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Darren forced himself to keep moving through the sudden crazy hopping in his gut. The guy was as striking as he remembered. Even if, this time, there was nothing soft about his expression. Even if, this time, he looked at Darren with his lips curving into an unimpressed smile.
Darren glanced down at his shorts, light green oxford, and loafers—without socks. Everyone else wore a suit and tie, or at least a collared shirt and sports coat.
He grimaced. Only the scion of MAS Oil thought it appropriate to show up in something they’d wear to class.
At least he’d remembered a belt?
Ah, shit.
“Darren,” President Jenkins said with a smile. His tone was light and cheerful, mildly easing Darren’s embarrassment. “Just on time.”
A lie, and they both knew it, yet Jenkins was letting it slide.
He let out a relieved breath as he took his seat, where his name had been printed on a placard.
He sat across from Isaiah, who dropped his tight stare to the table between them.
Darren shrugged off the slight curl of disappointment.
He got it. They were competitors now. There was no room for attraction. Darren needed to win the Gage Scholarship to repair his relationship with his dad, and Isaiah had clearly gone to lengths for a shot at it, too.
They were each other’s opposition.
Darren forced himself to follow Jenkins’s movement as he made introductions.
“First, I’d like to introduce your faculty advisors. Dr. George Billings, head of the business school, will be available to Darren Gage, and Professor Peter Linton will be supervising Isaiah Nettles. Second, your mentors. I’d like to thank our guests from MAS Oil. Frederick Sheele is vice president of consumer affairs. Fred will be Darren’s mentor for the school year. I understand you know each other.”
“That’s correct, President Jenkins,” Fred said in his semi-thick New England accent. “My son, Aiden, is a few years older than Darren, but since company family events tend to devolve into work talk, he and Darren usually paired off to avoid the boredom.”
Darren held back a snort. That boredom followed them when they left. He’d never clicked with Aiden, despite Fred’s suggestion otherwise. Being Darren the Fifth subjected him to endless rounds of sucking up in the hopes he’d say something to his father or grandfather. Aiden was nice enough, but two years older. He also seemed hell-bent on dazzling Darren with his female conquests.
“. . . but this is the first time I’ve been asked to act as a mentor to Josh’s son.”
Darren’s brow shot up. He highly doubted his father allowed Fred to call him Josh.
“Excellent.” Jenkins turned to a twentysomething stuffed suit sitting next to Isaiah. “Joining Fred is Geoffrey Decatur. Geoffrey was our Gage Scholar five years ago.”
“Six, President Jenkins,” Geoffrey said.
Darren instantly pitied Isaiah. He’d seen Geoffrey’s type too many times at corporate. New employees, coming from top schools, terribly impressed with themselves and trying to seem important. Geoffrey fit the role perfectly. He couldn’t imagine having a conversation with him that went more than three sentences.
“Six?” Jenkins smiled stiffly through the correction. He glanced at the paper with their bios and tapped his finger to a spot. “Right. We’re starting a new year. Time does fly. Geoffrey works in the logistics division and helps manage pipeline construction and maintenance.”
Isaiah’s frown deepened. His mentor embarrassing Jenkins in front of staff, students, and guests wouldn’t earn him any points.
“That’s correct, sir. It’s one of the more important divisions after exploration and development.”
Darren caught Isaiah’s gaze and delivered a sympathetic smile. What could be worse than being saddled with such a bore?
Isaiah frowned, clearly misinterpreting Darren’s smile for something sinister.
Maybe he should avoid eye contact altogether.
Except that didn’t stop him from focusing on the guy. Isaiah was there in the corner of Darren’s eye and in the prickling of goosebumps down his arms and nape.
He dared another glance. Isaiah’s gaze was already on him, darkened with a scowl.
The fuck?
Had the guy just realized the upward battle he’d have going against a Gage for the Gage scholarship?
Well yeah, it would be hard.
Darren wasn’t going to sit back and let Isaiah take it. This meant something to him.
He met Isaiah’s stare with determination of his own.
Bring your A game. You’re going to need it.
Isaiah
Isaiah could have laughed. Of course.
Like a king, Darren came to the meeting like he’d rolled out of bed from a good fuck. Cheeks bright, hair damp and teased at the ends, gait relaxed like he was well and truly spent.
It was infuriating on many levels. Like the way President Jenkins didn’t bat an eye and said, “on time.”
Christ.
On time was Isaiah missing his modern jazz performance class, putting on a suit, and walking through the ninety-plus degree heat to get here before the mentors.
On time was turning down a paid yoga session because they had scheduled two hours for this meeting.
