I felt my face turn red, in spite of the comfortably air-conditioned shop. I was consoled by the fact that Bruce wasn’t around to hear the innuendo, though he was unlikely to blush the way I had. He’d probably be flattered at being compared to one of his favorite actors. Or was Colin only on my favorites list?

The beader in the seat next to me, an older, graceful Indian woman, patted my hand and said, “She’s just trying to make you feel at home, dear.”

I smiled at her and my other classmates and gave Ariana a look that said we’d settle this score later.

Today’s workshop was not going well for me, in spite of my dipping often into one of the many small bowls of candy on the worktable. Ariana could never go too long without a sweet treat, and chocolate always had a prime spot wherever she held forth.

I let out an aggravated grunt, annoyed at how fumblefingered I was, trying to attach a short beaded string to a jump ring to make a key chain. When my cell phone vibrated on the table in front of me, I was glad for the break.

Until I saw the caller ID number. Courtney, the young administrative assistant in the academic dean’s office.

I was pretty sure I wasn’t being notified of a raise in salary or a reduced class schedule, which would allow me more time for research. I was nearly positive that Dean Underwood had another complaint to lodge against me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was ready to blame me for encouraging the sprites dancing in the water fountain.

I clicked my phone on and said “Hello” to Courtney, at the same time walking outside into the back alley, where a blast of heat assaulted my face.

“She wants to see you,” Courtney said, sounding apologetic.