Page 5 of Solo

Whoa! Wait just a minute. Did he just say my father is coming here? Since when? Seeing my shock and confusion, the son of a bitch starts to chuckle.

“Surprised by that, are you? He’s part of the panel at a bipartisan town hall that the Poli-Sci department is sponsoring. Word is, he might even announce his intention to run for president.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s time to put on my big girl panties and take back the power in this situation. I pull the phone out of my pocket and snap a picture of him.

“Hey!” he objects. “I didn’t say you could do that.” He stops himself and breaks out the obnoxious grin again. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one, considering I’ve done the same thing to you about a thousand times.”

The smile fades as he watches my expression darken. Like I said, I’ve never had a good poker face, so I’m quite sure he’s getting the full effect as my emotions pass across my features. Shock, followed by indignation, finally settling on rage. And I must be telegraphing loud and clear because he pulls back a fraction of an inch.

“Listen up, you James Bond wannabe,” I hiss. “You’re going to let me out of this car and I will never see you anywhere near me again. Because, if I do, Kevin, I’ll call the Washington Post and give them an exclusive, including how I was stalked by a rival paper. You don’t think they’d just love to discredit you? To paint you as a lame little gossiping tabloid? And after the Courier has worked so hard to shake that image. Your editor won’t be happy. And what would that do for your reputation, Kevin?”

Something shifts in his features and it’s arresting. A cool hardness settles in his eyes and his mouth turns up into a sardonic smile. And just like that, the nice hot guy is gone. This is who he really is, right here. And it’s pretty damn scary. I work hard to keep the edge to my own glare. I know his type, and if he gets even a whiff of weakness, I’m toast.

“Oh, Kate, Kate, Katie, Kate,” he taunts me in a singsong voice. “Do you really think you can scare me? You have no power and, it would appear, you can’t even make use of your father’s. So, why don’t you just give me something I can use and I promise not to bother you again? For a little while, anyway.” He chuckles.

I don’t say another word; I just pick up my phone and press nine-one-one. He’s looking at me quizzically, thinking I’m bluffing, I’m sure. I put it on speakerphone so he knows I’m not.

“Hello?” I say when the operator asks the nature of my emergency. “My name is Katherine Brenner and I’m being held in a car against my will. I’m on the campus of Shepherd University in a white BMW, Washington DC license plate LVJ 2214. It’s parked in the Arts Complex lot in the far northeast corner. Please hurry.”

Before I can hang up the phone, the locks click open and he reaches over to unbuckle my seat belt.

“How the hell did you know my plate number?” he asks incredulously. When I don’t answer, he decides he’s had enough of me. “You want out? Fine. Get the fuck out of my car, you bitch,” he says, giving my shoulder a rough shove.

My turn to smile now.

“Never mind,” I say into the phone. “I’m out. No need to send a car. I’ll come by the station later today. I have a picture of the guy and I think I know where he works.” I end the call and start to get out.

He reaches for me again, but he stops short when I hold up a single finger and shake my head no. “Not unless you want an assault charge,” I threaten.

“Oh, please.” He sneers. “You won’t do it. You won’t even follow up with the police. We both know how much you hate the publicity. I mean you’re already detested by your classmates and most of your professors. Isn’t that right, Katie?”

I don’t respond. Instead, I open the door and pull myself up and out, snatching the microphone as I go. It unravels in a trail of black wire that leads to a small recorder in the pocket of the passenger door. He lunges forward to grab it, but the seat belt holds him back as I scoop it up and stick it into my pocket.

“I’ll be taking this with me,” I say, slamming the door at the same instant that he erupts into a screaming tirade. I cross the parking lot at a jog, purposely dodging in and around other parked vehicles, just in case he gets any smart ideas about running me down. When I look over my shoulder again, he’s still glaring at me and I can see his mouth moving. Now his window rolls down, and he’s yelling something about freedom of the press. I flip him off and run into the building.

My heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of my chest. Not because of the jackass I’ve just left outside, but because of the one who’s waiting for me inside. And, God help me, I’m not wrong.

Chapter Two

Drew

It’s easy to hate her. Much easier than liking her. I know it’s wrong. I know I’m wrong. Katherine Brenner can’t help that she’s tall, with long, dark hair that falls around her shoulders in soft waves. It’s not her fault that her blue eyes are specked with gold and that she has delicate, pale skin. Or that her lips are the color of fucking rose petals. I mean, what’s not to hate?

Katherine Brenner is a dead ringer for the woman who absolutely obliterated my heart.

She doesn’t think I know that she’s there. After all this time, she’s still under the mistaken belief that if she slips into the room quietly and takes a seat at the back, I won’t even notice she’s late. Oh, but I do notice, even with my back turned. I finish writing the details of the assignment on the whiteboard and turn around, my gaze scanning the back of the room until it lands on her.

“You’re late, Miss Brenner,” I say flatly. “Again.”

A blush spreads across her face. “I’m sorry, Dr. Markham,” she begins. “I was—”

“Miss Brenner, please spare us the excuses, you’ve already taken up enough class time.”

She responds to my chilly tone by clamping her lips into a straight line and locking her jaw. She doesn’t say a word. I cock an expectant eyebrow.

“Well? Don’t you think you owe the rest of the students—the ones who bothered to get here on time—an apology as well?”

“I’m sorry,” she mutters.