He looked out his office window and saw big gray clouds building up. Snow clouds. We’ll have a white Christmas even down here, looks like.

To Glynis, he said, “I need to know how the professor felt about the meeting.”

“But you were there, weren’t you, Jake?”

There was something in her voice, something he couldn’t identify. Anticipation? Suspicion?

“Look, Glynis, the truth is I’d just like to have lunch with you. Yesterday’s meeting gives me an excuse to ask.”

For several long seconds she didn’t reply. Then, “You don’t need an excuse, Jake. I’d be happy to have lunch with you.”

*   *   *

He drove the Mustang to the front entrance of the electrical engineering building. Glynis was waiting at the glass double doors, bundled into a quilted parka. Before Jake could get out of the car, she pushed through the doors and hurried to him. He leaned across and opened the passenger side door for her.

“It’s cold!” Glynis said as she slid into the seat and reached for the safety belt.

“December in the foothills of the Rockies,” he said. “It gets cold in West Virginia, too, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, of course. But I’ve never liked it. If I had my choice I’d live in Hawaii or Guatemala or someplace where the temperature never gets anywhere near freezing.”

Jake gunned the engine and headed off campus. “I thought we’d eat in a real restaurant, instead of the cafeteria.”

“Fine by me,” Glynis said. Then, with a grin, she asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Danny’s Seafood Locker

DANNY’S SEAFOOD LOCKER

It wasn’t much of a restaurant. The décor was mostly old fishing nets and travel posters on the walls. But when Glynis had expressed her preference for warm climates, Jake thought that Danny’s was the best he could provide her.

Once inside the door, Glynis wormed out of her quilted coat, and Jake saw that she wearing denim jeans and a Christmas-bright red sweater. Practical clothing for the December cold but on her the outfit looked fresh and attractive. The dark-skinned young Hispanic hostess showed them to a booth in the rear of the restaurant. When a waiter pushed through the double doors of the kitchen, Jake could smell fish cooking and the distinctive odor of French fries sizzling in the deep fryer.

A sallow-faced, ponytailed waiter asked if they wanted anything to drink. Glynis ordered a glass of chardonnay and Jake asked for a dark beer. The waiter came back with a stemmed glass of wine and a green bottle of Dos Equis Especial: a pale lager.

“That’s the darkest we got,” the kid mumbled.

Jake sighed. “Okay.”

The waiter started to leave their booth, but hesitated. “You want a glass?”

Jake shook his head.

“Not dark enough?” Glynis asked.

“Not dark at all.”