was the only reaction she’d allow to his interference. At some point, her continued rejection of him would penetrate his ego, right? Then he would pursue someone else. Someone not in her family. Hopefully, that would happen sooner than later.

“Enjoy the flowers, Sadie. I’m off to my first class. It’s going to be a great day.” Turning from the two doubting faces, she stepped toward her office for her tote bag. The door clicked locked when she pulled it closed. “James, my offer for lunch is still open. Let me know.”

Pushing open the glass office door, she crossed the threshold and strode down the hall. Her short-heeled sandals tip-tapped, tip-tapped as she strode purposefully down the hall. Meandering students cleared a path. She ignored the bashful glances and the occasional stares.

“If Steven thinks he can needle his way back into my life, he needs medication. The strong stuff,” she muttered as she trekked. “Who does he think he is?”

But she knew. Steven Sterling was everyone’s darling in Mississippi. He came from a family with old money and an antebellum home, plus all the bucks in the world to keep the place as a private residence. Unlike Fleur de Lis which, though still a private home, offered access to the public as a way to offset upkeep expenses. Strangers often roamed the property. They liked to escape from the tours. Once she found someone in the restroom upstairs, an area marked off-limits with a sign and velvet rope.