Chapter One

Bonnie

The morning sunlight crept through the blinds, casting a golden glow over the room as I stirred awake. A flutter of excitement danced through me, mingling with the lingering remnants of dreams where Jonathan and I exchanged vows beneath an archway of roses. Today wasn't just another step toward that idyllic future—it was a leap. With a contented sigh, I rolled over, lightly planting a kiss on Jonathan's cheek as he continued to sleep, and slipped out of bed, my bare feet landing on the cool hardwood floor.

I glanced at the clock. It was early, but I had no intention of wasting a single moment. Today marked not only the beginning of my work study arrangement but also the first tangible step towards my MBA—a goal I held close to my heart, despite Jonathan's dismissive attitude towards it. He saw my aspirations as a whim, a fleeting fancy, but to me, it was the foundation of our future together. I wanted to contribute, to earn, to be more than just a doting wife waiting at home, even if we wouldn't need more than Jonathan's income as a computer programmer to keep us afloat after we were married.

A quick shower did little to dampen my enthusiasm as I dressed meticulously for the day. I chose a smart cream blouse paired with a navy pencil skirt, a professional yet feminine look. My dark brown hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders after some coaxing with the curling iron, and I kept my makeup understated—just a coat of mascara and a little lip gloss to finish. Better to keep it simple for a first impression. I was halfway to the kitchen before realizing that I'd forgotten to put on my engagement ring. Jonathan had surprised me by proposing right before Christmas, so it hadn't been that long. After retrieving it from its little velvet box where I put it each night before sleeping, I slipped it on my finger and retraced my steps through the house.

Breakfast was a blur of whole-grain toast and fresh strawberries, each bite punctuated by checklists running through my mind.

Notebook? Check.

Sack lunch? Check.

Confidence? That one was iffy.

The drive to the university was a mixture of nerves and anticipation. I had heard stories about Dr. Ford Kingston, my soon-to-be boss. His passion for astrophysics was legendary, as was his temper. I rehearsed polite greetings in my head, determined to start on the right foot.

Pulling into the parking lot of the prestigious Illinois institution, I took a deep breath. The grandeur of the old stone buildings, ivy creeping up their sides, filled me with awe. This was it. This was where I would prove my worth, forge my path.

Stepping into the administrative office, the hum of activity enveloped me. Students hustled by, faculty engaged in animated discussions, and the clack of keyboards underscored it all. My heart pounded a fierce rhythm as I approached the receptionist, who directed me towards Dr. Kingston's office with a knowing smile.

"Good luck," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Thanks," I replied, though I wasn't sure if I needed luck or a miracle.

The door to Dr. Kingston's office stood slightly ajar. I hesitated, smoothing down my skirt, steeling myself for the encounter. One last deep breath, and then, plastering a smile on my face, I knocked lightly before pushing the door open.

"Dr. Kingston?" My voice was steady, betraying none of my inner turmoil.

As I stepped forward, I caught sight of him, his close-cropped silver hair gleaming, blue eyes fixed intensely on a stack of papers. For a moment, I was caught off-guard by his looks—despite the distinguished air, there was an impish quality about him that reminded me of a little boy much too smart and cute for his own good. But there was no time to dwell on how attractive he was; I was here for a purpose.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Kelly," said my new boss without looking up, his voice tinged with impatience. "Come in."

"Yes, thank you. And please call me Bonnie," I said as I stepped into the lion's den, trying to look as unassuming and professional as I could manage. My fingers gripped the strap of my shoulder bag tightly, a silent anchor in an ocean of nerves as I waited for direction.

Still without looking up from his papers, Dr. Kingston reached into one of his desk drawers and drew out a leather-bound checkbook, passing it across the table to me.

"Very well, Bonnie. I'm Ford." He tapped the blue ledger with his forefinger and sighed. "Your first assignment is to balance my checkbook. I have a doctorate in theoretical physics, and I still can't get the damn thing to come out even."

And just like that, the next chapter of my life began…

***

"Mr. Doyle!" I heard Dr. Kingston's voice thunder from across the room before entering his office the following morning and catching a glimpse of the man.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" The voice of a young man in his late teens or early twenties trembled. I guessed he was one of Dr. Kingston's students if the overstuffed backpack slung over his shoulders, probably weighing more than he did, was any indication. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot and biting his lower lip nervously.

"Yes, indeed," Ford said definitively.

I cleared my throat, hoping to announce my presence without startling either of them. It was that or else wait outside in the hall for who knows how long until they finished their conversation, and that would mean risking my boss thinking I'd been late on my second day of work.

Ford whirled around at the sound, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, the intensity of his gaze seemed to penetrate right through me. There was a flicker of something in his expression, but I couldn't tell if it meant that he was pleased by my sudden appearance or just the opposite.

"Ah, Bonnie. There you are. Good morning." His words were clipped, businesslike, revealing nothing. "You're just in time to hear what I have to say to this young fellow, Stuart Doyle, who is one of my students in Electromagnetism II. Mr. Doyle, this is Bonnie Kelly, my new administrative assistant."

"Nice to meet you," I said, giving what I hoped was an encouraging smile to Stuart before setting my things on the workstation I'd been assigned in the corner of the room.

Stuart wiped the back of his hand over the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Is this about my term paper?" he asked Ford. "I tried my best…Honest."

The professor nodded sternly before surprisingly breaking into a wide smile. "It's one of the best explanations of electromagnetic theory I've ever read, and I don't say that lightly, Mr. Doyle. I know you're currently majoring in English, but you also show significant talent in the sciences. If there is anything I can do to encourage you to consider the possibility of a double major, please let me know. I'd be happy to be your mentoring advisor."

"Really?" Stuart's mouth gaped open, and I felt certain the astonished look on his face was mirrored on my own. I'd been bracing myself for some sort of admonishment, lecture, or other cringeworthy criticism, but Ford's high praise of his student's work went against all my preconceived ideas. From the looks of it, Stuart was equally shocked.

"Wow," he breathed, raking his fingers through his hair. "To be honest, I've always loved physics. But my parents want me to become a lawyer."

"Hm," said Ford, scratching his chin. "Would it help if you and I sat down with them together? Perhaps I can assure them of your promise in this field, as well as the range of career options for a person gifted in math and science."

"That would be amazing," Stuart replied, blinking. "Gosh, thank you Dr. Kingston! You just made my day."

Ford chuckled. "I'm glad. But let's keep it our little secret. I have a reputation to uphold you know."

Stuart laughed and gave me a small wave as he exited the office. I could almost see the clouds under his feet.

"Now, Bonnie," said Ford, once we were alone, "Did you have any questions about the assignment I gave you yesterday? I know it's complicated, and my handwriting is surely partly to blame. I realize we're in the digital age and I can check my online bank account for their record of transactions. However, to be frank, we educators don't make all that much, and I can't afford to lose a dime due to some technical glitch."

"I completely understand," I replied, rummaging in my purse. "Actually, I balanced the numbers last night. You were only off by a few dollars, and I found the line item that caused the problem as well. A ‘7' looked like a ‘1.' Here is the record." Drawing out the checkbook, I handed it to him, maintaining a composed facade despite the fluttering in my stomach.

Ford's mouth dropped open in surprise, and he stared at me for a long moment without speaking. My cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.

Finally, he blinked, tucking the checkbook into the pocket of his jacket and straightening his sleeves.

"Well now! That solves that conundrum," he said.

As he turned away, I couldn't help but observe the subtle shift in his posture, a slight relaxing of the shoulders, perhaps an unconscious response to the tension dissipating between us. Or maybe I was the problem, since I wasn't accustomed to the formalities of academia and my feeling intimidated must be obvious.

Ford strode to a tall bookshelf on which had been piled everything from books to loose papers to a stuffed green alien wearing spectacles and a tie. I wondered that the sagging piece of furniture hadn't yet toppled over completely and made a mental note to add organizing it to my list of to-do's.

"Let's start by reviewing the upcoming conference schedule," he said, flinging books from one of the shelves as though they were candy. "I know I put it here somewhere. I'll need everything organized and ready for my review by the end of the day," he instructed, his brows furrowing.

Reaching past him, I plucked a crisp manila folder from the edge of a shelf.

"Ah yes, that's it," said Ford with an appreciative smile. "Now you can get started on that while I get back to figuring out the correct diameter of Alpha Bo?tis in the Bo?tes constellation."

"Sounds like alphabet soup to me," I laughed.

He frowned.

I coughed and nodded, his intimidation returning full force. Taking the folder to my desk, I flipped open the lid of my laptop as my mind raced. This was going to be more challenging than I had anticipated—not just the job but keeping my composure around Dr. Ford Kingston.

***

I shuffled papers into neat stacks, my fingers flying as I organized the bookshelf with a practiced hand. The quiet hum of the computer filled the space between us, punctuated by the occasional scratch of Ford's pen against paper. My gaze drifted to the clock; it had only been a few hours since I'd started, but I felt like I'd been part of this office for much longer.

"Bonnie," Ford's voice cut through the silence, "did you remember to include the revisions for next week's lecture in the conference lineup?"

"They're highlighted in yellow," I answered without missing a beat, pointing toward the calendar where neatly penned notes awaited his review.

"Efficient," he muttered, almost to himself, and I caught a glimmer of approval in his piercing blue eyes before he buried himself in his work again.

As the week wore on, my initial nervousness around the professor began to wane, replaced by something akin to...admiration? No…Fascination was the word.

I watched him from across the room as he leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, hands threading through his prematurely silver hair. He seemed to be pondering the cosmos itself, lost in thought.

"Ford?" I ventured tentatively, curious about the man behind the intensity.

His eyes snapped open, locking onto mine. "Yes, Bonnie?"

"Your research," I began, gesturing toward the stacks of documents adorned with astronomical jargon. "What is it exactly that's got you so absorbed?"

A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his stern facade softening. "The possibility of discovering something new about our universe. It's...exhilarating. I'm working on proving a hypothesis and if I can just figure out the correct equations, I might be able to receive enough funding to establish a much-needed research center."

"Is that what keeps you up at night? The thrill of solving the unknown?" I asked, leaning forward, captivated by the passion that sparked in his gaze.

"Among other things," he replied cryptically, his eyes holding mine a fraction too long.

I quickly looked down. It was unprofessional to let these moments linger, to indulge in the heat I felt that seemed to simmer between us whenever Ford shared a piece of himself. But oh, how intoxicating it was to catch glimpses of the man behind the reputation, of the vibrant curiosity that fueled him. It was clear to me now; beneath that steely surface lurked a man driven not just by ambition, but by a profound respect for the secrets of the stars.

"Bonnie," he said, breaking the spell, "could you draft an email to the department heads about the change in the seminar schedule?"

"Of course, Professor." I turned away, hiding my smile as I set to work, my thoughts still orbiting around the enigmatic man in front of me who studied the heavens with such passion. What else was he passionate about? Part of me couldn't help but want to find out.

***

The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the buttery aroma of croissants as I slipped into the café where Melanie and I had agreed to meet. The warm buzz of morning chatter wrapped around me like a cozy blanket, but my mind was miles away, swirling around the events of the past weeks at the university.

"Bonnie!" Melanie's voice cut through the hum of conversations. She waved from our usual corner booth, her curly red locks bouncing with each enthusiastic gesture.

"Hey Mel," I said, sliding into the seat opposite her and taking off my coat. I wrapped my hands around the steaming cup in front of me.

"Thanks for ordering my coffee," I said gratefully, reaching for the cream and sugar. The hot drink was just what I needed to stave off the chill of the late January morning. Her green eyes were alight with curiosity, practically demanding the latest gossip.

"Okay, spill it. How's the new gig? And more importantly, how's working with the infamous Dr. Ford Kingston?" Melanie leaned in, her expression eager.

I took a sip of my coffee, buying a moment to gather my thoughts. "Honestly, it's not what I expected. Everyone warned me about his temper, but he's just...stressed, you know? And when he talks about his research, there's this softness that comes over him."

Melanie's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh really? And I'll bet you don't find him at all good-looking, do you? I took his Introduction to Astronomy course to satisfy an elective towards my degree in interior design, and I remember all the girls were more interested in pointing their telescopes towards him than Mars. Except he never gave any of them the time of day. You must be special to have gotten him to open up at all."

My cheeks flushed with warmth, an involuntary response that betrayed more than I cared to admit. "Mel, come on. It's strictly business between us." I couldn't help the small smile that crept across my lips, though. "But yes, he's handsome. I'll bet he works off stress by putting in hours at the gym, judging from his muscles. And those eyes? They're so striking they could make any woman swoon. But I'm engaged to Jonathan, so it doesn't matter if I find Ford good-looking or not."

"Right, right, Jonathan, your fiancé, who finally proposed after dating you for six years," Melanie drawled, her tone playfully skeptical. "Well, just be careful, Bon. Hearts have a funny way of getting tangled up when you least expect it."

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head at her dramatics. "There's no tangling happening. I've got a wedding to plan and an MBA to earn. No room for distractions."

"Of course not," she said, grinning as she reached for a croissant. "No distractions whatsoever."

I mirrored her grin, grateful for her light-hearted teasing. It was a reminder to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground and my focus where it needed to be—my future career and married life with Jonathan Hildebrand, my high school sweetheart. Our parents were best friends, and our families were over the moon about our upcoming nuptials in June. Granted, it would help if I could only find a wedding dress I liked. I'd probably tried on at least thirty or forty, but none of them seemed quite right.

"Stop it." I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress the grin tugging at my lips. "Dr. Kingston is just...intriguing, that's all. It's not like I'm planning to run off into the sunset with the guy. I'm wedding-dress shopping, for heaven's sake."

"How's that going by the way?" Melanie asked, popping a golden piece of flaky croissant into her mouth.

"It's not," I admitted with a sigh. "It would probably help if I knew what I was looking for, but I really don't know. My mother is definitely getting frustrated. She's going to take me to Chicago to visit some bridal salons there if I don't find something locally in the next few weeks."

"Well, maybe you could ask Professor Grumpy's opinion." Melanie raised an eyebrow.

I nearly spit out my latte.

"Very funny," I said. "Really though, Mel, there's nothing to worry about. Jonathan is my future."

"Jonathan," she repeated softly, her playfulness giving way to a touch of seriousness as she passed me a menu. "Just make sure he's not your future only because he's been your past, okay?"

I paused, the weight of her words pressing down on me. She had a point, one that I wasn't ready to explore, not with the wedding invitations already in the mail. "Let's not get all Dr. Phil here," I said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back into safer waters.

"Fair enough," Melanie conceded with a shrug, but her eyes still held that twinkle of mischief. "Just promise me you'll keep an open heart, okay? You've never been one to take risks, but just make sure you're really following your dreams and not someone else's."

"Promise," I repeated softly, more to appease her than anything else. I knew who I was and who I wanted to be. Didn't I?

"Good," she said with satisfaction, her smile genuine and warm. "Now, let's talk about something less scandalous—like your bachelorette party. I'm thinking Vegas, baby!"

"Vegas?" I laughed, grateful for the change of topic. "You're incorrigible."

"Guilty as charged," she beamed, raising her mug of coffee in a toast. "To friendship, love, and the occasional harmless flirtation with danger."

Shaking my head, I clinked my cup against hers.

"Harmless," I repeated firmly.