Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,104

his family business over to.” She believed this completely. She also believed that once Leonard knew the truth, he’d never go through with the sale.

Vivian shook her head. “He’ll never look at me the same again.”

“I understand. But can you imagine how much worse it will be when he finds out after the sale?”

“What do you mean, when he finds out?”

“Once the papers are signed, once the check is cashed—what’s to stop the baron from telling Dad? Then it will be too late for Dad to change his mind. And then, no, he probably won’t forgive you. At least this way, there’s a chance to salvage your relationship.”

And maybe even the winery.

Forty-seven

Club Day on campus always took place the first week of classes. The grassy area behind the president’s house, known as the quad, filled end to end with booths from the Environmental Coalition to the GSA Club to the theater group and beyond, offering information and email sign-ups to new would-be members or just the mildly curious.

Sadie, not a joiner, always took pains to avoid this particular display. But today, she was forced to cut through the crowd to reach Dr. Moore’s office. She didn’t even know if Dr. Moore would be holding office hours. It was that odd time of year when schedules were in flux—just like her academic future. But maybe—just maybe—she was on to something.

The idea had come to her in the middle of the night, and she hadn’t had a moment’s sleep since. It was close to ninety degrees and it wasn’t yet noon. Sadie, overheated in her jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt, felt a little woozy making her way through the rows of fold-out tables: The Board Game Club. The Sketch Comedy Group. A few of her friends sat at a booth under a particularly colorful banner. One of them waved her over.

“Hey—I’m just passing through. I have to find my advisor,” Sadie said.

“It’ll just take a minute to sign up.” Someone shoved an iPad in front of her.

“I don’t have time for the . . .” She checked the banner. “Jane Austen Film Society. What do you guys do, anyway?”

“Talk about Jane Austen, of course. And watch film adaptations of her books . . .”

“Sadie Bailey,” someone called from behind her.

It came from the direction of the Crew Team booth, where Holden sat flanked by his teammates, all tanned and golden from a summer at the beach. Sadie panicked. Of all places to run into Holden for the first time, did it have to be so public? She had no choice but to walk over to the table.

“Hey,” Sadie said.

“Interested in rowing?” the guy next to him said.

“She’s not into physical activity,” Holden said. Someone snickered.

“Or maybe I just never found the right sport,” she shot back.

For so long, she had thought something was wrong with her for not having strong romantic feelings. She’d explained it away as being too much in her head; her intellect got in the way of whimsy. She was too practical to experience true passion. She’d thought, if she didn’t feel it with Holden—hot, smart, fun—who would she feel it with? She had been certain it wasn’t a matter of meeting the right person; it was her emotional set point. But the way she’d gotten carried away with Mateo had disproven that. For the first time, her mind had been overcome by her body. She’d experienced the irrational thoughts and feelings that she’d believed to be part urban myth.

Now, missing Mateo, she was suffering just like everyone else. A mere mortal after all.

And then, across the lawn, a bright yellow dress caught her eye: Dr. Moore, crossing the field and headed away from the English offices. Sadie wedged between two tables to follow her.

“Hey, Sadie—I was just kidding. Come back . . . ,” Holden called after her.

Sadie broke into a run. She was sweating now, light-headed from the encounter with Holden, lack of sleep, and a general sense of being overwhelmed. A Club Day volunteer stepped forward, handing her a bottle of water.

“Please recycle. The bottle easily flattens and can be mailed back to the company to be reused as fuel in a waste-to-energy plant . . .”

Sadie chugged the water and continued on, now facing Dr. Moore’s back and trailing her by a yard.

“Dr. Moore!” she called out.

The professor turned, standing in place and shielding her eyes against the sun with her hand.

“Sadie, where are you running to in such a hurry?”

“To see you,” Sadie said, trying