Debbi Rawlins - In His Wildest Dreams

She blocked the destructive thoughts from her mind. Her energy was much better spent finding a new subject for the final phase of her thesis, not that she honestly had much hope. It had taken her best Bob Seger CD, a nerve-wracking dinner with the lascivious Martin Stanley, and a promise to clean Norman Cove’s apartment for two months to secure the last three male subjects.

She sighed. Now that Norman had backed out, at least she didn’t have to scrape together a few hours a week to do his cleaning. Time was becoming more of an issue. As it was she didn’t know how she could continue to volunteer at the animal shelter.

She loved working with the strays. It was a way of giving back for the kindness her elderly neighbor had shown her when she herself had been a kind of stray, roaming the neighborhood after school when she’d felt unwelcome in her own home.

There was a bright side. Not having to clean Norm’s apartment would allow her time to work an extra shift at the pub. Or more time for her thesis.

If she still had a shot.

She was so screwed.

The phone rang, and Emma leaped off the bed, foolishly hoping someone was answering her new ad from the library bulletin board.

“It’s Brenda,” her friend said before Emma finished getting out her hello. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Better than roadkill.”

“That good, huh?”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” She carried the phone back to the bed and flopped down. “I am so pissed at Norm I could strangle him.”

“Why did he bail?”

“He claims he’s flunking chemistry and he has to use the time to study more.” Emma snorted. “Flunking my butt. I got a glimpse of his new lab partner.”

“What a jerk! He’s a whiz at chemistry. Did he actually think you’d buy that excuse?”

“Hard to believe he beat a million other sperm to the finish, isn’t it?”

Brenda laughed.

Emma joined her, and then sighed. “Men. If they put one on the moon, they ought to be able to put them all there.”

“No argument from me.” Brenda hesitated. “This isn’t like you to be joking at a time like this. You’re not going over the edge on me, are you?”

“I think I’m in shock. I’m so close to finishing—this is like a bad dream, no, a nightmare. If I don’t find some humor, I’ll do something—I don’t know what, but it won’t be pretty.”

“Well, you can thank me with a hot fudge sundae because I’m about to save your butt.”

“What? You’re going to dress in drag and be my final male subject?”

“Are you ready for some good news or not?”

“I am so ready.”

Brenda paused dramatically. “I’ve got a guy for you.”

Emma frowned. This had better not be one of Brenda’s setups. Although it seemed she’d given up trying months ago. “Define that further.”

“My brother.”

“The womanizer?”

Brenda cleared her throat. “That’s not exactly how I’d categorize him. Women are drawn to him.”

“You said once he had a different ‘flavor’ for each week.” Emma stared at her pathetically short fingernails. At least she wasn’t biting them anymore. Maybe they’d look halfway decent in time for the reception.

“I know, but not because he necessarily encourages it.” Brenda sighed. “Nick’s one of those guys women do silly things for…even the ones you’d never expect to behave like that act like brainless morons around him.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And you want me to go out with him?”

Her friend laughed. “Oh, God, no. He’s volunteering to be your test subject.”

Heat singed Emma’s face. She knew she was bright red right now, a curse of her fair Irish skin. “I knew that.”

Brenda chuckled. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Em. He’s my brother and I love him…I even like him most of the time. But I would never try to fix you two up. Trust me.”

“I’d been thinking about the Dean’s reception and my mind was on a different track so I—” Emma’s muttering came to an abrupt halt as realization sunk in. “He’ll do it? For the whole two weeks?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“He owes me a favor.”

Emma got a funny feeling in her tummy. “Does he want to do it?”

“No.”

“Great.”

“Have any of your subjects wanted to do it? If I remember correctly, you did an awful lot of bribing and bartering.”

“True, but this is the end of the line. He can’t bail out on me because he has something else to do, or decides he doesn’t like being asked a gazillion questions.”

“He won’t bail. We have an understanding.”

Emma hesitated, not that she had much choice. As she’d said herself, it was the end of the line. Heaven help her if she didn’t finish her thesis. Not only was she flat broke, but the job they’d promised her at the clinic would be given to someone else who already has their master’s. “Does he have any time restraints?”

“I doubt it. He does some day trading on the Internet, some charity work, and he just got over his hobby of tinkering with old cars. He doesn’t have a regular job.”

Emma thought hard, trying to remember what Brenda had said about her brother. All she recalled was that he’d been a gifted student, who hated school but parlayed his genius into a small fortune. And that he was a real charmer with the ladies.

Good thing Emma was immune to that kind of stuff. Sex was overrated, in her opinion, media hype, advertiser’s bait. One encounter had been enough to satisfy her curiosity.

She switched the phone to her other hand, and then flipped through her calendar. “Does he know we’ll have to get started right away?”

“He knows.”

Her pulse started speeding with renewed hope. Brenda knew how important this was to her. She wouldn’t volunteer her brother unless she felt confident he’d see the study through. “I’d like to get started tomorrow.”

“He’ll be there.”

“I owe you a hot fudge sundae. Hell, I owe you twenty of them.”

“Forget it. My thighs can’t take it.” She sighed, and then paused. “Em, don’t let Nick get to you, okay?”

Emma laughed. “Afraid he might charm the pants off me?”

Brenda laughed, too. “You’re right. I don’t have to worry about you. Besides, you aren’t even his type.”

Emma winced. She knew her friend didn’t mean anything by that remark but it still smarted. Guys had never been attracted to her, not like they were to other girls. She’d been too busy studying to date, and the only boys who had asked were bookworms and nerds, too.

“Okay, this is for sure and I can go ahead and reserve the lab for tomorrow afternoon?”

“It’s for sure,” Brenda said. “What time?”

“I’m working the lunch shift tomorrow, and if you don’t mind skipping our coffee date, we can start at three.”

“No problem. I’ll tell him.”

“Let me know if that time is okay with him.”

“It will be.”

Emma frowned. Brenda sounded awfully smug. “You didn’t do anything illegal to get him to volunteer, did you?”

Brenda just laughed.

TARDINESS WAS ONE of Emma’s two major pet peeves. She muttered a couple of choice words as she fumbled with the key and finally unlocked the lab door. She bypassed her desk and hurried to the back room, more an oversized walk-in closet than anything else, and dropped her backpack on the small refrigerator they kept full of soda to ease the long hours of lab work.

Only she and two other graduate students used the place but there was so much personal junk stowed between the two metal filing cabinets anyone would think an army of students lived here. While she prized neatness, she overlooked the mess the others left. She understood how so many long hours working in the lab stole time and energy.