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“It’s one line for negative and two for positive,” Gabby says. “Just come out. It takes a few minutes.”
I wash my hands then do as I’m told, bringing the test with me, and immediately having to dodge Sophia, who is standing right in front of the door.
“Calm down, you’ll get to know along with everyone else!” I shush her, and she plops down on a chair, defeated.
I hand the test to Gabby. She says nothing, just takes it closer to the window, muttering, “here we go,” under her breath.
Three minutes later, under the apprehensive eyes of Sophia and I, Gabby brings the test for me to read.
And my destiny is sealed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LOGAN
Isetupameeting with the dean of Joyce’s college.
The dean’s name is Damion Kunst. He is short in stature, judging by his pictures, and he seems like a friendly guy. I’m hoping he is nice enough to give me what I want.
Thursday morning starts bright and hot, and I ditch the blazer and roll up my sleeves before I get to driving all the way to Manhattan to go meet Kunst and discuss my plans with him.
I’ve been delegating more at work and can take more personal time. Today for example, I cleared out my morning so I could do this.
I think about what I will say to Kunst. It’s too bad I went somewhere else and can’t say I’m an alumnus.
It’s easier to find a parking spot than it is to find his office. The building is full of hallways that all look the same. Finally, I reach a secluded space on the top floor, where Kunst waits for me behind a large desk that engulfs him.
“Mr. Bardin, I presume?” He stands to greet me.
“Yes, Mr. Kunst, pleased to meet you,” I say, giving him a firm handshake.
I take the seat he points for me, and Kunst grabs a pen. He begins, “You wanted to talk about one of our students?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Joyce Andrews. She’s a former employee of mine, and I was asked to give her references, so I would like some information on her background before I continue.”
Kunst raises an eyebrow. My story is poorly told, and I’m certain he is questioning it. I’m also sure my face is giving me away. I’m not the best at lying.
“Well, Mr. Bardin, I have pulled Ms. Andrews’s information, and I can see that she is an excellent student in every aspect. Her grades are far above average, and she coexists with other students just fine. She has abandoned all her extracurriculars lately, but I understand there was a medical emergency…”
“Yes,” I say. “There was, but what is her current situation like? Has she enrolled for the next semester yet?”
Kunst looks through the papers, but apparently lacking the information he needed, turns to his computer. “No, she hasn’t enrolled yet. It says here she’s pausing her course for the semester.”
“Any idea why?” I know why, but I want to hear it from him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bardin. I can’t divulge the reason why, but it’s a shame because she just needs a couple classes more to graduate,” Kunst says.
“I see,” I tap my fingers over his desk. “Would a scholarship solve the problem?”
Now Kunst looks awkward, leaning back in his chair, which makes it look like it’s engulfing him. After a moment, he offers me a small regretful smile.
“Mr. Bardin, we don’t give scholarships out that easily,” he says, body language clearly trying to dismiss the subject. “Joyce is a top student, but deadlines for scholarships have passed already. All have been awarded.”
I bite down on my lip for a moment, refusing to accept defeat. “Would a donation to the college fund help in any way?”
He looks at me, full of mistrust and doubt. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but he’s certainly wondering why a former employer has such an interest in a girl who’s not even his employee anymore.
“That could be considered,” he finally says, measuring his words carefully. He continues, “It would depend on the amount of the donation…”
