All We Ever Wanted(35)

   I watched him pay, drop his change into the tip jar, and collect his coffee before heading back my way. I lowered my head and took a few deep breaths, still uncertain of exactly what I was going to say.

A moment later he was sitting across from me. I watched him flip the lid off his coffee with his thumb, then wave the steam away from the cup. As he met my gaze, my mind went blank. Why wasn’t I better prepared? No wonder Kirk never trusted me to take important meetings alone.

Tom spoke first, saving me, though I knew that wasn’t his intention. “You look familiar,” he said, squinting a little. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Maybe just from Windsor?”

“No. It’s not that,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel like it’s something else….Longer ago.”

I bit my lip, starting to sweat, and wishing I hadn’t worn silk. “I don’t know…I’m not very good with faces. Sometimes I think I have that disorder….”

“Which disorder is that?” he said with a slight tilt of his head. “The one where you don’t pay attention?”

I was pretty sure he’d just made a jab at me, implying that I was self-absorbed. But I was in no position to be defensive. So I simply said, “No. It’s a real thing. Facial blindness, I think it’s called….I’m pretty sure I have a touch of that…but anyway.”

   “Yes. Anyway,” he echoed, glancing down to put the lid back on his coffee. It took him a second to get it on, pressing it all around the perimeter, clearly in no rush whatsoever. He raised the cup to his lips and took a long sip before looking at me again. This time he didn’t save me.

“So,” I finally said. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“I’m sorry. Can’t help you there,” he said, with the first real trace of animosity.

“I know…I just…Well, as I said in the email, I don’t think my husband handled things with you the right way….”

Tom nodded, his light brown eyes somewhere between cool and loathing. “Oh, you mean his attempt to buy me off?”

My stomach dropped. “Yes,” I said. “That. Among other things.”

It fleetingly occurred to me that Tom could have already deposited or spent the money—and then what would I be saying about him as well? But no, he had used the word attempt.

Sure enough, he reached into his back pocket for his wallet, opened it, and pulled out a stack of crisp, new bills. He slid the pile of cash across the table. I looked down and saw Benjamin Franklin’s familiar grimace, feeling queasy as I tried to formulate a sentence.

“For what it’s worth, I can’t believe he did this,” I said, staring down at the money. “I mean I know that he did…give you this…but I had nothing to do with his decision. This isn’t how I wanted to handle things.”

“And how did you want to handle things?”

I told him I didn’t know exactly.

   He winced, then took another sip of coffee. “But you weren’t in favor of bribery?” he asked.

“No,” I said, completely flustered. “I had no idea he was going to give you…this.”

“Yep. Fifteen thousand dollars,” Tom said, glancing at the stack again. “And it’s all there.”

I looked down at it, shaking my head.

“So? What was he bribing me to do, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” I said, meeting his gaze again.

He gave me an incredulous look that bordered on a smile. “You don’t know?”

I swallowed and made myself say what I really thought. “I believe that he was trying to…motivate you to tell Walter Quarterman that you don’t think Finch should go before the Windsor Honor Council.”

“You mean bribe me.”

“Yes.”

“And what do you think?”

“What do you mean?” I stammered.

“Do you think Finch should go before the Honor Council?”

I nodded. “Yes. I do, actually.”

“Why?” he fired back.

“Because what he did was wrong. So wrong. And I think he needs to face some consequences.”

“Such as?” Tom pressed.

“Well, I don’t know….Whatever the school decides is right….”

Tom let out a caustic laugh.

“What’s funny?” I said, feeling a stab of indignation. Couldn’t he see how hard I was trying? Couldn’t he cut me a break? Just a small one?

   “Nothing’s funny…believe me,” he said, his smile fading into another stony gaze.

We stared at each other for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and said, “I was just wondering, Nina…how much do you and your husband give to the school? Above and beyond tuition?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, although it was perfectly clear what he was getting at.

“I mean…do you have any buildings named after you on Windsor’s campus?”

“No,” I said, although we did have a conference room in the library named after us. And a fountain. “Honestly, I don’t see how that is relevant….Despite what Kirk tried to do—which is awful—Mr. Quarterman isn’t like that—”