Page 112 of Betting on the Bad Boy
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Jess had been right. The article ran in the paper, and the English department had contacted me. Even though I’d always received fantastic reviews, I’d been relieved of my teaching responsibilities. They couldn’t suffer the embarrassment of having my name associated with both the highbrow University program and my erotic romance novels. Whatever. With the publicity from the article, sales ofCarnal Knowledgehadskyrocketed. I’d have enough to pay back a nice chunk of my student loans even without teaching.
This trip to Chicago couldn’t have come at a better time. Steph had been pressuring me to attend the author event, and I figured it would be as good a place as any to go public with my identity. I just hoped I didn’t lose my nerve.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Jess pulled up at the curb next to the departure sign.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I grabbed my bag and opened the car door. Turning to Jess, I said, “Thanks for everything.”
“Don’t mention it. Have fun in Chicago.”
I rolled my eyes and grimaced. “No turning back now.”
“It’ll all work out.”
As I stepped up onto the curb and closed the car door behind me, I hoped Jess was right. While I entered the airport and made my way through the long security line, I let my mind wander to Dante.
He hadn’t so much as sent me a text since I’d left him at Meemaw’s. I couldn’t really blame him. His name had been plastered all over the Tempest paper and social media. The local paper had even picked it up and printed a small story.
It would be good to get away for a few days. If Jess was right, things would settle down soon. There would be a new scandal to cover, and the news of our fling would take a backseat to outrage over the student center approving a fast-food chain or another professor getting caught in an affair with a student. I’d be old news by next week. At least I hoped so.
I reached the gate just in time to hear the gate agent announce they were expecting a break in the bad weather and might be able to take advantage of a small window to take off before the next round of storms came through.
Determined not to board without a bottle of water, I walked over to the small gift shop. As I waited in line to pay, my eyesscanned the two shelves of books. There on the bottom shelf, two from the end—a small stack of my books sat in between two other best sellers. I always got a thrill when I saw my pen name in print.
When I got back to the gate, the flight attendant made the boarding announcement over the loudspeaker. I’d forgotten to check in early and claim an aisle seat, so I found myself squashed into a middle, between a young mother with an infant at the window and a stuffy-looking, suited businessman on the aisle. Didn’t look like I’d get much writing done. I smiled at the mother, then pulled my headphones out of the bag. I turned on my music and closed my eyes.
Jagged cries woke me from an uneasy sleep. The man on my left had claimed the armrest and as his head bobbed up and down, grunts and snores escaped from his mouth. The mother balanced the screaming baby on her lap while she tried to grab something from her bag on the floor.
“Here, let me take her.” I tugged my headphones off and reached for the red-faced baby girl.
“Are you sure?” the mother asked, already passing the tiny baby over.
“It’s no problem.” Actually, it could be a big problem seeing as how my experience holding babies was limited to one time in high school. One of my friends got pregnant our senior year, and I visited her in the hospital after she’d delivered. That baby had been quiet and sleepy. This one was a ball of fiery energy and looked like she was about to spontaneously combust.
I grasped the baby under the arms and held her away from me. The child stopped wailing. She cocked her head and looked at me, blue eyes taking me in.
“Wow, you have a magic touch,” the mother said.
She sounded surprised, although she couldn’t have been more shocked than me. “I don’t know about that,” I said.
The woman pulled a bottle out of the bag at her feet and dumped some powder into it, shaking the water inside to form a milky liquid.
“Here, I can take her now.” She reached for the baby.
As I passed the baby back, she started to scream again. The passengers in front of us craned their heads over the seat to see what the commotion was all about. The mother flushed and wiped at her eyes.
“Why don’t you let me feed her while you take a break?” I asked, reaching for the bottle.
The mother offered it up with no resistance. “Thanks. By the way, I’m Maria.”
“Hi, I’m Faith.” I nestled the baby in the crook of my arm as the child grabbed for the bottle.
“Just lift her head a little bit,” Maria said.
I adjusted the baby, and she latched onto the bottle with surprising strength.
“Wow, she must be really hungry,” I said.
