The Beauty Queen's Makeover. Teresa Southwick

she admitted. Absently, she touched her fingertips to the groove on her cheek. “Boy, that sounds conceited and so stuck-up. And ironic.”

      “I never knew you to be vain,” the older man said kindly. “The young woman I knew was honest and self-aware and to the best of my knowledge never said an unkind word to anyone.”

      “Th—there was an accident—” Her voice caught and she stopped. “My face—isn’t the same.”

      “No. Neither is mine.” He glanced up. “For that matter, neither is Nate’s.”

      “Some of us are just late bloomers,” Nate said, an edge to his voice as a muscle in his cheek jumped.

      “The point is,” the professor said, meeting her gaze again, “appearance is not a person’s defining essence. It’s simply one part of the whole, which is constantly changing.”

      She smiled ruefully. “You’re just giving me philosophical spin.”

      He shrugged. “Philosophy is attitude, and that can make all the difference. For what that’s worth.”

      “It’s worth a lot. Unlike anything I might have to say to the board on your behalf.”

      “You’ve always underestimated yourself, my dear.”

      She shook her head. “You sent out a call for help to your former students who made something of themselves. But I have to ask—why me?”

      “How can you say that?” Nate protested.

      She glanced up at the man still standing beside her. “You said it yourself—this is the face that launched a thousand lipsticks. That’s not a cure for cancer or a plan for world peace. It’s superficial and unimportant.”

      “Not to the cosmetics industry,” Nate commented.

      “How very defense attorney of you,” she said wryly. “But the fact is I don’t know if I can help. I’m not sure that anything I say will carry any weight. I’m not noble. I’ve done nothing very important with my career, or my life. For that matter, I don’t even have a life. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

      The professor smiled. “Then I would say your return to Saunders University is fortuitous.”

      “How do you mean?” she asked.

      “At the risk of a clichéd metaphor, roots are the best place to dig for bits of yourself. Your roots are here at college. Unless I miss my guess, this is where you truly began to blossom.”

      Nodding absently, she thought about what he said. “Maybe. But I wish it wasn’t your misfortune that brought me back.”

      “Every cloud has a silver lining.” When the professor laughed, he sounded out of practice. “I seem to be in rare form today—clichés everywhere.”

      Kathryn stood. “Don’t worry, Professor. Nate and I will do everything we can to help you.”

      And helping the professor was the blind leading the blind, Nate thought. He pulled his BMW into a space in the hotel parking lot and turned off the ignition, then went around to the passenger side to open Katie’s door. It was a miracle she was still there—a miracle the professor hadn’t let the proverbial cat out of the bag. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his own troubles, he could easily have expanded on Nate’s talent for eliciting information. Or how much he’d changed since college. Fortunately, he’d done neither.

      “Here we are,” he said, after he’d opened her door and held out his hand.

      She looked at it for several moments before tentatively accepting. “Thank you.”

      “Although I’m not exactly sure where ‘here’ is,” he admitted. “And I don’t mean that literally.”

      “I knew that. The professor wasn’t much help,” she said, falling into step beside him.

      “If anything, he created more questions than he answered,” he said ruefully.

      “At least we know what the problem is and what we can do to help.”

      “Yes.”

      To give the college board of directors a testimonial on how the professor influenced him on a career path to benefit humanity. Nate supposed a defense attorney fell into that category, although some compared him to a shark. He had the reputation of being less concerned about the merits of a case than a defendant’s ability to pay for his billable hours. He also had a reputation for winning.

      His services were sought after and he was in a position to pick and choose his clients. He picked the ones who could afford him. Long ago he’d realized knowledge was power and knowledge of the law was the power to make a difference for the less fortunate. Like his grandmother. Lately he’d had a nagging feeling the woman who’d raised him after his parents died wouldn’t approve of the man he’d become. And now he wasn’t so sure the slick lawyer he’d become could convince anyone that what he did was a help to humanity. But he’d try. For the professor.

      “So what do we do now?” Katie asked.

      Their footsteps clicked on the lobby’s marble floor as they walked to the elevator. He pushed the up button. “We need to arrange to give our testimonials to the board. Earlier today I tried to see the administrator, Alex Broadstreet.”

      “And?” She looked up at him expectantly.

      He shook his head. “He blew me off. Technically his secretary did, but he’s calling the shots.”

      “Judging by the expression on your face, you’re not a happy camper.”

      “Let me count the ways,” he said grimly. “I was hoping this was all a misunderstanding and could be resolved with a simple conversation.”

      “Of course now we know that’s not going to happen.”

      “No. In fact when I bumped into you earlier—”

      “Literally.”

      He smiled. It was the best collision he’d had in a long time. The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. “Yes. I’d just come from trying to see Broadstreet.”

      “Is there a problem? Other than the obvious, I mean.”

      “I live two hours away. On the other side of Boston. I’d planned to resolve this and drive home tonight.”

      “Pride goeth before a fall,” she said.

      She didn’t know how right she was. He wasn’t used to failing. But a recent case and now this were giving him lessons in humility. Still, seeing her again made him wonder if this fall wasn’t a blessing in disguise.

      “Is that a nice way of saying I’m arrogant?” he teased.

      “If the shoe fits…” She shrugged. “Are you?”

      “Let’s just say I wouldn’t have to use the shoehorn on that one. Or I could plead the fifth—don’t want to incriminate myself.”

      “So you didn’t meet your objective today. Couldn’t you call for an appointment and come back?” she suggested.

      “I could. But my gut tells me that he’s going to dodge phone calls. I think being on site and in his face is the only way I’m going to get anywhere.”

      “You may be right. This whole thing is weird and seems awfully cloak-and-dagger.”

      “It does feel as if they’re trying to keep it quiet and railroad the professor without due process.”

      “I did promise we’d do everything we can to help him,” she said. “And you promised you’d try to get Sandra Westport to drop her investigation,” she reminded him. She shook her head. “But two hours is a long drive. You might want to stay over.”

      His thoughts exactly. He could