Free Sabotage by Matt Cook

suppose it couldn’t hurt.” He opened his laptop to check his inbox. “If you must know, I got the email at six fifty-five p.m. yesterday.”
    Austin flushed scarlet. At 6:55 p.m., he had been sitting across from Malcolm Clare. The professor hadn’t used his laptop to send any emails during their conversation.
    â€œThanks for your help,” he said.
    Austin slung his backpack over a shoulder and left the building. Unlocking his bike, he raced east along Serra Mall, the street running perpendicular to the picturesque Palm Drive. He dialed his roommate as he pedaled. Ichiro answered after a few rings.
    â€œHey. You sound out of breath.”
    â€œI’m biking,” Austin said. “Itchy, quick question. Did you know Malcolm Clare has a daughter?”
    Ichiro burst out laughing. “You may be obsessed with the hard to get, but, my friend, some are downright unattainable.”
    â€œSo you know her.”
    â€œSure. We’re in the same math program. She’s in my differential geometry class and kind of hard to miss. Apparently you think so, too.”
    â€œI’m not looking for a date. I’ve never met her.”
    â€œUh-huh,” Ichiro said with a purr. “Victoria Clare’s a knockout.”
    â€œI have a favor to ask.”
    â€œYou sound frazzled. What’s up, roomie?”
    â€œDo you know anything about her schedule?”
    â€œAh, so Casanova is looking for a date!” Ichiro needled. “Helpful hint: Stalking won’t get you any warm and fuzzies.”
    â€œBefore yesterday, I didn’t even know the girl existed,” Austin said. “Help me out.”
    Ichiro heaved a sigh. “Sorry to disappoint. We only have one class together, which she seems to be doing exceedingly well in. That’s all I know of her schedule. She probably has plenty of secret admirers you could ask for a play-by-play of her routine. I’m not your man. Although I did just see the ice queen in question at the Axe and Palm five minutes ago.”
    Austin pedaled faster, steering south around the history corner.
    â€œAustin, I don’t know what you’re after, but be careful with this one. She’s kind of a loner, has a reputation for being an antisocial bookworm. My feeling is she has a massive superiority complex, and from what I hear, no interest in playing the field. If it seems at all like you’re coming on to her…”
    A dial tone interrupted his admonition.
    â€œSuit yourself,” Ichiro said.

 
    SIX
    The Axe and Palm was the closest thing Stanford had to a burger joint. Austin surveyed the room. Most students were congregated around tall tables, chatting, nibbling, waiting for food. He ordered a dish of crepes and scanned the crowd for Clare’s daughter, spotting the most likely contender sipping a smoothie.
    She sat alone at the counter, and looked to be about twenty-three. Shiny aviators left her eyes to Austin’s imagination as he struggled to decide whether she more closely resembled a Bouguereau portrait or a creature from the untamed tropics. Panting from his bike ride, he studied the planes of her face. They were soft and still, gilded by past summers and tanned to a burnished glow. Her lips were restful, sphinxlike, perhaps even stubborn. A jacket of black Italian lambskin was zipped over the curve of her chest. Its color matched the obsidian of her hair, which was full and draped in layers over a straight shoulder line. White linen slacks concealed her legs, which Austin envisioned as long and firm and copper-colored.
    He admired her conservative, self-styled brand of chic. Days ago he hadn’t known this prodigy existed, let alone as the daughter of an aeronautics legend. Gathering his composure, he pulled out a chair beside her.
    â€œThis seat taken?”
    She took an unhurried sip, contemplating the question without comment. Nor did she glance at him, apparently preferring to receive