Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I pull into campus and realize I have no idea where she is. Shit. I park in the visitor’s lot and pull out my cell phone.
Hey Kara, I type. Bailey and Kara have been friends for years; I have her number from when I helped Rick coordinate a surprise party for Bailey years ago. I’m sure Kara will be baffled when my name appears on her phone, but I don’t have any other option. This is Christopher Maddox. We organized a party for Bailey a long time ago. I’m bringing Bailey something from her dad. Do you know where she is?
I wait in agony, running through every possible way that this could be a massive failure. Kara could be asleep. Kara could not know where Bailey is. Kara could be creeped out by my texting and not respond.
Omg hi! My phone dings as Kara’s response appears on the screen. That’s so sweet! I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you. She informs me that Bailey is in class, even providing the classroom building and room number, and warns me that I’ll have to go through security first.
When I approach the security desk, the woman sitting there gives me an up-and-down look that I’m all too familiar with. I remove my Armani sunglasses and flash her my most charming smile.
“I’m dropping something off for a student,” I tell her. “I need a visitor’s pass. My name is Christopher Maddox.”
“Are you the student’s father?” the woman asks.
Not quite.
“A family friend,” I clarify.
“Can I page the student to verify your identity?”
I place my hands on the desk and lean forward. My eyes flicker to her name tag.
“Look, Sharon, it’s her birthday today, and I’m just helping her dad surprise her. You can look it up in the system.” I’m confident by the way she smiles at me that she won’t bother.
I’m right.
“That’s sweet of you, Mr. Maddox. Here’s a visitor pass.”
I thank her, grab a sloppily folded campus map, and head out. I’ll call the school about their lax security policies later. Right now, I just need to find Bailey.
I follow the map using Kara’s texted instructions and find myself standing before a squat brick building. To its right is a courtyard where several students mill about or lay on blankets. I wonder if Bailey is friends with any of them. I suppose I’ll find out very soon.
When I enter the building, I recognize an unfamiliar emotion: worry. I’m a confident man; I wouldn’t have advanced so far in my life and career if that weren’t the case. However, as I walk down the hall to Bailey’s classroom, I wipe my palms on my jeans, and then dash a bead of sweat from my brow. I have no idea how she’ll react to seeing me for the first time in three months--especially three months of not hearing from me after sending a heartfelt letter. Will her feelings still be the same?
Taking a deep breath, I stop outside the door of her classroom, gather my composure, and open the door.
Any conversation that was happening prior to my arrival ceases immediately. A professor is sitting at a desk in the front of the room; the students appear to be reading something in small groups. As soon as I open the door, though, every head turns to look at me. Forty pairs of eyes widen and narrow at the unfamiliar stranger in the doorway.
One pair of eyes, though, recognizes me immediately.
“Christopher?” Bailey stammers, looking for all the world like she may pass out. I resist the urge to run to her, and instead lock eyes with the professor.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” I say, as casually as I can. “Bailey, can I speak with you for a moment?”
“No,” Bailey says immediately. I swallow, hard. That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. “No,” she repeats, shaking her head, blinking furiously as if trying not to cry. “I’m busy. I’m working. I can’t talk to you right now.”
“It’s about your dad,” I lie. “Can you spare just a second?”
When I mention Rick, she blanches, and I immediately hate myself for causing her more distress. However, it works. She whispers something to a classmate and then rushes towards me, past me, and out of the room. I close the door quietly, not wanting to cause any further disturbances.
“What the fuck are you doing here? What’s wrong with my dad?” Bailey explodes the second the door closes. I’ve never seen her this visibly angry. I want to gather her into my arms and kiss her with all the passion I’ve had pent up for three months. As I reach out to her, though, she flinches, and I stop cold.
“Rick is fine,” I say, and watch the tiniest amount of tension leave her body. “I just needed to say something to get you to speak with me.”