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I can’t help but smirk in appreciation, even as my hands turn into fists at my side. Shifting from one foot to the other, I tear my gaze away before I can embarrass myself by showing the world just how much I appreciate her ass.
“Sammy?” Dr. K strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Is she Samantha Ziegfield?”
“Wingfield,” I correct. I bet the lady in question would be furious if she knew he’d just botched her name.
“Of course. She was your class secretary.”
“Vice president.”
“That’s right. Now I remember.” Dr. K’s hand drops to his side and he chuckles. “The two of you were always neck in neck in everything. Student council. Model UN. GPAs. Which one of you ended up first in your class?”
Now it’s my turn to clench my jaw. “She did.”
“Still a sensitive subject I see.” He arches an eyebrow. “I dare say the competition served you both well. You’re a partner in your father’s investment firm, and she’s… Well, I’m embarrassed to say I don’t quite know where Ms. Wingfield landed.”
“She runs a consulting company. Mergers and acquisitions. She…” I sigh, hating myself for knowing all of this off the top of my head. “Samantha has done well for herself. She’s even had a couple of profiles written up about her in Forbes and The Wall Street Journal.”
“Forbes.” Dr. K releases a low whistle. “I should go look up those articles. It sounds like she’s an alumna worth tracking.”
I keep my mouth shut. I’ve probably already said too much on the subject. Anything more, and Dr. K will think I’ve been keeping tabs on her. The occasional social media scan and a Google alert hardly count as keeping tabs.
Besides, I’m just taking a page from my old man’s books. He said the key to succeeding in business is knowing everything you can about your enemy. While Samantha and I might not be duking it out for class president or Model UN anymore, I always figured our paths would cross again one day.
I wanted to be prepared for anything.
Before I can respond to Dr. K, there’s a slight scuffle accompanied by a light gasp. We turn to see a college-aged young woman balancing a plastic storage tub against her hip while juggling an oversized vase.
“What the…” I mutter. With a sigh, I give Dr. K a shrug. “I suppose that’s my cue to get back to work.”
“That’s the Zack I know.” He gives my shoulder another pat. “You always did have a strong sense of responsibility.”
A wave of guilt washes over me. I’ve let Samantha take on more than her share of planning and pulling off this whole reunion weekend. Not that she seemed eager to let me help, based on the tone of the emails she sent me.
Still, as our class president, it is my responsibility. I should have made more of an effort.
The least I can do is lend a helping hand now.
I race to the door to help the young woman with her load.
“Oh, thank you.” She flashes a friendly smile at me. “I’m here to help with the reunion set-up.”
“I’m Zack Strovers. Class president.” Narrowly groaning under the surprising weight of the tub, I return her grin. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name. Have we met before? I can’t believe I’d forget your face.”
“Slow down, Romeo. You haven’t met.” Samantha gives me an icy glare before softening her expression. “We can take things from here, Allegra.”
The young woman flashes a hesitant look my way. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Now that the Class President has graced us with his presence” —Samantha’s tone briefly turns frigid again, and I can’t help but smirk—“you should take off and start your weekend.”
“Well if you’re sure—”
“I’m positive.” Samantha’s tone is nothing but gracious. “Thank you for everything.”
I watch as Allegra leaves, still curious about the woman’s identity. An elbow to my gut knocks the breath out of me.
“What was that for?” I gasp out.
“Don’t leer at my assistant.” Her eyes narrow. “She works way too hard, and is way too good, to have to deal with sleaze-bags staring at her.”
