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had no choice but to offer his hand in
    marriage. But that was why she had to get him in bed again. Claiming that he impregnated her
    before they broke up wouldn’t fly. He wouldn’t fall for that. She needed fresh evidence, a
    fresh night of passion, and she would have him right where she wanted him.
    Of course she’d have some big time ‘plaining to do. Especially if the baby didn’t come
    out with any hint of being biracial. Peter was a black man, but he was a high-yellar black man,
    so the baby could conceivably take on his skin tone. But if not, Alex was so dark-
    complexioned that she felt she could easily explain it away that way, too.
    Besides, the timing would be perfect. According to Clive Stewart, a brilliant surgeon
    and very close, “intimate” friend of hers, she was impregnated only about three weeks ago.
    Which meant that it truthfully couldn’t be Matty’s baby, but it would be close enough in time
    the night of the ball that the truth could be manipulated. Matty, not Peter, would have been
    the last man she’d been with, which would make the chances of his fathering the child more
    plausible. It would be an early delivery, yes, but that could be explained away too. But the
    key was getting him in bed again.
    And if all of that didn’t work, if her sleeping with him and then declaring herself
    pregnant wasn’t enough to wrangle him, then she would have to result to her bigger, bolder
    back-up plan that was, in her estimation, too big, too bold, too incredible, to fail.
    She opened her eyes, tears suddenly appearing. She wanted Matty back. All of her life
    she went after what she wanted with a vengeance, and always got her way. Only she was
    always slick with her trick. Always lady-like and undercover. Just as she was about to be right
    now.
    “This is vital, Matty,” she said to him, laying the tears on as thick as she could manage.
    He could never handle her tears. Never. And she knew how to turn them on. “I wouldn’t ask
    you if I didn’t need you,” she added.
    Alex and tears were a foreign concept. In all his years of being with her, he could count
    on one hand the number of times he’d seen her cry. And usually they were tears of anger, not
    tears of pain. But when she did shed tears of pain, he couldn’t take it. Just like he couldn’t
    take it now. His heart melted. Most people would say Alex Graham was nothing but a spoiled
    bitch who deserved every bad turn she got. But Matty knew she hadn’t always been that way.
    Besides, this ball wasn’t for another three weeks. Maybe she’d meet somebody new
    by then, and tell him no thanks.
    “All right, I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and she beamed.
    “Oh, Matty,” she said heartfelt. “I knew I could always count on you! I just knew it!”

    ***
“Shanita Cooper, please come to desk five,” the speaker announced and Shay grabbed
    her book bag and hurried toward the now open cubicle. She was in the bustling financial aid
    office in Franklin’s student union, to see what in the world her options were.
    “I’m hoping you can help me,” Shay began as she sat in the small, metal chair. It had
    been nearly a week since she received word of losing her scholarship, and she was still trying
    to see her way clear.
    “What’s your social?” the counselor wanted to know. He was tall and thin and all
    business. When he punched in her social security number, he studied the screen in front of
    him.
    “I don’t know what I’ll do if y’all can’t help me. They took my scholarship away and
    now I may have to drop out if there’s no other funding available.”
    But his entire attention appeared to be focused on his computer screen. As she talked
    he began pecking his computer keys furiously, reading the screen, and then pressing Enter over
    and over.
    Shay was hopeful. “You found something?”
    “What do you mean?” he asked, although he never took his eyes off of the screen.
    “Have you found another scholarship for