Stacy was leaning in to her mirror, finishing up her makeup and making sure her hair was just right. She stood up straight and smoothed her dress down her front; a modest outfit, navy blue sheath dress with a square neckline (no cleavage), sleeveless, extending to her knees. She slipped into navy high heels that were surprisingly comfortable and slipped on a silver bracelet to match the silver pendant necklace that hung between her breasts. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jason, her husband, spying on her.
"Do you approve?"
"Very nice, and I think appropriate for the occasion." He moved behind her and gently kissed her neck, careful not to mess up her makeup. "I hope you won't be out too late."
"Who knows. It's a college party. Might get pretty wild." She smirked and spun in his arms. They gave a firm hug. Then they headed downstairs.
Brooke, Stacy's younger sister, was already waiting in the kitchen, entertaining her nieces. When Stacy entered the room, they silently sized each other up and both gave a nod of approval. Brooke was wearing a gray tweed sleeveless dress, full collar (so no cleavage from either lady tonight), but higher up on her thighs. She wore sexy black heeled Chelsea boots that she loved to wear out dancing, something that didn't happen frequently enough for her.
"What do you think?" Brooke asked Jason and the kids as she and Stacy posed side by side. The girls tried to be as complimentary as they could without breaching cool tween etiquette.
Jason was less subtle in his response, scanning both from head to toe, subconsciously pursing his lips and mouthing "Wow!" Then, out loud, "are you sure it's not too late for me to come too?"
The ladies chuckled and Brooke reiterated "Plus one, not two. Sorry." She punctuated that with a wink out of Stacy's view.
Stacy was accompanying Brooke to a work function that evening. Brooke was an Associate Professor of Chemistry at a nearby university, and there was a banquet for the retiring school President. Rob, Brooke's drip of a husband, refused to go with her, not wanting to have to make small talk with people he didn't know (and, Brooke suspected, who were so much smarter than him). So big sis Stacy stepped up and promised to help Brooke schmooze. And schmoozing was definitely in store, as Brooke was up for tenure. She had completed the last rounds of interview and review earlier that week, and tonight was her chance to show the others making the decision that she could fit in well with them.
The main person to impress was the Dean, Dr. Paul White. He was still a little bitter that he wasn't going to be replacing the retiring president, so Brooke wanted to do as much as she could that evening to kiss his ass and blow smoke up his ass and any other anal metaphor that applied. Stacy promised to help any way she could.
It was a nice spring evening, so no coats were needed. They decided to drive to the on-campus function separately, in case Stacy needed to make an early exit. They arrived fashionably late and found the hall about half full of professors and spouses, ranging in age from early 30s to 80s. Grad students were specifically barred from the event, to ensure that the open bar wasn't abused. Brooke and Stacy each picked up a glass of white wine while trays of hors d'oeuvres circulated. Brooke leaned in and gave Stacy the rundown.
Pointing subtly, Brooke noted "That's President Norris, no need to impress him, as he's out after today. I don't think he knows who I am anyway." He looked exactly as Stacy expected, a shorter, thin, balding, stooped man, arm in arm with a waifish gray woman of similar age.
"I see some others from the Chemistry department over there; we'll head there next and I'll introduce you. Most of them like me, but no harm in getting those numbers up." Turning, Brooke subtly pointed again. "That's Cathy Farmer, head of the early child education program. You know her, right?"
Stacy, a long-time kindergarten teacher and educational trainer nodded. "Yes, we've met at a few conferences. If you need some time alone I'll look for her and do some schmoozing of my own."
Giving the room one more scan, Brooke found her target. "There he is, Dean White. He's the one we really need to work on." Stacy followed Brooke's gaze and settled on what she'd describe as a poor man's George Clooney type. Graying, fit but age appropriate, well dressed in a nice suit, but not over the top, and all with a certain bemused weariness. He had an aura about him that she was sure worked well with a high percentage of the co-eds on campus. Next to him, facing away and chatting with someone else, was a red-haired woman in a red satin slip dress. If that was his date those co-eds didn't stand a chance.
The two women made their way to the grouping of Chemistry department professors and spouses. Brooke was the youngest by at least 20 years, but they all warmly welcomed her. Stacy was introduced to all and they chatted for a while, made small talk until it became awkward, then several broke off for fresh drinks. A few let Brooke know that they gave the tenure board positive reviews of her. One older gentleman who was there alone even leaned in and let Brooke know how great he thought it was to have young women working in scientific fields. He gently patted her behind as he walked away. Brooke and Stacy both stifled their laughs until he was out of earshot. After finishing their drinks, they grabbed two more glasses from a passing waiter. "Ok," Brooke said, taking a sip, "I see Dean White, let's head over."
"Showtime," Stacy declared, giving Brooke another pat on the behind.
They approached and Brooke called out "Dean White, good to see you."
He turned and spotted her, his face lighting up. "Ms. Gruber... Brooke, please tonight just Paul will suffice. Glad you could make it."
"This is my sister, Stacy." Stacy reached out and they shook hands. His hands were softer than she expected, likely the result of years in academia. "She's also in education, but she gets first crack at the kids."
Stacy chuckled and shrugged, "Kindergarten teacher."
Dean White's... Paul's smile faded. "Oh, I don't envy you. That's gotta be the hardest job, like herding cats while also teaching them to read."
"It has it's upside too. I never have to worry about class being interrupted by a war protest." That elicited a guffaw from the Dean followed by a subtle kick from Brooke. Ok, no more jokes from Stacy.
Paul turned and found the arm of his date, talking with another professor nearby, an older woman with thick glasses. "Excuse us, I want to introduce her to someone," he said by way of ending their conversation. Then, quietly to Brooke and Stacy, "the three of you might be the youngest women here tonight. This is my partner, Melanie. Melanie dear, Brooke is in our Chemistry department, I believe the youngest professor over there."
Melanie, the redhead in the red satin dress, elegantly shook Brooke's hand while admiring her dress. "So nice to meet you, and I love that dress. A nice twist on professorial tweed."
"Why, thank you," Brooke blushed, "You're the first to pick up on that."
