Bad Professor (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (13 page)

He
buried his head in his hands again. "And not just for me. If I speak out
or try to fight this, then they'll ruin things for Clarity too. Oh, god, what
have I done?"

I
looked at the ceiling but the tug in my chest did not loosen. "You did
this for Clarity, didn't you?" I asked.

"Of
course I did. When I met Michael Tailor at the donors' dinner, it turned out
his friend is the owner of Wire Communications," Patrick explained.

I
sat back down as if pushed. "Yeah, I know him."

"So,
I mentioned to Michael how interested Clarity was in the Wire Communications
internship and he promised to put in a good word for her."

Clarity's
father bolted to his feet and stomped around the coffee table. "I was
trying to help her and now I can't even help myself. Damn it!" He kicked
the coffee table leg and continued to pace. "All I can do is sit here and
suffocate while I wait for Clarity to come home. Oh, god, I hope she doesn't
hear about it from someone on campus."

"I
know exactly how you feel," I said. "Like a fish caught in a net. Let
me guess, if you go ahead and fix that application, then this will all just go
away."

Patrick
growled and stomped the floor harder. "I can't do that. I'm not going to
do that. It's one thing for Michael Tailor to trick me, but it's another to
give in to his bullying. I just wish there was some way to get Clarity out of
the line of fire."

I
stood up and faced him. "All you have to do is tell your daughter the
truth. She's going to want to fight for you and I can't think of a better
person to be on your side," I said.

The
shadow of a smile appeared on the dean's face. "True. I'll tell her
everything." His relief was short-lived as he thought about all the other
fallout from his suspension. "Why did this have to happen now? There are
so many little political fires going on all over campus and the president used
to trust my input."

I
snorted. "Then he should take your side over the big money, don't you
think?"

Patrick
waved that thought away. "It's not so easy balancing everything a college
administrator has thrown at them. He's doing the right thing, but now my hands
are tied."

"You
just worry about yourself and Clarity," I suggested.

"No,"
Patrick said. "I had been slated to make certain personnel recommendations
that would affect a large number of students. You are one of the professors in
question. Without my recommendation, the college is just going to go ahead with
across the board lay-offs. This is going to be awful for the students."

"The
students need to see the way things are run. If they don't like it, they are
the only ones that can change it," I said.

Patrick
came over and squeezed my shoulder. "Ford, I'm so sorry, but this might
directly affect you job in the School of Journalism."

I
laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. "As if I don't know that
Florence Macken has it in for me," I said. "Don't worry about
me."

"But
I could have helped you," Patrick lamented.

I
shrugged off his hand. "I didn't ask for your help. That's not why I
befriended you," I snapped.

The
dean chuckled. "And here I thought I befriended you. I gotta say, that's
the best thing I've heard all day. Thank you, Ford."

I
didn't want to smile, but it broke through anyway. "Oh, to hell with it. What's
the point in my fancy journalism degree and all my experience if I can't rattle
a few cages?"

Patrick's
eyes turned serious. "No. I'm not going to have you endangering your
position at Landsman just to help me out. I got myself into this mess and I'll
figure a way out of it. Like you said, I've got Clarity to help me."

The
mention of her name cemented my resolve. "Sorry, Patrick, but you wanted
to be my friend and now you're stuck with me. Besides, if I'm going to get
fired anyway, I might as well do some good on my way out."

#

I
left the dean in a much
lighter mood and raced back towards campus. The fact that I had class soon was
a far second to finding Clarity. Her father's news would spread fast all over
campus, and I was sure she was going to hear about it from someone any second.

I
charged towards the Language Department, where I knew Clarity was just
finishing her required course. Landsman College required all students to master
a foreign language and she had become quite good at Spanish.

"Hola,
Professor Bauer," a student called as I neared the building's front steps.

"Hi,
Ben," I said as I slowed my pace.

"You
looking for someone?" he asked.

I
pressed two fingers to my throat and looked at my watch. "Nah, just trying
to get my heart rate up before I'm stuck in another lecture," I said.

The
student laughed and went on his way just before Clarity emerged. Her red hair
flared as she stepped into the sunshine, and then her emerald eyes clapped onto
me.

"Clarity,
wait," I said.

She
took off at a fast clip across the lawn towards the library. I used the
sidewalk in the same direction and hoped that it was not too obvious to the
other students that I was chasing her.

Clarity
dodged through the double doors of the library before could charge up the
steps. I didn't dare call out in the echoing lobby. I pretended to glance into
the research librarian's office on my way past, just in case anyone wondered
why I was tearing through the library stacks.

Then
I spun and followed her down the staircase. Her clattering footsteps
disappeared before the basement floor and I knew she was cutting through the
archives. I sped back upstairs, through the periodicals and into a second
staircase. Back down on the half floor, I cursed the old library's maze like
design. Finally, I had to run in order to catch Clarity.

She
must have heard me coming because she jogged into another alcove where a hidden
set of steps acted as an open fire escape. I ran after her and we both popped
out into the arch-ceilinged reference room at the same time. Clarity rounded
the long, low bookshelves and made one last dodge near the Oxford English
Dictionary.

"Clarity,
please, I need to talk to you. It has to do with your father," I hissed.

Clarity
stopped cold. "My father? Is he okay? What happened?" She dug in her
backpack for her cell phone and turned her back on me. "Why isn't he
answering my call?"

"He's
waiting for you to come home so he can tell you the truth, face to face,"
I said.

"Then
why are you chasing me all over campus?" Clarity snapped. "I need to
go home."

I
held up both hands and stopped her. "I wanted you to hear it from me,
before anyone stops you on campus," I said.

"Hear
what?" Clarity cried.

I
took a deep breath. "Your father has been suspended on charges of
falsifying evidence in a plagiarism case," I told her.

Clarity's
eyes took on a green fire. "I don't believe you. Why are you telling me
this?"

"In
light of our, um, discovery at Thanksgiving, I thought it best to let you know
everything I heard."

Clarity
narrowed her eyes. "Why would I believe you as a source? You don't have
much credibility in my book."

The
comment hit me like a slap in the face. "Credibility? Clarity, I was just
with your father. I went straight to the source."

"And
you want me to believe that my father was suspended over some plagiarism case? Are
you just trying to soften the blow for when you break the other story?" She
crossed her arms tightly over her stomach and searched my eyes.

"No.
I told you, I'm not pursuing that unless you want my help," I said. The
sheen of tears in her eyes made my chest clutch. "I came to find you right
away because this is a bigger story and I need your help."

"You
want me to help you help my father?" Clarity snorted. "Sorry, but
that doesn't strike me as something you'd do."

"Even
though you accused me of befriending your father to help secure my position
here at Landsman?" I snapped. "What do you think would happen if your
father was suspended? My job is the first on the chopping block. So, whether
you believe that or what I'm telling you right now, I'm helping your
father."

She
shuffled her feet and recrossed her arms. "Even if it means you'll lose
your job anyway?" she asked.

"Yes."
I reached out to grab her shoulders but she stepped back. "Clarity, it's
an old case that your father was sure he handled appropriately. Something's
wrong. Someone set him up, using that plagiarism case, in order to pressure him
to help with what you saw on Thanksgiving."

Clarity
rubbed her shoulder and thought that over. "Like leverage? But I thought
my father had already fixed Junior's application?"

I
smiled, relieved to give her one piece of good news. "Your father refused,
and that's why he's suddenly been suspended."

"How
are the two connected?"

I
could have kissed her. Clarity's tears had evaporated as she locked on to the
details that would interest any journalist. "The plagiarism case involves
another Tailor. Brian Tailor, to be exact," I told her. "Michael
Tailor's nephew."

Clarity
let out a harsh laugh and shook her head. "I know Brian Tailor and there
is no way he was involved with a case of plagiarism. First rule, check your
facts, right?"

I
rubbed my neck. "I'm trying to help you, Clarity. Can't we work on this together?
Why are you treating me like the enemy?"

"Because
you are," she cried. Clarity remembered the quiet of the library and
dropped her voice to a rough whisper. "I don't want your help. I don't
want anything from a man like you."

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Clarity

Half
a dozen
classmates stopped me on my way across campus. I apologized and dodged around
them. Thomas tried to tell me the college president was looking for me, but I
pretended I didn't hear him. By the time I made it to my front steps, I was
terrified I had been followed.

Ford
was right: my father's scandal was all over campus. If he had not chased me
into the library in order to tell me, I would have found out in the middle of
the commons with everyone watching.

"Clarity,
sweetheart, I'm so sorry," my father rushed to meet me at the door.

The
house was shuttered and dark and it was hard to see my father's face through my
tears. "I'm sorry. You only got involved with Michael Tailor because you
thought his connections could help me."

"They
still can," my father said. He led the way to the sofa and we sat down. "I'm
not going to give in to Tailor's demands, but Wire Communications should take
you on your own merit alone."

"I
don't want the internship, Dad. I'm going to help you fight this," I
promised.

My
father shook his head. "No, Clarity, I'm asking you to please stay out of
it."

"You
sound as if you've been talking to Ford. Oh, wait, you told him before you told
me!" The accusation sounded petulant, but my emotions were causing a storm
of thoughts that I couldn't quite control.

"Ford
is right about this, honey. He's trying to help. If we try to expose Michael
Tailor, then everyone loses. The college loses a major donor, I still lose my
job, and you lose your internship and future career connections," he said.

He
reached out to hold my hands, but I yanked them back. "No. I'm not just
going to sit back while you suffer through this alone. How can you think that's
right? Let me dig into the story, get all the details, and I can be the one to
publish it in the Landsman student newspaper. Corruption can't be allowed. It'll
only get worse," I pleaded with him.

"Clarity,
sweetheart, I can't let you be involved. This was my mistake—"

"You
didn't make a mistake," I cried, "you trusted the wrong person. You
always think the best of people. That's not your fault; that ability to believe
in people is one of the things I love most about you."

My
father's eyes were washed with unshed tears, but he shook his head. "I
should have gone directly to the college president when I was given gifts by
Michael Tailor. Instead, I hoped to leverage his friendship into something good
for you. It was all my mistake."

I
jumped up from the sofa, too irate to sit still. "I cannot believe I'm
hearing this from you! What about the truth? What about the honor code that you
helped to forge? I can't just stand aside while you are attacked."

The
conversation went ten more rounds of the same words. My father asked me in
every imaginable way to leave the story alone. He even threatened me as if I were
child he could still send to her room. I told him in no uncertain terms that I
would not stay quiet and that I intended to uncover everything I could about
the plagiarism case.

"Please,
Clarity, the Tailors are all cut from the same cloth. They know all the
advantages, and when they are cornered, they simply put the pressure on someone
else. Leave Brian Tailor alone," my father begged.

It
hurt but I ignored his words. I jumped into my car and called Lexi before the
garage door opened. "Hey, I was wondering if you could introduce me to one
of the football players." I asked.

"About
time," Lexi giggled. "Which one has finally tickled your fancy?"

"Brian
Tailor," I told her.

There
was a long pause, then Lexi sighed. "Clarity, I'm not stupid. Please tell
me this has nothing to do with your father's, um, news."

"Just
meet me at the coffee shop, okay?" I begged.

Lexi
was there with her hands on her hips and a stubborn expression on her
pixie-like face. "I'm going to do this for you. You know I'm going to do
it. But, first, I want to know the truth from you."

"Why
ask like that? Since when have I ever lied to you?" I asked, insulted.

"Thanksgiving.
You have feelings for Professor Bauer, don't you?" Lexi asked.

My
mouth opened and closed but I could not get the words to come out. Finally, I
forced out, "What? Why are you asking about Ford?"

Lexi's
smile was sad. "You called him Ford. Look, Clarity, we all knew you
weren't into college guys and that's great, but I don't think you need any more
scandals right now. And you certainly don't need the heart ache."

Hurt
strangled my voice but I whispered. "I already know about Libby Blackwell.
She rubbed it in my face."

"And
have you talked to Ford?" Lexi asked.

I
threw my hands up in the air. "How am I supposed to process that when my
father's career has just been ruined?!"

"Alright,
fine. But we're coming back to this conversation," Lexi said. "Now,
there's Carl with Brian. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Brian
Tailor was the all-American boy complete with white-blond hair, chiseled chin,
and dark blue eyes. He smiled as we shook hands. "Nice to meet you,
Clarity. Actually we had class together freshman year. Chemistry 101,
remember?"

"Was
that a line?" Lexi asked with a laugh.

"No,"
I smiled at Brian. "I remember you helped me memorize the periodic table
of elements. Isn't Chemistry your major?" I asked.

"Bio-Chem,"
Brian said. "I'm hoping to go to work as a research and development
scientist at one of the big pharmaceutical companies. Great pay, and the added
benefit of helping the human race."

"Good
looks and good intentions. I like him." I stepped forward so Brian could
get a good look down the loose neck of my shirt. Then I traced a finger down
his forearm. "Bio-Chem can't be an easy major; lots of pressure?" I
asked.

Brian's
dark blue eyes hardened and a muscle tensed in his square jaw. "The only
pressure I feel is outdoing my own test scores."

"Brian's
top of his class," Carl said.

I
blinked, surprised. Carl didn't often speak up, but his tone was adamant. "Oh,
so, he's one of those super-brainy football players?" I asked.

Carl
nodded.

Brian
punched his friend in the shoulder. "I suppose Carl never tells anyone
that his professor just asked him to publish his last paper. Seems like I'm not
the only smart guy that knows how run a play."

"Speaking
of plays ..." Lexi pulled Carl aside with nothing more than a heated
glance.

"That's
some play you just tried to pull on me," Brian said when we were alone.

"I'm
sorry, what?" I asked.

He
narrowed his eyes. "I get it. Your father is in trouble for a plagiarism
case and I'm the defendant. It makes sense that you'd come after me to get at
the truth. I just didn't think you'd drag Carl into this or try to flirt the
truth out of me."

I
swallowed hard then jutted my chin up at the tall man. "It seems to me
like you would want to defend the man that defended you. Unless there's more to
the story than anyone else has heard."

Brian
ground his teeth but gave in. "The whole story is completely boring. I
wrote a paper for the assignment. The paper was switched while I was at
football practice. When Dean Dunkirk confronted me with the plagiarized paper,
I didn't recognize any of it. It wasn't mine; I didn't write it."

"Then
who did? Where did it come from?" I asked. I blinked away a hot wash of
tears.

"Come
on, Clarity, you're trying to protect your family. You know how it is,"
Brian said.

"No,"
I snapped. "I don't know how it is. I'm not just trying to protect my
father, I am trying to find out the truth. Wait," his words sunk in. "Are
you trying to protect your family?"

Brian
scowled. "I'm not saying anything more. I already told that nosy professor
everything. Though I wish you had gotten to me first. Maybe my uncle would
understand if I confessed everything to a pretty girl."

"Which
professor?" I asked. My heart slammed against my ribs.

"You
know, you're professor. The reporter all the girls drool over. What's his name?
Like a car or something."

"Ford,"
I ground out. "Ford Bauer."

"That's
the guy you need to talk to."

#

The
frustration
almost stopped my fingertips and I struggled with my phone all the way across
campus. Not only had Ford beat me to the first interview, but he had gotten
more information. Once Brian realized I flirted with him just for information,
he clammed up.

It
wasn't hard to put two and two together. Brian was too smart to need to
plagiarize his paper. Clearly, the paper had been switched, and the only motive
for doing so seemed to be my father's undoing.

Finally,
I punched the right information into my phone and found Ford's home address. The
tires squealed on my car as I pulled out of the student parking lot and headed
off Landsman campus. I tore through the idyllic neighborhoods that surrounded
our prestigious college and whipped into the parking lot of the apartment
building where Ford's address was listed.

When
I reached the door and hammered on it, a thought surfaced that made me catch my
breath. What if someone saw me at Ford's place? What would campus gossip do
with the knowledge that I had come to Ford's apartment alone?

Footsteps
approached the door, then Ford let out a string of expletives. Obviously, he
had had the same thought as me.

"You
shouldn't be here, Clarity," Ford said as he opened the door to his
apartment.

"Yeah,
well, propriety or not, I'm here," I snapped. I elbowed my way past him
and inside.

Ford
turned around and shut the door behind us. Then I noticed he was still damp
from the shower, with nothing on but a faded pair of blue jeans. The tee-shirt
he held was knotted in his fist and he forgot about it as he glared at me.

"Your
father told me he wanted you to stay out of it," Ford said. "Don't
you think this might make everything worse? What if someone saw you come
here."

"You're
the one that answered the door half-naked," I said. It was hard to look
away from the chiseled muscles of his chest or the dark dusting of hair that
lead down past the loose waistband of his jeans. "I think you owe me an
apology."

Ford
raised a dark eyebrow. Then he yanked his tee-shirt on and his expression
changed. Gone was the angry glare and the bemused sparkle. Instead, he looked
relieved. "I've been trying to apologize to you ever since ..."

"Ever
since you and my father treated me like a child?" I asked.

His
lips quirked but his expression remained the same. "Ever since we kissed. I
should have told you immediately. My head was all turned around. I tried to
tell you at Thanksgiving," he said.

My
stomach did excited flip-flops but I waved his topic away. "No, I'm not
letting you distract me from the matter at hand," I said. "You have
information that can prove my father's innocence and I want to know exactly how
you are going to use that information."

Ford's
eyes turned a stormy gray. "I know you're stuck on that, Clarity, but we
need to straighten a few things out between us."

"Later,"
I snapped. "You can prove my father didn't help Brian Tailor cheat. That
will save his career. And, we have a chance to tie it to Michael Tailor and be
done with his corrupt interference at Landsman College for good."

A
dark blue washed into Ford's eyes as he studied my face. "I admire your
optimism, Clarity. I really do. The belief that the truth will solve everything
is a very powerful way to lead your life."

My
chest ached. "Except?"

"Except
the truth always comes with a price and I'm not sure you understand that yet. I
hate to sound cliché, but it's a lot like pulling the thread on a sweater. Everything
can come unraveled," Ford said. "So, let's just slow down for a
moment."

He
turned and went into his small, galley kitchen, and I had a moment to take in
my surroundings. Ford's apartment was a lot like his office. Spartan
furnishings were simple and undecorated. The shelves held very little except a
few odd knick-knacks and a framed photograph of him and a similarly dark-haired
young woman.

"That's
my sister," Ford said. He came back to the living room and offered me a
soda. In his other hand he held a beer.

"What
if I wanted the beer?" I asked.

Ford
shook his head. "Clarity, I don't know what information you think I
gleaned from Brian Tailor, but it isn't enough to clear your father."