Two Lips, Indifferent Red

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Earth to Kipp!”

“Sorry.” I sighed, unhappy to realize, even after three years, thoughts of Daniel could still disturb me. Although even now I would walk out of the room or turn off the television whenever Terminator vs. Predator: Earth’s Last Stand, the movie he’d taken me to see, came on. “So what does she want?”

“Beats me. She says she’s your father’s personal assistant.”

“You could have told me that to begin with.” God, he was such a d**k.

“What? And spoil seeing you get all flustered that some deluded woman was willing to give you the time of day?”

We’d roomed together this entire school year, and never once had I looped a tie around the doorknob, indicating I was entertaining someone of the feminine persuasion and he should find other accommodations for the evening. How could Scott not have picked up I was gay?

But I had other things to worry about, and I brushed thoughts of him out of my mind. The only time Sir had Ms. Clive contact me was to tell me it wouldn’t be convenient for me to come home or when my allowance was going to be reduced again, and by now there really wasn’t much left to it.

As for my tuition, that had become strictly my responsibility. Originally, it was going to be paid out of the trust fund my mother had set up for me before I was born, but when I’d declared my intent to pursue a degree in interior design, Granddad became so furious I thought he’d have a stroke. He refused to allow me access to that money. He refused to see me.

For the majority of my life, the one person I could depend on loving me was my grandfather. To have that love withdrawn hurt more than the indifference my father had always shown toward me.

I tried calling Granddad, but Beauchamp, his butler, told me he wasn’t available to speak to me.

During my first month at the university, my roommate thought I was a “horny bastard” because of all the showers I took, but it was simply because that was the only place where I could cry without being heard and made fun of.

But I’d learned over the years that crying accomplished nothing, and so I stiffened my spine and determined to make the best grades I could, for myself, if not for Granddad.

Sir had never gotten along with my maternal grandfather, and I suspected that was why my father had paid for my freshman year, but I’d been stunned when he informed me he would not pay for my remaining three years at Charles T. Armand University. I wasn’t eligible for a Pell Grant, since the family income was considerably over the maximum amount allowed, and I’d had to scramble to apply for every scholarship available. I was also working part time at Georg’s. Hunter, the owner, had chosen a German lover’s name for his interior design business.

He had started with a single store eighteen years earlier and had eventually taken over the entire strip mall. I did some rapid calculations. If Hunter could increase my hours, and if I took on students to tutor, I might have enough to cover next semester’s expenses.

Well, standing here was only delaying the bad news. I took the phone from my roommate and pointed toward the door.

“Don’t I get to listen?”

“In a word? No. Please leave.”

“You’re no fun,” he said petulantly. But he walked out.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Clive. I’m sorry for the delay. How are things in Martinsburg?”

“The city is as it’s always been. Your father needs you to come home immediately.” She never had been one for small talk.

“I’m in the middle of finals for the spring semester.”

“That’s immaterial. A ticket is waiting for you at the Greyhound depot.”

A bus instead of the family jet? The last time I’d been…instructed to come home, Sir had sent the jet. Of course that had been seven years earlier, when I’d been at boarding school, but…I shook my head and set that aside for the time being.

“I have two finals left. If I don’t take these tests I’ll get an incomplete and won’t be able to—”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Llewellyn expects you home immediately. At any rate, you won’t be returning to college. As per your father’s instructions, I’ve already spoken to the registrar.”

“But—”

“Llewellyn, Inc. is on the verge of…an important merger.”

Something was going on. I might not want to become part of Llewellyn, Inc., but I’d been around Sir enough to pick up on that slight hesitation. What was happening?

“Why does Sir want me? Geoff’s home, isn’t he?”

Geoff had gone to Harvard Business School, as Sir had wished, and was being groomed to take Sir’s place one day.

Parents were supposed to love their children equally, but I’d known since forever Geoff was the favored child.

“Geoffrey isn’t…suitable. Mr. Llewellyn wants you.”

I felt as if I’d taken a blow to the chest. After all these years, there was finally something I could do that my brother couldn’t. Of course I had no idea what that might be, but…

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

I almost dropped the phone before I could end the call, and I stared at my hands. They were shaking. I curled my fingers into fists and drew in a breath.

All right. Sir wanted me. But I wasn’t about to throw away the education I’d worked so hard for. I’d go to see my professors and ask about taking the finals now.

* * * *

Professor Montgomery permitted me to take his final right then, without batting an eye, but when I went to see Dr. Fordham afterward, he stared at me over his glasses and said, “The final is at three forty-five. You will be here to take it, or you will get a fail. And it will bring down your GPA.”

“I’ll be here.” I didn’t bother trying to argue with him—the man had no heart. Word around campus was he’d said the same thing after midterms, when one of his students asked to make up the test he’d missed because he’d spent the night in the hospital with his critically ill mother.

There was no way I’d be able to take Fordham’s final and still make the bus. It was too bad there wasn’t another bus this evening, but ce qui sera, sera, as Granddad was fond of saying. What must be, will.

Fortunately, I was able to exchange my ticket for the next day. It was only a matter of twenty-four hours difference, and I was sure Sir could spare me that. I called Ms. Clive. She was out of the office, so I left a message.

“I’m sorry, I was able to reschedule one of my finals, but I have no choice about the second. I’ll arrive in Martinsburg tomorrow by midafternoon, four o’clock at the latest, I promise. Please offer Sir my apologies and ask him to send Pierce at that time. Thanks very much. Goodbye.”

I half expected a blistering call in response, but to my surprise, none came.

With some time to kill before Dr. Fordham’s final, I decided to call my dream man.