ONE WORLD APART

The Man I Would Never Choose 6:00 a.m. San Diego, California. The alarm went off for the third time. Allison Bennett decided that whoever invented the alarm clock deserved a very long, very public punishment. She flung an arm out from under the covers and slapped her phone until the screaming stopped. Silence. Sweet, beautiful silence. Five seconds later, reality came knocking. "Oh, come on." She kicked off the blanket, sat up, and glared at the wall like it had personally ruined her life. Another day. Another lecture. Another room full of students who looked at her like sociology was a punishment their parents had invented. Allison loved a lot of things. Sleeping was one. Reading was another. Teaching had somehow wormed its way onto the list of things she'd happily trade for a lifetime supply of books and a really good bed. Which was a shame, because at twenty-five she looked like she'd walked out of a shampoo commercial. Golden-blond hair, fair skin, cheekbones that made strangers look twice. She could have modeled. Instead, she taught sociology at a college in San Diego. Her mother loved to tell the relatives about it. My daughter is educated. Independent. Employed. What nobody mentioned was that her educated, independent, employed daughter spent half of every morning negotiating with herself to leave the bed. "Maybe I should quit," she muttered, shuffling toward the bathroom. "Open a bookstore. Marry a bookshelf. Anything but this." She stopped at the door. "Actually, a bookshelf wouldn't argue back. That's a solid option." Satisfied with her life choices, she went in. By seven, she'd showered, pulled on a cream blouse and black pants, and stuffed her teaching materials into her brown leather bag. She tied back her hair, gave her reflection a brief, unimpressed look, and grabbed her keys. She would much rather spend the day curled up with a good book than standing in front of thirty blank faces. But bills didn't pay themselves. She sighed like a tragic heroine and walked out the door. The coffee shop on the corner was already packed. Allison pushed through the glass door, waved at the familiar faces behind the counter, and joined the line. "Morning, Allison!" called the barista. "Morning, Sophie. Tell me you're having a better day than I am." Sophie laughed. "You say that every morning." "And every morning, I mean it." "The usual?" "Extra shot, please. I need enough caffeine to convince myself my students' essays are worth reading." Sophie shook her head, smiling, and got to work. Allison wasn't a morning person, but she was a people person. She knew the names of everyone who made her coffee. She chatted with her neighbors in the elevator. She never forgot to ask the older man across the hall how his tomatoes were doing. She could complain about her life for a solid hour and still hold the door for a stranger. It was one of her contradictions. Coffee in hand, she stepped back outside. The sun was just starting to warm the street. Cars crawled by, people hurried past, and somewhere nearby a dog barked furiously at a cyclist. She took a sip and sighed. "Beautiful morning," she admitted. Then she remembered she had a lecture at eight. "Terrible morning." She got in her car and drove off to face her doom. Her first class was Introduction to Social Institutions. Allison stood in front of thirty students with a marker in one hand and her notes in the other. "Who can tell me how family, education, and religion shape the way people behave in society?" Silence. She looked around the room. A boy in the second row glanced at his phone, then quickly back up when he caught her eye. Someone by the window stifled a yawn. Two girls in the back whispered, then suddenly became very interested in their notebooks. Allison took a slow breath. "Anyone?" A hand went up, a little uncertain. Finally. "Yes, Jimmy?" "Ma'am, is this going to be in the exam?" Allison stared at him. For one glorious second, she considered walking out the door and moving to an island where nobody had ever heard the word sociology. Instead, she smiled. "Great question, Jimmy. And yes. Understanding how society shapes behavior is pretty important in a sociology exam." A few students laughed, and several quietly picked up their pens. "Now, if we can get back to the subject, maybe we'll all leave here a little more enlightened." The lecture went on. Some people jumped in. Others waited for the clock to rescue them. By the time Allison dragged herself back to her office, she felt like she'd aged ten years. She dropped into her chair and stared at the ceiling. "I'm going to start charging these people for every minute they waste of my life." "Good morning to you too, Professor Misery." Allison turned. Maya Collins stood in the doorway with a folder pressed to her chest and a smug smile. She was Allison's best friend, a fellow professor, and one of the few people who could interrupt a complaint without getting thrown out. "Don't call me that," Allison said. "I'm having a hard morning." "You have a hard morning every morning." "And yet you keep visiting. Maybe you're the problem." Maya dropped into the chair across from her. "Speaking of problems, I have good news." "If it's that our students suddenly love sociology, I'm not emotionally prepared for that kind of disappointment." Maya rolled her eyes. "The book is out." Allison froze. "What?" "The last book in the series. It came out today. The store confirmed this morning. We can pick it up after work." Allison shot to her feet so fast her chair rolled back and hit the wall. "Today?" "No, next Christmas. Yes, today!" "Oh my God!" She grabbed Maya's hands and shook them. "We're finally going to find out how this series ends!" "Shh! Do you want the whole department to know that a fictional book is the only thing keeping you employed?" "I don't care! This is the best day of my life." Maya cracked up. "Your mom would be so upset to hear that." "My mom can get in line." For the rest of the afternoon, Allison checked the clock every few minutes. She tried to grade papers. She tried to answer emails. She tried to plan next week's lectures. Every thought drifted back to a paperback she hadn't even touched yet. By four, she was packed up before Maya had even closed her files. "Ready?" Allison called from the doorway. Maya looked up and shook her head. "You're acting like a kid." "A very happy kid. Let's go!" The bookstore was packed. Fans of the series had swarmed the display by the entrance, and copies were disappearing off the shelves. Allison squeezed through the crowd, scanning frantically. "There!" One copy left. She reached for it at the exact same moment as someone else. Their hands collided. "Sorry," Allison said automatically. The stranger let go with a laugh. "Go ahead. You look like you need it more than I do." "You have no idea." She hugged the book to her chest like someone might try to wrestle it away. Maya appeared beside her, already holding her own copy. "You're ridiculous." "And you're jealous." "Of what?" "My happiness." "Your happiness is a paperback." "And it's a beautiful paperback, thank you." They paid, left the store, and spent the whole drive guessing where the story might go. Allison refused to guess about the ending. She wanted to find out every twist on her own. By the time they got to her apartment, she'd changed into sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, set out a bowl of snacks, and claimed her spot on the couch. Maya sat down beside her. "Before you start. If you finish first, don't you dare spoil anything." "I would never." "You spoiled the last one." "That was an accident!" "You sent me a voice memo. Screaming. About the plot twist." Allison waved a hand. "Details." Maya narrowed her eyes but let it go. Allison opened the book. The first pages pulled her in right away. The descriptions were vivid, the dialogue was sharp, and the world felt so real she could almost imagine walking its streets. She smiled and sank deeper into the cushions. This was going to be perfect. Then the male lead showed up. Allison's expression changed. "Oh, absolutely not." Maya looked up. "What now?" "This guy. Mr. Blackwood. He's insufferable!" "You've barely read anything about him." "And I've already had enough. Everything has to be done his way. Everyone has to meet his standards. Does the man ever relax?" "Maybe he doesn't know how." "Then he should learn. Preferably before he makes everyone around him miserable." Maya went back to her book. Allison kept reading, looking more disbelieving by the page. A few pages later, she gasped. "Oh, you have to hear this." "What did he do now?" "His secretary spends the entire evening getting his documents ready and reorganizing his schedule. She comes in the next morning, and the first thing he says is that the papers are in the wrong order." Maya glanced over. "Maybe he likes things a certain way." "Then he should say so! She spent hours on it, and now she has to start over because it doesn't suit him." "What did he tell her?" Allison looked down. "To redo everything and have the new version ready before his meeting." Maya nodded. "Straight to the point." "Straight to the point?" Allison repeated. "Maya, the poor woman has other things to do than rearrange papers for his every mood!" She shifted on the couch, offended on behalf of a fictional secretary. "I could never work for someone like that." "Really?" "Absolutely. I'd rather do nothing for a living than spend every day trying to please Mr. Blackwood." Maya lowered her book. "Nothing at all?" "Nothing." "Not even if he paid you well?" "No." "What if he paid you enough to buy your own house?" Allison barely looked up. "Still no." "A mansion?" She paused. Maya raised an eyebrow. "I'm allowed to appreciate good real estate," Allison said stiffly. "That doesn't mean I want the owner." Maya smiled. "And if he were the last man on earth? Would you marry him then?" Allison stared at her like she'd said something criminal. "Absolutely not." "Not even if he were hot?" "Why does his face keep coming up? We're talking about his personality!" "I'm just asking." "And I'm answering. I wouldn't marry him. I wouldn't work for him. And I would definitely not spend my life dealing with his demands." "So that's a firm no?" "It's the firmest no you've ever heard." "Noted." Allison narrowed her eyes. "Why do you sound like you're planning something?" "I'm not planning anything." "You've got that look." "What look?" "That innocent look you get right before you annoy me." Maya pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. Allison shook her head. "I'm serious. There are plenty of men out there. I don't need one who makes everyone walk on eggshells." "Fair enough," Maya said, and opened her book again. They read in silence for a while. Then Maya glanced sideways. "You know, for someone who claims to dislike him so much, you have a lot to say about Mr. Blackwood." Allison didn't look up. "Because he keeps giving me reasons." Maya went back to her book, and Allison to hers. No amount of money, looks, or fancy real estate could change her mind about a man like Mr. Blackwood. She was completely sure of it. She had standards. And Mr. Blackwood, fictional or not, was nowhere near them. It was almost nine when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Mom. Her smile faded. Her mother rarely called this late unless something was wrong. "Hi, Mom?" "Allison, sweetheart." Her mother's voice sounded tight. "Are you at home?" "Yes. What's wrong?" A brief pause. "I need you to come home as soon as you can. There's been an emergency." Allison sat straight up. "What kind of emergency? Are you okay?" "I'm fine, honey. I'll explain when you get here. Please, just come." "Okay. I'm leaving now." She hung up and was on her feet before the screen went dark. Maya put her book down. "What happened?" "Mom says there's an emergency. I have to go." "Want me to come with you?" "No, it's fine. I'll call you when I get there." Maya studied her face, then nodded. "Drive safe, okay?" "I will." Allison grabbed her phone, keys, and purse and rushed to the door, her mind already racing through every terrible possibility. She didn't notice she'd left the book open on the couch. She didn't notice the rain starting outside. And she definitely didn't notice the loose edge of the rug at the top of the stairs. Her foot caught. For one awful second, she tried to save herself, arms flailing, heart in her throat. Then she fell. Her purse slid off her shoulder. Her phone flew out of her hand. The world tilted, and a blinding impact swallowed everything. The last thing she heard was Maya's voice, far away, screaming her name. Then there was nothing. End of Chapter One.