Worse yet, in Kristi’s section, she saw familiar faces. Dr. Croft, the head of the English Department, had just been seated along with Dr. Emmerson, her Shakespeare 201 instructor with the biker dude persona. Today, though, he’d shaved, his usual T-shirt given up in favor of a gray sweater, his hair still a carefully planned mess. The third member of the group was Dr. Hollister, Jay’s boss, head of the fledgling Criminal Justice Department.

A toxic trio, Kristi thought as she greeted them, handed out menus, and smiling, rattled off the specials that still remained. “…and if you’re interested in jambalaya, I hear it’s wonderful today.”

“Is it hot?” Dr. Emmerson asked, his eyebrows lifting, almost flirting. “Spicy?”

“No more than usual, but yes, I think it’s got a little kick to it.”

“Just the way I like it.”

“Down boy,” Natalie Croft said, her lips twitching a bit.

Yuck, Kristi thought. But at least it drove out all thoughts that she was way behind in his class, and she had several assignments that she hadn’t yet read.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Mmm. I’ll have sweet tea,” Dr. Croft said. She was a tall woman, with porcelain skin, dark hair, with just the beginnings of crows feet showing in the corner of her eyes. Her nose was patrician, her demeanor a little standoffish.

“Coffee for me,” Dr. Hollister said, slipping a pair of rimless reading glasses onto her nose as she studied the menu, tucking a wayward strand of black hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, me too, the coffee. Black.” Dr. Emmerson looked up at her and a spark of recognition touched his face. “You’re a student of mine, aren’t you?”

Kristi nodded. That was the trouble with this damned job, located as it was, so close to campus.

He snapped his fingers. “Shakespeare, right? Two-o-one?”

“That’s right.”

Kristi didn’t want to get into a discussion here in the middle of rush hour at the restaurant, but she didn’t have to worry as Dr. Hollister inadvertently came to the rescue. “Oh, I’d like cream with my coffee. No, make it skim milk, is that possible?” She gazed questioningly at Kristi over the tops of the half-glasses perched on her nose.

“Not a problem. I’ll be right back with it.”

“Miss!” a petulant man’s voice called from a table in the next section. “We’ve been waiting here for ten minutes and would like to order. Can you help us?”

Kristi nodded. “I’ll get your server.”

“Can’t you just take the order?” he asked, checking his watch. He was seated with a grumpy-looking heavy-set woman and two preteen kids who were already beginning to fiddle and slap at each other.

“Stop that!” the woman said sharply.

The older kid ignored her and stuck his tongue out at his sister. She shrieked as if he’d slapped her.