The Beauty Queen's Makeover

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“That’s a great idea.”

She smiled. “We think so.”

“But?” he prompted.

“We need funding to get it off the ground and decided to impose on our college ties with Kathryn Price. I contacted her through her agent to be the celebrity face for our project and get the donations going.”

“What happened?”

“She refused.” Her mouth pulled tight. “Rachel James got just a glimpse of her here in Saunders.”

“Rachel is my paralegal.”

“Small world,” Sandra said.

“Yeah. So what did she say?”

“She said Kathryn was wearing a scarf covering most of her face.”

“And big sunglasses?” he asked.

“Maybe. Rachel didn’t mention that. But she said the wind lifted the scarf enough to see there was something wrong with her face.”

“So that explains why she turned you down.”

“No, it doesn’t. Her agent said she refused to even hear the details. So we never got a chance to pitch the idea. I can’t help thinking she’s turned into a snob.”

Anger churned in his gut. “For someone who preaches the truth above everything, you’re certainly jumping to conclusions.”

She looked surprised. “Oh?”

He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “There could be a thousand reasons she turned you down.”

“Like what?”

“She’s out of the country on a shoot. She doesn’t like sports. She doesn’t like you or David. She’s busy with a hundred other philanthropic projects that are more near and dear to her heart. Like ballet. Or basket weaving. Or sand sculpture.”

Sandra looked surprised. “Wow.”

Wow, indeed. When did he forget to censor everything that came out of his mouth? He’d learned to do it in college when any slip could result in being the butt of a painful joke. As a lawyer, the health of his career depended on editing his thoughts, words and deeds. But just now, he’d worn his heart on his sleeve. Not smart, Williams, he thought.

“I guess I know where you’re coming from,” Sandra said.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’d say that was a typical male reaction to an incredibly beautiful woman.”

“Oh.” Good. He wasn’t busted after all. “The thing is, I ran into Katie—Kathryn. I happen to know she has a good reason for turning you down.”

“And what would it be? Surely not sand sculpture,” she said wryly.

“No.” He laughed sheepishly. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You know that just makes a reporter more curious and determined.”

“I know.” Snooping reporters were the bane of his existence. But Katie was none of her business. “All I’ll say is that she’s fragile and needs a little time. You need to cut her some slack.”

He hoped that didn’t pique her journalist’s curiosity and get her off the professor only to go after Katie. “Look, Sandra, I came here to convince you to leave Professor Harrison alone. He’s only ever wanted to help students. I think this witch hunt is wrong after all he’s done.”

“Wrong has been done, all right. Students who had the credentials to receive those scholarships were victimized. What about justice for them?”

He read the determination in her expression and knew when he was hitting his head against the wall. “So I can’t convince you to back off?”

“Not on a bet.”

“Okay. Then let me help you.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“So I can prove you’re wrong about him. That he didn’t do anything improper.”

“You’re on.” She nodded emphatically. “I’ve got a ton of files to go through. As an attorney, you should be into file minutiae.”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “I live for the opportunity to look for a needle in a haystack.”

“I’ll give you a stack to go through. The thing is, Nate,” she said sincerely, “if he acted dishonestly, he should pay the price.”

“Even if good came out of it? Wrong thing, right reason?”

“It’s still wrong.”

The pasta primavera settled like a stone in Nate’s stomach. Her words felt like an indictment of his own life. He represented felons. Not an especially noble profession. He wasn’t the man his grandmother had raised and she wouldn’t be proud of what he’d become. He wasn’t particularly proud of himself, either, and hadn’t been for a long time. It never mattered before, but it did now.

Because of Katie.

Chapter Four

Kathryn glanced at the clock on the desk as she paced back and forth in front of the basic beige couch in her room. It was almost time for her seven o’clock dinner appointment. She refused to call it anything else. Late, late for a very important date. Nate had called her Alice in Wonderland and she was beginning to feel that way. She was late—for life.

This was a cozy room, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t surprising that she wasn’t anxious to go back to California and not because of the earthquakes. She had no career to go back to. But she had to figure out what to do for the professor as soon as possible because she couldn’t afford an indefinite stay in this room.

And speaking of rooms, what had possessed her to let Nate into her life at all, let alone into her own for dinner?

She hadn’t dated since college and it was scary to be with a man at all. Yet she’d agreed to room service! Most women were smart enough to meet men in public places. But with her face scarred, that was scarier than room service. She wasn’t quite sure how Nate had talked her into this. He must be one heck of a lawyer.

Now the pressure was on and the timing was tricky. Dinner needed to be here within a few minutes of when he showed up so they wouldn’t have too much time alone before room service arrived. But she didn’t want it here too early or the cold food ick factor would set in.

Why should she care if the food turned out to be mush? There was a comforting thought. It’s not as if there would be anything long-term between them. Her future was up in the air and until she got her act together, there wasn’t room for anyone else in this mess she called a life. She couldn’t explain why she’d trusted Nate more than anyone in ten years, but that didn’t mean she could muster a level of trust that would sustain a lasting relationship.

There was a knock on her door and the butterflies fluttering in her stomach collided and fused into a lump the size of Massachusetts. She took a deep, cleansing breath, then released it as she went to check the peephole. It was Nate, not room service, and she opened the door wide, as her heart gave the inside of her chest the one, two punch.

“Hi, Nate.”

His smile was devastatingly attractive. “Katie.”

He was the only one who used the nickname and it seemed somehow special, warming her clear to her soul. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” He handed her a brown bag twisted around a bottle.

Frowning, she said, “What’s this?”

“Sparkling water. I couldn’t find any in the hotel gift shop, so I went to the convenience store down the street. That’s why I’m a little late.”

Relief washed over her at the same time she was ashamed of herself. She’d been so sure it was some kind of liquor to get her drunk. There it was—her failure to trust. Proof positive of her faith-in-men handicap. But she didn’t have to trust him forever, just tonight. Dinner. That was all. He’d get tired of looking at her flawed face and failure to attain intimacy, then an F16 flying Mach one couldn’t get him out of there fast enough. She was silly to even consider a future and Nate in the same thought process.

“Thanks. That was sweet of you.” She took the bag. “I’m sorry. Dinner was supposed to be here by now.”

He glanced around. “I’m shocked and appalled.”

“Room service isn’t that reliable.”

“Not room service. I thought you’d whip something up with a curling iron, a blow-dryer and a hot plate.”

She laughed. “Don’t think I couldn’t. But I’m fresh out of hot plates so I had to rely on hotel staff and, as you can see, dinner hasn’t arrived.”

A small smile curved his mouth as he stared at her. “I hadn’t noticed. With a beautiful woman like you in the room, I can’t even think about food.”

It was blatant flattery, probably as transparent as plastic wrap, but her bruised and barren soul soaked it up like a drought-ravaged desert. At the same time she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. He made her want to be beautiful. For the first time in ten years. And the thought was heartbreaking. Why did she meet him now, when she’d never be pretty again?

Before that thought had the chance to suck her down, there was a knock at the door. This time Nate answered it and she was grateful he was there.

“Room service,” he said after checking, then he opened up for the hotel staff to push the cart inside. “Just set up on the table by the window.”

Kathryn stood out of the way and let him handle everything. After a year out of the fast lane, things that had once been second nature, seemed foreign and difficult now. Nate was very good at it.